busting my balls,” Brown hears Hayward mutter.
“I’m not busting your balls, lad. If I was, your balls would be busted. But, that’s a little tidbit that you won’t forget, right?”
“I guess so,” Hayward sullenly answers.
“Look. We’re on the fast track for educating the both of you and I don’t have time to worry about your feelers. At this point, we either live through this or we die. There is no timeout for instructional purposes. We don’t get retries. And the only way we’ll come through this alive is if we start using this,” Brown states, pointing at his head.
“Okay, I get it,” Hayward says. “So, if that’s the case, why don’t we just break one of the front windows?”
“Alarm systems 101. Alarms are expensive, so they’re mostly placed on the entryways with a motion tracker placed somewhere inside…maybe two. Windows are often left uncovered, so breaking one may not set off the alarm. Now, mark the location of the alarmed houses in your head and let’s get this done.”
Without waiting for a reply, Brown heads toward the back of the corner house. After checking that the visible backyards are clear of infected, he heads across the neatly trimmed grass and leaps over a short fence into the adjacent yard.
A swing set and small fort occupy most of the yard, with metal construction vehicle toys scattered throughout, some upright, some tipped over on their sides. It also happens to be the first house with an alarm sign out front.
Small child residing here lowers the odds of the house being empty—unless they use child care—but what the hell, might as well give it a shot , Brown thinks, edging carefully toward the sliding glass door.
Drapes are pulled across the entry, obstructing any view of the interior. A quick test shows that the sliding glass door is locked.
Well, that’s a good sign at least , Brown thinks, securing his grip on the handgun and readying himself for any quick surprises.
“If we trigger an alarm, the infected are likely to make a beeline for the noise. Which means that no matter which way we go, there’s a chance that we’ll run into some. If we move quickly enough, there’s a chance that we can slip through. The plan is that we’ll head to the house behind us, turn right, and go two blocks before circling around to the girl’s house. If we get split up, we’ll meet there. Any questions?”
Both cadets shake their heads.
Directing Hayward to gather a rock from a portion of the yard that has been landscaped, he stands with his back to the outside wall. With a backswing, Brown bashes the rock into the large pane of glass. The resounding crack echoes across the yard. Looking at the window, he notes large fractures radiating from the impact.
Shit! Hurry, hurry, hurry , he thinks, slamming the rock into the same location.
With a crash of broken glass, shards fall inward and hit the drapes before hitting the floor.
“Get ready.”
Reaching through the break, Brown deftly undoes the lock and slides the door open. Expecting an ear-piercing alarm to blare from within, he is momentarily taken aback by the silence that ensues.
What the fuck? They have an alarm and don’t set it? What in the fuck is the use of having one, then?
Knowing that he doesn’t have much time, if any, before nearby infected react to the sound of the break-in, he whispers “Stay here,” pushes the drapes aside, and steps inside.
The interior is darkened by drawn shades. Thinking that most alarms are set near the front door or in a nearby hallway, he quickly heads toward the front of the house. Sure enough, in a hallway close to the entrance, two wall-mounted panels glow brightly within the gloomy interior. One of the panels is for the heating/AC system. The other is an alarm panel. Looking closely at the lit buttons, he finds the emergency button and presses firmly. The siren that he expected to hear upon opening the back door blares loudly.
Hustling back to the broken door,
“I’m not busting your balls, lad. If I was, your balls would be busted. But, that’s a little tidbit that you won’t forget, right?”
“I guess so,” Hayward sullenly answers.
“Look. We’re on the fast track for educating the both of you and I don’t have time to worry about your feelers. At this point, we either live through this or we die. There is no timeout for instructional purposes. We don’t get retries. And the only way we’ll come through this alive is if we start using this,” Brown states, pointing at his head.
“Okay, I get it,” Hayward says. “So, if that’s the case, why don’t we just break one of the front windows?”
“Alarm systems 101. Alarms are expensive, so they’re mostly placed on the entryways with a motion tracker placed somewhere inside…maybe two. Windows are often left uncovered, so breaking one may not set off the alarm. Now, mark the location of the alarmed houses in your head and let’s get this done.”
Without waiting for a reply, Brown heads toward the back of the corner house. After checking that the visible backyards are clear of infected, he heads across the neatly trimmed grass and leaps over a short fence into the adjacent yard.
A swing set and small fort occupy most of the yard, with metal construction vehicle toys scattered throughout, some upright, some tipped over on their sides. It also happens to be the first house with an alarm sign out front.
Small child residing here lowers the odds of the house being empty—unless they use child care—but what the hell, might as well give it a shot , Brown thinks, edging carefully toward the sliding glass door.
Drapes are pulled across the entry, obstructing any view of the interior. A quick test shows that the sliding glass door is locked.
Well, that’s a good sign at least , Brown thinks, securing his grip on the handgun and readying himself for any quick surprises.
“If we trigger an alarm, the infected are likely to make a beeline for the noise. Which means that no matter which way we go, there’s a chance that we’ll run into some. If we move quickly enough, there’s a chance that we can slip through. The plan is that we’ll head to the house behind us, turn right, and go two blocks before circling around to the girl’s house. If we get split up, we’ll meet there. Any questions?”
Both cadets shake their heads.
Directing Hayward to gather a rock from a portion of the yard that has been landscaped, he stands with his back to the outside wall. With a backswing, Brown bashes the rock into the large pane of glass. The resounding crack echoes across the yard. Looking at the window, he notes large fractures radiating from the impact.
Shit! Hurry, hurry, hurry , he thinks, slamming the rock into the same location.
With a crash of broken glass, shards fall inward and hit the drapes before hitting the floor.
“Get ready.”
Reaching through the break, Brown deftly undoes the lock and slides the door open. Expecting an ear-piercing alarm to blare from within, he is momentarily taken aback by the silence that ensues.
What the fuck? They have an alarm and don’t set it? What in the fuck is the use of having one, then?
Knowing that he doesn’t have much time, if any, before nearby infected react to the sound of the break-in, he whispers “Stay here,” pushes the drapes aside, and steps inside.
The interior is darkened by drawn shades. Thinking that most alarms are set near the front door or in a nearby hallway, he quickly heads toward the front of the house. Sure enough, in a hallway close to the entrance, two wall-mounted panels glow brightly within the gloomy interior. One of the panels is for the heating/AC system. The other is an alarm panel. Looking closely at the lit buttons, he finds the emergency button and presses firmly. The siren that he expected to hear upon opening the back door blares loudly.
Hustling back to the broken door,
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