Home For the Holidays

That’s right; I did it; I killed his damn dogs. The small inconvenience and cost to him to replace them is a petty victory, but a victory nonetheless. The bigger pay off was the look on his face when he found himself at the end of my barrel.

As thunder crashed overhead and the rain fell harder I was already soaked, my hair clinging to the sides of my face. My denim jacket was water logged and weighed a ton so I pulled it off and dropped it onto the flooded walkway. Looking up at the corner of the brick wall I saw the thick black cord of the security camera between the lightening flashes.

With a running jump I caught the top of the wall and hoisted myself up. I took a breather at the top of wall thinking about Humpty Dumpty before swinging over to the other side. Carefully scooting my way to the corner I reached down, grabbed a hold of the black cable coil and ripped the sucker from wall. To add insult to injury I kicked the camera housing from its perch and hurled it to the ground below.

Satisfied with this bit of vandalism I flung myself from the wall onto the sculpted, saturated grass. In the distance the slender white columns of the front entrance glowed eerily. There were interior lights that could be seen; I imagined it to be the unlucky soul watching in the security center, his panic growing with every camera that went blank wondering if he can handle the situation himself or wake up Warlike. I knew the drill, the dogs would be let out first. I pulled the .45 from my shoulder holster, double checked for the .38 under my belt. Assured that I had what I needed I trudged toward the house. His room was on the second floor facing the plum trees.