Stealing Silence Read online

  STEALING SILENCE

  BY

  E.A. DARL

  COPYRIGHT © 2017 E.A. DARL

  All rights reserved. Reproduction or utilization of this work in any form, by

  any means now known or hereinafter invented, including, but not limited to,

  xerography, photocopying and recording, and in any known storage and

  retrieval system, is forbidden without permission from the copyright holder.

  Cover Design by Greg Simanson

  Edited by Judith Docken

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are

  either the product of the authorʹs imagination or are used fictitiously. Any

  resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is

  unintentional.

  EPUB ISBN 978-0-9959940-2-7

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1 | The Theft

  Chapter 2 | Jail Time

  Chapter 3 | Time to Think

  Chapter 4 | Whispered Dreams

  Chapter 5 | Home

  Chapter 6 | The Kidnapping

  Chapter 7 | The Letter

  Chapter 8 | The First Peek

  Chapter 9 | For Mom & Dad

  Chapter 10 | Storming the Warehouse

  Chapter 11 | The Secret Room

  Chapter 12 | The Thumb Drive

  *** THE END ***

  THE SILENT LANDS CHRONICLES

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  Chapter 1

  The Theft

  FOR THE TENTH TIME, Avalon crouched by the rusting wheel of the abandoned wagon, the hood of her filthy hoodie pulled tight round her face. The sleeves were too long and bunched up in the crook of her arm. She had cut holes in the cuffs to act as gloves on the colder evenings. Avalon’s cracked and dirty fingernails poked through the openings and curled around the rotting wooden spokes as she counted off the steps of the patrolling guard.

  The great dome that covered the greenhouse was lit from within by rows of hydroponic lights, blurred to her view by the fogged glass. Avalon quickly lowered her eyes, preserving her night vision and continued to count inside her head. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of so much food gathered in one location. She pulled a stone from her pocket and began to suck on it, to quell the rumblings and distract herself from her hunger.

  Twenty eight. Twenty nine. Thirty, she counted silently.

  The guard disappeared around the far end of the greenhouse, to continue his patrol on the other side from where she hid. She checked both directions and listened for the telltale sounds of human movement, but all was silent. Neither creature nor insect stirred in the sweltering heat. She swiped her sleeve across her face, to clear her eyes of the sweat rolling down her forehead and dripping off her nose. It left a greasy smear on her pixie features.

  With one last check to be sure the coast was clear, she ran toward the glass enclosure, keeping to the shadows cast by the abandoned farm equipment. She zigzagged across the hundred or so yards that were the moment of truth, for in that one hundred yards there was no protection, no place to hide. She saw the camera mounted on a pole at the entrance to the greenhouse swing her direction and dropped flat to the ground. Her dirty clothing blended in with the dusty landscape as she froze, counting down the seconds until the camera swung away from her location. Blind to the gatekeepers, she ran for the shadow cast by the thick iron rib that supported the glass of the dome. Two feet of metal supported the bones and formed the foundation of the structure, running around the circumference of the structure. At periodic intervals, hinged metal plates were spaced, through which ran electrical cables and watering lines, that snaked up the sides of the greenhouse to feed the water supply lines suspended above and feeding to every vertical growing mat. Avalon tugged on the three foot wide plate, which opened to a squawk that shot into the silence like a gun shot. Avalon grimaced and then crawled into the hatch, wriggling herself over and under the tumble of lines, all which sought to either strangle or electrocute her. She moved slowly, careful to not touch any of the unprotected connections. With all this dirt and water, she was sure to electrocute herself if she misstepped.

  A line caught around her foot and she eased it out of the tangle, then slithered down onto the floor of the greenhouse. The rich, moist scent of growing assailed her hungered senses as she got to her feet. Everywhere was a riot of green plants and flowering crops in various stages of their reproductive cycle. As she straightened, her forehead bumped a plump red tomato and her eyes bulged at its size. She plucked the tomato and bit into its shining surface. The tangy juice ran down her chin in glorious rivulets and in four bites, she had consumed it. She swiped her sleeve across her chin as her eyes swept the interior, searching for the ripest and easiest bounty to harvest. She spied a carefully pruned apple tree, branches bent to the ground and tied for easy picking. A bag was produced from inside her sleeve and she plucked half a dozen apples and stuffed them inside it. Her eyes fell on plump ears of corn, sagging from an eight foot stalk. She took her knife and cut out four of the ears and stuffed them in the bag alongside the apples. Some fat mushrooms and a long zucchini also disappeared inside. With the bag nearly full and only so much room in the corded space of the hatch, she reluctantly returned to the hatch. On the way she grabbed a handful of blueberries from the bush hanging at eye level in its nutrient sack, and nearly cried with joy for the sweetness of the treat. She paused and stuffed a bunch in her pockets before kneeling down before the exit. She shoved the bag through the tangle, then dropped it gently onto the ground outside the green house. With a regretful last glance at the sinful amount of food all around her, she squeezed her way back through the narrow, dangerous opening, pulling herself out with her hands wrapped around the lower edge of the wall opening and inching forward with her toes. She pulled herself forward, head tucked to avoid a drooping cable.

