Glimpse by Steve Whibley

backdoor at the other corner of the house. “Colin, go look in those windows over there, and Dean, you go around the front. If you see anything suspicious, come back here.”
    â€œWho died and made you boss?” Colin grumbled.
    Lisa gave him a stern look and he stalked off, sliding his back along the stucco wall. I gulped back a feeling of dread that had taken post in my throat, and moved toward the front of the house. The moon wasn’t full, but it still cast a bluish light that seemed too bright for what we were doing. Even plastering myself against the house, I felt exposed. There just weren’t enough shadows. I kept imagining one of the neighbors—blue-haired Mrs. Barton, perhaps—poking her head out a bedroom window and catching us peeping into old man Utlet’s windows. They’d call the cops for sure, and what would we say? “ Oh, we were just looking in to see if he was still alive. ” Yeah, they wouldn’t have a problem with that explanation.
    I peered around the corner and thought I heard a muffled grumble. I braved another step, then another, following the noise. While I was kneeling on a bed of perennials at the other end of the house, I noticed that a small window just above my head was open a crack and the grumbling was coming from inside. Only it didn’t sound like grumbling anymore—it sounded as if someone were choking or struggling for breath.
    No longer worried if anyone could see me, I jumped up and pressed my face to the glass. The blinds were only half drawn, and the moonlight cast a soft glow over Mr. Utlet’s body. He was lying flat on his bed, wearing the same clothes we’d seen him in earlier; a brown book lay open on his chest. The noise coming from him was ungodly. I opened my mouth to shout for Colin to call an ambulance, sure Mr. Utlet was suffering from some kind of seizure, until he turned to his side and smacked his lips.
    Snoring? He’s snoring ?
    I stared down at the old man, disturbed and relieved in the same instant. On the one hand, the fact that he was obviously alive relieved me, but on the other hand, the fact that any human being could sound as if they had swallowed a chainsaw and still be considered okay was something I had trouble wrapping my head around. I probably would have stood there for the rest of the night if Lisa hadn’t come out of nowhere and tackled me into the bushes.
    â€œShhhh!” Lisa pressed a finger to her lips. Her eyes were the size of grenades, and she looked on the verge of panic. I opened my mouth to speak, but she shook her head quickly and pointed over my shoulder.
    I turned and stared back across the manicured lawn. It was as empty as it had been when we arrived. I didn’t see anything particularly strange… But then a movement at the edge of the lawn caught my eye. Two men clad in dark clothing rounded the corner of the house and moved toward the front porch. My heart jumped into my throat while my mind struggled to make sense of what was happening.
    A robbery?
    I risked a glance at my watch. 12:46. We still had almost an hour before… well, before whatever was going to happen would happen. They’ll try the door, it’ll be locked, and they’ll move on . At least I hoped they would.
    The leaves to my right rustled, and Lisa tightened her grip on my arm. A third man stepped out from the bushes only a couple feet away. He was about thirty, or maybe late twenties, and had a shaved head and a mean scowl. He was close enough that I could see the tattoo on his forearm: an eagle landing on a sword. All he had to do was look to his right and he’d spot us, but his eyes stayed glued to the house. He strode across the lawn as though he had all the right in the world to be there, unconcerned that he was in plain sight of anyone who happened to be watching from surrounding homes, and reached for the door at the top of the porch. I held my breath as he turned the knob