The Rivening

Stakes Raised

Connie waited, checking her watch until an hour had passed. She knew her Swiss army knife was still tucked away in her backpack. Maybe she could wiggle the longest blade out to the hook and leverage it up and out of the way. As Connie reached for the bag, the door rattled and she jumped back into bed, quickly pulling up the covers, feigning sleep. She heard the hook scrape away, the door open, and a few soft footsteps into the room and then nothing for a long time.

Who was it? Were they standing in the room, or had they left? Connie strained her ears and finally opened her eyes to confront whoever it was. No one was there. She got out of bed and saw that the door was not nested tightly in the frame. The hook must be off.

Connie slowly opened the door wider and scanned the interior corridors as far as she could see. No sign of anyone and no sounds. She put on her shoes, quickly stuffed a few more things in her backpack, and stealthily crept out of the room, replacing the hook in the eye screw. Someone was giving her an opportunity. This was no time to dither. She'd done enough of that.

Connie ducked under the motion sensors in the stairwell to avoid activating the lighting. The corridor on the ground level was always dimly lit. Detouring through the dark interior garden, she leaned out to check if the exits were still being guarded. Both sides were empty. Connie used the exit that led out into the grounds, away from Square One. To get down to Octo and the bike station beyond, she worked her way down the incline through an overgrown section and emerged several minutes later with a few scratches and a muddy backside.

Though the bike shed was not brightly lit, it still made Connie nervous that she easily could be spotted once inside. Standing in the dark, she stared into the open door trying to locate an easy-to-grab 1-2. The stock of bikes looked depleted and the normal order in the shed in some disarray, likely because of Brodurne.

Through a tangle of wheels, Connie thought she saw a couple of 1-2's toward the back. She'd have to move a few of the bigger bikes to get at one of them. She wriggled her way around behind the big bikes and leaned down to test the tires of a 1-2.

"Well now," James' voice boomed into the shed.

Connie froze for a milli-second and slowly scrunched to the ground.

He continued, "Here we have it. Dahria writ large. Like some hippie commune wet dream."

Grayson laughed, "Now James. I think they're a few notches above that. I find it all rather quaint."

Connie noticed a door half open behind her leading into a dark space. As the two men spoke, she quietly crawled into the room. Inside the space, she skimmed her hand lightly back and forth in the dark area ahead of her to ensure she wouldn't bump into anything that would create a noise. After securing a clear spot, Connie turned and sat with her legs tucked up in front of her to wait until the men left.

"And look, that door is wide open!" James barked. "These dimwit Dahrians. I'm going to bring a proper lock the next time we come. At least they could shut the damn door."

"Yes, James. Among the wonders of civilization we can bestow on Dahria. Locks and keys."

"It's not funny. Anyone could waltz in there. Though Gristig says they won't. Everyone knows Fanik uses it, and no one wants to cross him. The surly bastard."

"Well, things will move quickly now. Once we finish convincing Connie to make passage runs."

James chuckled, "Kinda feisty today. You really think she'll come around?"

"I know her. She'll come around." Grayson spoke smugly. "It's her signature style. She gives a bit of bark, but there's no bite in the end. I just need another day with her."

"Right. You're the smooth one. Your forte. I suppose I could learn a thing or two from you. I'm gonna close that door before we go."

Connie was sure they'd find her. As James rattled bikes making his way to her hiding place, she reached behind her to feel if she could scoot back a little deeper into the room. Her hand touched a familiar shape. She swallowed a gasp. Her fingers lightly grazed along the object as far as she could reach from her current position, confirming her fears.

Gun.

That would be guns. Connie felt more gun stocks. Worried she'd topple them over, she drew her hand back, hugging her knees, and waited for James to appear.

"Hurry up. We don't want to late for this meeting." Grayson spoke impatiently.

"Keep your shirt on or I'll make you do all the pedalling."

The door closed. A narrow slit of light leaked along the edge, hardly penetrating the dark room. Connie slowly released her held in breath. The good news - they didn't find her. But the bad news, the very baddest of news. The guns. What were they planning?

All bark and no bite. Screw that. Connie was boiling mad.

And panicked. About what the guns augured.

She crawled to the door and tried peering through the slit. It was too narrow to see much but she could hear them maneuvering out a bicycle. Another frustrating wait. She needed to allow enough time for them to be a decent distance away before trying anything.

The only song she could think of to pass the time was the '12 Days of Christmas' though couldn't make it farther than the six maids a milking before slowing pushing the door open and scanning the bike shed. She needed to move fast before someone else came to claim or return a bike. She turned around to make a quick inventory of the arsenal in Fanik's room.

From living with her grandparents up north, Connie knew a bit about guns. Connie's grandfather hunted, though not so much as he got older. But he made sure Connie could handle a rifle. And Sonya's father, Clarence, was an avid hunter, and owned handguns.

These were no ordinary hunting rifles. They looked like military grade weaponry, enough to arm 20 or 30 people, with a pile of handguns thrown in as well. In a place like Ladore, that would be enough to easily control the passage and likely terrorize the whole domain. If they succeeded in forcing the passage to allow heavily armed non-signalers from Earthside unlimited access, it would lead to the end of Dahria. So much for Grayson and James' happy little win-win situation. Connie felt sick.

She shook her head. James was right. The naivete of the Dahrians barely securing this little arsenal was mind-boggling and revealed how unknowing they were about the can of worms they were opening.

Without pausing to think too hard on it, Connie snatched one of the handguns and several magazines and stuffed them into her backpack. She swung it onto her back, grabbed a bicycle, and stole out into the night.