  Suddenly hands grabbed her by the elbows and she was yanked out of the opening to slide to the ground with a thump that squashed the blueberries in the pockets of her hoodie. With a cry, she rolled over to be met with a flashlight that was shone directly into her eyes, blinding her.

  “Well, if it isn’t little Avalon the thief. So it’s you, who has been plundering the greenhouse, eh? A nice black market sideline I am sure.” The guard’s hand clamped around her upper arm, and he painfully pulled her to her feet. She kicked out at him but he dodged the attack easily, being twice her height and double her weight, if not triple. Instead she dropped her teeth to his arm and bit as hard as she could into the flesh of his forearm. Cursing, he clouted her with the hand that gripped the flash light. The rough lip of metal caught her cheek, slicing a gash even as her head snapped back. “Enough of that, you she-devil!” Rough hands pulled her arms behind her back and she heard the snap of handcuffs, as the cool metal encircled her wrists. Gripping her by the upper arm with his right hand, he picked up the bag of stolen edibles with his left and dragged her along behind him. She staggered, her head still wringing from the blow.

  It wasn’t until they left the ring of light cast by the greenhouse, that she saw them. A police squad car sat in the dark and leaning against the hood was Captain Anderson, the local constabulary. The guard dragged her forward and pushed her to the ground in front of the captain. “Here she is, Mitch! Finally we have caught the thief.” He spat the words like a curse. “This one is the mastermind behind the food thefts. Caught her red handed and on camera too! The interior camera shows her stuffing blueberries into her mouth and the evidence of the theft is on her sweater.”

  Mitch turned to Avalon and said “Turn out your pockets,” in a quiet voice. The guard grinned and shone the lig
ht on her.

  “Pretty damn hard to do, when I am handcuffed,” Avalon smirked, twisting around to show him her wiggling fingers.

  He frowned and gestured to the guard to unlock her hands, which he did with a muttered complaint. “She is a sly one, Captain. I really think you should keep her locked up.”

  “I will take your advice under consideration.” He focused on Avalon. “Now, turn out your pockets.”

  With a cheeky grin, she turned her pockets inside out, displaying the purple mashed remains of the blueberries. “It was just a snack, one that has been thoroughly ruined by Godzilla, here.” The guard gave her an ugly look and hitched his pants higher over his protruding stomach.

  “Look, Captain! I have your evidence. Look what she stole!” he said, proffering the bag of stolen food. She took it from the greenhouse, Captain! She is the thief!”

  “Thank you, I will take it from here. Shouldn’t you be securing the greenhouse? Fifty more starving urchins could have descended like a swarm of locusts on the greenhouse in the time you have stood here, advising me on my job. You’re dismissed.”

  The guard straightened and a look of horror flashed across his face. “You are so right, sir!” and he ran back into the light of the greenhouses, yelling at the top of his lungs.

  Avalon grinned at the retreating guard, and then her smile dropped as she focused on the captain.

  “Avalon, what am I going to do with you? You cannot steal food anymore. This has to stop. Why are you back here again?” Crossing his arms, he looked so much like a kindly father, with his crown of thick grey hair and a craggy lined face. He was the kind of father she wished she had. Despite his age, he was a muscled man, and towered over her five foot frame. The crown of her dark silky hair barely came to his shoulder and she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. She didn’t bother, until he put a finger under her chin and tilted her head back. “This time, you will have to come in. This time it means jail time.”

  Panic clutched at her throat and she swallowed painfully. “But I can’t go in, Mitch. I can’t!” She backed up a step and he grabbed her arm. Avalon winced under the pressure of his fingers as they contacted the bruises rising on her arm. Mitch lightened his hold but did not let go.

  “I’m sorry, but you must come with me this time.” He pulled her toward the squad car and pushed her into the back seat, before climbing behind the wheel.

  Avalon’s eyes scanned the handle-less interior and the fledgling panic gripped her in earnest. “Mitch, please, let me out. I can’t go with you! Let me out!”

  “Not this time, Avalon.”

  He engine purred to life as he turned the key. The headlights swung in a crazy arch and he drove off toward the police station, with a quietly sobbing Avalon in tow.

  Chapter 2

  Jail Time

  MITCH DROVE THE SQUAD car around the back of the small police station, pulling up under the portico that served as the prisoner entrance for the hundred year old red brick building. The police station had seen better days. When the town had been prosperous, before the current ills had assailed the town, the station has boasted ten squad cars and as many police officers and support staff. With the decline in the population of Melona to one-tenth of its population during the heyday of the farming community, the officers had moved on with their families into the bigger cities, where food could be found more readily.

  He turned off the engine then twisted in his seat to look at his prisoner. The skinny girl looked to be ten or twelve years old, a street urchin who had never had a home as far as he could tell. He could give her a bed and a hot meal for a change, even if it was in a jail cell. She huddled on the seat, knees drawn up to chin and head buried between her arms. Her shoulders shook. Against his better instincts, he felt his heart go out to her. Food was impossible to find at the best of times when one lived on the street. These were not the best of times.

