Read Online Jacob's Odyssey (The Berne Project Book 1) by Russ Melrose - Free Book Online
Authors: Russ Melrose
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minutes to cross the street and travel the half block to get to the locksmith shop.
I set the alarm clock for six minutes to give myself a little cushion and checked my watch. It was ten to eleven. I slipped my arms through the backpack straps and headed to the front edge of the building. In the middle of the street, a late model Ford pickup truck with its driver side door open straddled the median. If I needed cover when I crossed the street, the truck would serve as adequate cover. I took one last look in each direction and then sprinted across the two southbound lanes for the truck. I crouched down by the front grill and looked around. The rain had become an almost imperceptible mist, and I still didn't see any movement anywhere. I could see the locksmith shop down the street and it looked to be as deserted as the rest of the businesses along 9th East. It was an eerie scene with all the abandoned vehicles and empty businesses, and the incandescent lighting from the street lamps cast dark shadows seemingly everywhere. 9th East was a surreal wasteland, murky and foreboding. I took a deep breath and ran across the northbound lanes to a 7-Eleven store and made my way around to the back area behind the store.
As I made my way through the back parking lot areas of the businesses, I kept as close to the buildings as I could. I kept checking my watch to make sure I'd get there in plenty of time. I rarely wore a watch, but on this night, knowing the time was critical to my plan. But even with the illuminated dials, it was tough to clearly make out the time in the inky shadows of the buildings. I needed to be at the locksmith shop before the alarm clock went off for my plan to work effectively. I'd set the alarm to the buzzer setting, an obnoxious sound that grew louder and more shrill as the minutes passed. I knew that breaking into the locksmith shop would make enough noise to attract the infected from nearby areas, so I needed a distraction, and the alarm clock would serve as a perfect diversion to allow me to break into the shop and find a lock pick set for my journey. But the timing needed to be just right. As soon as the alarm went off, I planned to break down the back door or smash through a window pane whichever proved to be the best option. Whatever noise I made would be short-lived, and I was gambling that as the infected arrived, the annoying alarm would draw their attention away from me.
I climbed over a short cement wall and I was there. I checked my watch and still had nearly two minutes left. The parking lot area was fairly small with just four parking stalls. There was also a large garbage bin nestled against the back fence. The fence was a chain link affair that led to a neighboring backyard. That would be my avenue of escape. The back door of the building had a window pane with the name of Barry's Locksmith Shop stenciled on it in white lettering. I headed for the back door and drew my bat from the backpack. I had decided smashing the window would be the easiest way to break into the shop.
The rain had started back up again. A steady downpour that wasn't as heavy as before, but certainly enough to help mask any sounds I might make. I still had a minute and a half to go. It was quite dark inside the shop, so I leaned my head against the glass pane to peer inside. But the door gave way and I nearly lost my balance. I grabbed the sides of the door jamb to keep myself from falling forward. And while I was able to grab the left jamb with my left hand, I clumsily clubbed my right hand into the edge of the other jamb and nearly dropped the bat. My hand stung from the pain.
I rubbed my knuckles as a jumble of anxious thoughts peppered my mind. The alarm would go off in a minute, only I didn't need the diversion anymore. My clever little plan had backfired. And there was no way I had enough time to run back and turn the alarm off. In a minute or two, 9th East would be crawling with the infected. And as bad as that was,
I set the alarm clock for six minutes to give myself a little cushion and checked my watch. It was ten to eleven. I slipped my arms through the backpack straps and headed to the front edge of the building. In the middle of the street, a late model Ford pickup truck with its driver side door open straddled the median. If I needed cover when I crossed the street, the truck would serve as adequate cover. I took one last look in each direction and then sprinted across the two southbound lanes for the truck. I crouched down by the front grill and looked around. The rain had become an almost imperceptible mist, and I still didn't see any movement anywhere. I could see the locksmith shop down the street and it looked to be as deserted as the rest of the businesses along 9th East. It was an eerie scene with all the abandoned vehicles and empty businesses, and the incandescent lighting from the street lamps cast dark shadows seemingly everywhere. 9th East was a surreal wasteland, murky and foreboding. I took a deep breath and ran across the northbound lanes to a 7-Eleven store and made my way around to the back area behind the store.
As I made my way through the back parking lot areas of the businesses, I kept as close to the buildings as I could. I kept checking my watch to make sure I'd get there in plenty of time. I rarely wore a watch, but on this night, knowing the time was critical to my plan. But even with the illuminated dials, it was tough to clearly make out the time in the inky shadows of the buildings. I needed to be at the locksmith shop before the alarm clock went off for my plan to work effectively. I'd set the alarm to the buzzer setting, an obnoxious sound that grew louder and more shrill as the minutes passed. I knew that breaking into the locksmith shop would make enough noise to attract the infected from nearby areas, so I needed a distraction, and the alarm clock would serve as a perfect diversion to allow me to break into the shop and find a lock pick set for my journey. But the timing needed to be just right. As soon as the alarm went off, I planned to break down the back door or smash through a window pane whichever proved to be the best option. Whatever noise I made would be short-lived, and I was gambling that as the infected arrived, the annoying alarm would draw their attention away from me.
I climbed over a short cement wall and I was there. I checked my watch and still had nearly two minutes left. The parking lot area was fairly small with just four parking stalls. There was also a large garbage bin nestled against the back fence. The fence was a chain link affair that led to a neighboring backyard. That would be my avenue of escape. The back door of the building had a window pane with the name of Barry's Locksmith Shop stenciled on it in white lettering. I headed for the back door and drew my bat from the backpack. I had decided smashing the window would be the easiest way to break into the shop.
The rain had started back up again. A steady downpour that wasn't as heavy as before, but certainly enough to help mask any sounds I might make. I still had a minute and a half to go. It was quite dark inside the shop, so I leaned my head against the glass pane to peer inside. But the door gave way and I nearly lost my balance. I grabbed the sides of the door jamb to keep myself from falling forward. And while I was able to grab the left jamb with my left hand, I clumsily clubbed my right hand into the edge of the other jamb and nearly dropped the bat. My hand stung from the pain.
I rubbed my knuckles as a jumble of anxious thoughts peppered my mind. The alarm would go off in a minute, only I didn't need the diversion anymore. My clever little plan had backfired. And there was no way I had enough time to run back and turn the alarm off. In a minute or two, 9th East would be crawling with the infected. And as bad as that was,
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