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Gilan crept to the back door of the house while
Zepith went to the front.
Gilan pulled out a small stone he had selected
earlier out of his pocket. It was smooth and was
almost bigger than his hand. He gripped the
stone tightly and waited.
He heard a loud crash. Zepith had thrown his own
rock into the front door. Gilan waited several
seconds for the alarm to go off before hurling
his stone through the window.
Zepith had assured him that it was natural for
people to head for the latest sound. Gilan hoped
Zepith was right as he sprinted around the house
to join Zepith, who had expertly picked the lock
and was gripping the doorknob, ready for Gilan.
Wordlessly he opened the door.
Gilan could hear confused shouts on the story
above. He saw legs running down the stairs, with
a beam of light in front of him.
Gilan grabbed Zepith and pulled him into a room
to the left of the front door. He peeked out
behind the wall and saw a fugre bending over te
stone. Gilan turned to Zepith.
"Ready for the next part?" He whispered.
Zepith nodded. Gilan's gaze went to something in
the shadows, behind Zepith.
"Wait a minute." He silently padded to the back
of the dark room.
Gilan realized the room was a study. A large
desk was in the back. Bookcases lined the walls.
Gilan figured that it was unlike average City
people to have books in their homes. He suddenly
felt a pang of guilt in his gut. There were some
kind people in the City! He grabbed a pen out of
the bin he had noticed and a scrap of paper. He
fumbled in the dark to scribble a note on the
piece of paper. His blind eye wasn't helping in
the darkness.
Gilan folded up the note and slipped it in his
pocket.
"Alright, I'm ready," he whispered. Peering
around the corner, he saw no one was in
sight. "Go!"
Zepith dashed to the back door, opened it and
slammed it several times. Gilan saw four figures
in bathrobes run down as Zepith dived under the
couch and threw the former inhabitant - a cat -
out the door and kicked it shut. The cat
scampered off and its tail whisked around the
corner of the neighboring house, seeming like
the last of the robbers or gang to leave.
The four figures immediately went to the broken
window. One cursed in a low voice and muttered
to the others as Gilan saw his chance. He ran
upstairs on silent feet and took a right into
what he assumed where the bedrooms. He was in
luck. It was the parents' bedroom. Gilan quickly
opened a drawer of a dresser and dug around. He
found two shirts, several pants, and as much as
he could fit in his used trash bag Zepith gave
him.
Then he went to the spot experienced robber
Zepith had told him: It was the habit of City
people to keep some money by their beds so that
in case of a fire, they would have a bit of
money.
Gilan picked up a large lamp and looked under
it. There was a small pouch. Gilan put it in his
bag. He shook out the pillow, and two bags fell
out, and were added to his bag. There were three
coins in a vase, twenty in the top drawer of the
bed side table, and another pouch under the bed.
By then Gilan was satisfied.
He was about to leave when the light flicked on
and he saw a hooded man standing in the doorway.
"Hello, Gilan," the British accent was familiar
to Gilan.
Then the man flicked back his hood.
Gilan gaped. It was Rolund, one of the five
Strongers who had arrested him.
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