  With a sigh, he shouldered open the door and got out of the car, then opened the back door and held out his hand. “Avalon, come.”

  She raised a defiant, tear streaked face to him, dropping her knees and sliding across the seat. She ignored his hand, scrambling out of the car on feet that looked poised to run. She bounced slightly on her toes and her eyes darted around as though searching for the best escape route. “Don’t try it, Avalon. I will hoist you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes if you even think of running.”

  Her eyes widened in shock, furious. Then her shoulders slumped and she nodded, defeated for the moment.

  “After you,” he said, gesturing toward the metal door where light spilled through a square of reinforced glass.

  Avalon trudged toward the door and paused while Mitch punched in the security code and pulled open the door. A concrete block walled corridor greeted her, the paint faded and scraped as though too many prisoners had been dragged up and down the passage. Mitch gave her a push in the back and she stepped into the hallway with a shiver of apprehension. Her eyes darted nervously around the sterile space, even as she was herded down its length. At the end a second locked door required a second code. As it swung shut behind her with an echoing click, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Avalon.” When she didn’t respond he lifted her chin again. “How old are you? Do you know?”

  Avalon opened her eyes and glared at him. “Of course I know. What do you take me for?”

  He studied her outraged face and said “OK then, what is your date of birth?” She immediately rattled off a date that made his eyes widen. “You are sixteen?” he said, searching for the lie in her words.

  “Just because I am small doesn’t mean I am a child.” She glared at him, daring him to say the obvious, well you sure look like a child and then there is your behaviour. But the words didn’t come. Instead, he gestured toward a wooden door on the right side. A brass plate announced the room as “Sentencing and Parole Review” in raised lettering. She entered a room of rich polished wood paneling and benches set like pews in a church that ended before a raised platform on which sat box, presumably for the judge. No one was in the room.

  “Have a seat in the front row,” Mitch commanded and then rang a bell sitting on the raised desk, before seating himself beside her. Avalon’s feet did not reach the floor. She pulled them up and sat cross-legged on the bench, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She had pushed back the filthy hood and her fringe of black hair swung into her eyes. It was cut short at the back, a ragged, uneven chopping as though she cut it herself without the aid of a mirror.

  “Where do you live, Avalon?” Silence greeted his words. “Where are your parents?” She shrugged, years of living on the street keeping her lips sealed. “Are you a member of the Firebrand gang?” She shook her head no, but still did not offer any information. He switched to a different line of questioning.

  “Why did you break into the greenhouse?” She gave him a disgusted look. “I know you are hungry, but you could have snatched the first thing that came to hand and gotten away clean before the guard made it around the green house, but you stayed and filled a sack full of food. This looks really bad, Avalon. You know the law. You know that the black market rings are being hunted down and eliminated. The government has make it their number one priority, to eliminate the underground food marketing. All food is to be distributed by the government in equal portions as per the registry.

  She gave him another disgusted look at the obtuseness of his comment. “To register for the food stamps, you have to have an address. It is a piece of information I prefer not to give.”

  “Because you prefer to steal? Why? So you can sell it to the underground?” He shook his head. “The gangs that run the black market are more of a threat to you than the police are, Avalon.” He studied her mutinous face then sighed and turned away as a side door opened and an elderly woman entered. She mounted the stairs to the huge oaken judge’s pedestal but instead took a seat at the scribe’s desk to its right. A green leather bound ledger sat on the table and she f
lipped it open then looked at them. “Please approach the lower court”

  Avalon slid off the bench and stuck her fingers in her pockets, only to realize that they were full of sticky berries. She resisted the urge to pull them out and lick the mash of off her fingers. Instead she shoved them deeper, searching in vain for a few that were not crushed.

  “Your Honour, I wish to present Avalon - “ He paused waiting for Avalon to fill in her last name but she remained silent. “ - Avalon, a young woman who was caught breaking into the greenhouse on Federation Way. She is to be charged with break and enter, and theft over five thousand.”

  “Five thousand!” gasped Avalon. “Those few apples are not worth five thousand dollars! Are you insane?”

  The judge rapped the gavel on the wooden plate, silencing her. “That is enough, young woman. You will remain silent until asked to speak. Continue, Captain Anderson.”

  “The food was recovered and has been returned to the greenhouse, but the fact that the thief was caught with the goods does not change the facts of the crime committed.”

  “The facts have been presented and the charges recorded. Do you have a witness?”

  “Yes, myself, and the guard at the facility, and the new federal cameras recorded the entire event.” Avalon winced at this pronouncement.

  The judge scribbled notes for a few more moments.

  “Now you may speak, what do you have to say for yourself, to these charges, young lady?”

  Avalon shifted her feet guiltily and looked up at the judge, pleading in her amber flecked eyes. “I am sorry, I will not do it again. I was just terribly hungry. Can I go now?”

  The judge stared at her then shook her head. “I think not. We will reconvene in the morning. You will be our guest this evening and forever as long as we wish to keep you, young Avalon, until you confess the truth behind your actions.”

  “No! I must go, I cannot stay here!” Desperation pitched her voice higher than she intended and her plea came out as a squeak. Both the judge and Mitch stared at her. “Please!”