Read Online Silver by Steven Savile - Free Book Online

and threw the back door open in time to see the intruder going over the wall. He reasoned the next move out in the two seconds it took him to cover the distance from the door to the gate. There were two bolts—one top, one bottom—and a latch on the gate, which would take no more than ten seconds to slip. Going over the glass-topped wall would take no more than three seconds but would almost certainly tear his hands up. In those seven seconds the intruder would have to be an Olympic sprinter to hit the end of the alley and disappear out of sight before Ronan could see which way he had gone.
    Ronan slammed back the bolts and threw the gate open.
    The alley was empty.
    “Bollocks,” he cursed, looking left and right frantically. He reached for his cell phone to call it in to Nonesuch, slipping the Bluetooth earpiece into his ear. Lethe could hit the Eye in the Sky and track the bastard over every inch of the city if he had to. That was the joy of technology. He hit the speed dial on the earpiece and slipped the phone itself back into his pocket.
    “Go for Lethe,” the voice in his ear said. The kid liked to play at soldier.
    “Jude, it’s Frost. There was someone inside Fisher’s place. I’m in pursuit on foot. I could really do with some eyes here, so do whatever it is you do.” “Understood, boss. I’ll have visuals in a few seconds.”
    Ronan braced his hands on his knees, using those few seconds to catch his breath.
    “Come on, come on,” Lethe muttered.
    Ronan was breathing hard. He looked up at the sky, as though looking for the satellite looking for him.
    “It’s like looking for a mouse in a bloody great maze. Maybe a bit of cheese would help. You couldn’t have picked a busier time could you?”
    Ronan looked anxiously one way down the street, then the other.
    Finally Lethe half-shouted, “Yes! I see you. Okay, so what am I looking for?”
    There was no way the man could have made it to either end of the alley, which meant he had to have gone over another wall and was hiding in one of the many back enclosures.
    “Anyone else out here?”
    Before Lethe could answer Ronan heard the sound of breaking glass. The walls were too high for him to see which house it was, but they couldn’t hide him from Lethe’s godlike perspective. “Five doors down. Your side of the street. He’s going in through one of the downstairs windows.”
    It made sense. It was exactly what Ronan would have done if the roles had been reversed. The shops were empty—less chance of coming head to head with an angry homeowner with a baseball bat—and there was a 50-50 chance the shop was on a silent alarm, meaning he could try and exit with the semblance of normality, making it look like there was nothing more natural than him coming out of the closed shop.
    And if he couldn’t open the door on the other side, couldn’t do it the low-key way, a chair out through the window, onto the Monster and away before anyone could stop him.
    A moment later the screech of a burglar alarm kicked in and he knew exactly which house the man was in. He ran toward the sound of the siren. There was blood on the glass where the man had gone over the wall. He didn’t have a lot of choice except to follow. He boosted himself up. The shards of glass shredded his hands as his weight came down on them. Ignoring the pain, Ronan Frost heaved himself over the wall and dropped down onto the other side. The place was cluttered with empty cartons stamped with names that meant nothing to him. He tried to visualize the business side of Acorn Road and realized it was the hairdressers sandwiched between the antique store and the last of the estate agents.
    “Has he come out the other side?”
    “Not yet,” Lethe told him. “So watch yourself.”
    He didn’t need telling twice, not with the memory of the man’s fist still imprinted on his face. He clambered in through the broken window.
    There were no lights on inside, giving the other man plenty of shadows