She’d spent most of the afternoon and early evening unobtrusively spying to see how regular the guard shifts were, where they patrolled, and if there were any weak points they could use in their favor. There were. For instance, the town seemed to rely primarily on sheer dumb luck. There were only two guards monitoring the main gate at any given time. These were apparently the only jobs they didn’t trust to their non-resident workers, instead relying on a steady stream of volunteers from their community residents.

The walls of the community were high, at least ten feet, higher than any of them could climb without aid, but Rachael had paid attention to where the ladders the workers used were stored, and she had an idea.

She just hoped that some of the town’s dumb luck would be on their side tonight. They were going to need it.

The three of them left the house, well-worn boots falling softly on the grass and pavement. They kept to the deep shadows between houses, ducking into the darkness at any signs of movement. The streets were pretty much deserted; most of the town was already asleep, preparing for a new day.

The storage building was adjacent to the country club turned city hall. A risk, but a calculated one, and one that Rachael hoped would pay off. She sent Claudia and Jason to the east wall where they’d wait for her, and she would meet them by the side gate. It was further out of their way, but the further away from the front gate, the less chance of them being spotted.

She wound between the buildings, keeping to the darkness, eyes darting for any signs of movement, of life, of danger. The town was silent, eerily so, but no one seemed to be awake in this section.

Good.

The storage building bordered the road that led to the city hall. It was small and unassuming except for the large padlock on the front. Rachael crouched down and studied it. She’d learned how to pick locks years ago for her LARP character, but she was out of practice and didn’t have the right tools with her. She was going to need to rely more on brute strength.

Pulling one of her throwing knives from her belt, she jammed the tip into the lock, rocking it back and forth, lodging it in, before twisting sharply, trying to jam the lock.

“Fuck. Work!” she grunted under her breath, forcing all of her strength into the knife.

Rachael froze, heart pounding as a sound carried to her ears. Was there someone there? The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, along with the certainty she was being watched.

She looked around, eyes darting to all the darkened windows and long shadows. She couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean anything. She needed to work faster.