When the Chips Are Down (6 page)

“Be nice,”
Brooklyn said. Zane was still a little irritated with Caleb, but more nervous and excited about going to Boise than anything else.

 

“We need to have some sort of a plan once we get to Boise,” Brooklyn said, leaning forward in the back seat to face Trent and Zane.

“What
kind of plan?” Zane wanted to know.


We need to know what we’re going to do once we get there!” Brooklyn exclaimed, “If Dr. Eldridge kept secret documentation of his research or something that the government doesn’t want us to know, where do you think he would’ve kept it?”

 

“At the lab where he worked,” Trent replied.

“Well, there’s no way we’re getting in there
; security is tight at those places. I guess our best bet is to find his old house,” Zane said.

“You’re going to break into a dead guy’s house?  How do you know he doesn’t have a family still living there?” Trent retorted as if it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “His obituary didn’t say anything about a wife or kids,” Zane said.

“You guys are going to get us thrown in jail,” Trent g
roaned.

 

“No one’s going to jail.  Brook, what exit do we need to take next?” Zane said. 

“We can stay on this road until
we get to Boise,” Brooklyn informed, looking at the map.  “We’ll stop at the next rest area, and you can drive for a while,” Trent told Zane. 

“That’s fine
. You can take a nap and become less grumpy,” Zane remarked.

“I have good reason to be grumpy.  We’re taking a very long and dangerous trip on a notion that if we go snooping through a dead scientist’s house, we
might
find something,” Trent grumbled. 

 

“This could be the ground breaking trip of a lifetime,” Zane emphasized. 

“Or it could be a complete waste of time and gas,” Trent retorted.  Brooklyn understood why Zane was so excited about going to Boise.  It had given him hope, and he was clinging to it.  If this trip did turn out to be a waste of time, she was not sure
how he was going to handle it.

 

“Well, here we are. Now what?” Trent said. They were parked on the street in an upper middle class neighborhood, staring at Dr. Eldridge’s gray and white house.  It seemed surprisingly modest for a scientist. The sun was setting and the house was dark. Children were playing in the front yard next door. “We should wait until those kids go inside,” Zane said.

“They probably won’t even notice or care if we’re snooping around. They’re too busy playing,”
Trent said.

“Kids are nos
ey and they have big mouths.  Of course they will notice us,” Zane replied.

“W
hy don’t you follow that gravel road over there? I think there may be an alleyway behind these houses,” Brooklyn suggested.

 

Zane started the truck and turned onto the gravel road, and sure enough, there was an alley, but it did not run directly behind Eldridge’s house. “Just park the truck and we’ll walk. It’s not that far,” Brooklyn instructed. Zane parked the truck behind a red brick building and the three began walking. “I think those kids have gone inside. I don’t hear them anymore,” Brooklyn said when they were near the house.

 

“Good,” Zane replied. They walked through the gate and stood in Dr. Eldridge’s back yard, nervous and unsure of what to do next. None of them had ever broken into a house before and they never thought that they would. Brooklyn pulled three pairs of gardening gloves out of her jacket pocket and threw a pair to Zane and Trent. 

 

“Well, this isn’t getting anything done,” Zane announced after sliding on his gloves. He marched up the steps to the back door and pulled the doorknob. As expected, it was locked, so he pulled a screw driver from his pocket and began feverishly attempting to pick the lock. After repeatedly twisting the head of the screw driver into the keyhole and accomplishing nothing, he gave up. “Stand back,” he exclaimed, making a fist.

“No,
don’t punch out the glass. It’ll make too much noise,” Trent barked.

 

“Dammit! Where the hell did Brook go?” Zane said, frustrated.

“Look
, there’s a small basement window. We could probably kick that out fairly easily,” Trent cried, pointing.

“Won’t that make a lot of noise
, too?” Zane said.

“Guys, the front door is unlocked!”
Brooklyn whispered, running towards them.  Feeling foolish, Zane and Trent started towards the front of the house.

 

“Sweet mother of god,” Zane exclaimed when they entered the living room. The three looked around in astonishment.

“Somebody has tr
ashed this place,” Brooklyn gasped. The house had been ransacked. Papers and personal items were scattered across the floor. The other rooms in the house were no different. Every drawer was open and even the mattress was overturned. “They were obviously looking for something, probably the same thing we’re looking for,” Brooklyn commented.

“And they probably found it,” Zane said, aggravated.

 

“Maybe it was just some desperate scavengers who knew
the house was empty,” Trent proposed.

“Then why didn’t they take this?” Brooklyn said, holding up a Rolex. Trent looked at her stunned.

“Tell me now that this guy wasn’t doing controversial research,” Zane said, “I knew Brook and I were right all along, and it looks like we’re too late.”

 

“Maybe not,” Brooklyn said after a moment.


Why do you say that?” Zane asked.

“Maybe they didn’t find what they were lookin
g for. Eldridge was a smart man.  If he had something he was hiding here, he may have hidden it so well, they couldn’t find it. Let’s fan out and start looking for a secret door or compartment, anything that would make a good hiding place,” Brooklyn instructed.

 

“This isn’t an old 18
th
century house. It’s unlikely that there are any secret tunnels,” Trent argued.

“Just start looking
. We’ve come all this way,” Brooklyn bossed. Zane and Trent began moving the living room furniture, looking for a hidden compartment under the maple floor. “It looks like an ordinary floor to me,” Trent concluded.

“Wasn’t your uncle
Gary a drug dealer?” Zane asked.

“He used to be.  Why do you ask?” Trent wanted to know.

“Where did he keep his stash?” Zane said.

“He hid drugs inside his couch.  That was where the po
lice found them anyway.  Why are you so curious about him?  He was a loser,” Trent said.

 

“Think about it, man!” Zane exclaimed as he gestured towards Eldridge’s green and white sofa.

“Oh
! I get it,” Trent said.  He disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with a large steak knife.  He slashed open the cushions as Zane and Brooklyn pulled cotton from them.

“There’s nothing in here but stuffing,” Brooklyn said after
they had pulled everything out. She went to check the basement. “Gross!” she shrieked when she discovered it contained only mold and several large rats. 

 

“Why are you looking through the dresser drawers?  Somebody obviously beat you to it,” Trent said to Zane when they were in the master bedroom.

“They could’ve missed something,” Zane replied, dumping the contents of a drawer onto the mattress.

“I doubt it; these people were thorough,” Trent remarked as he stepped inside the walk-in closet.  Every article of clothing was lying on the floor with the pockets turned inside out. They searched the air ducts, chimney, and dusty attic, but their search rendered them nothing but hopeless and dirty.

 

“We must be too late. These people have gotten what they came for,” Trent sighed, glancing around the dining room. Zane did not want to give up. His adrenaline was soaring.

“Let’s tear up this carpet,” he said.

“Are you crazy? We don’t have the tools for that,” Trent retorted.

“My tool box is in the truck,” Zane said.

“All you have is a couple of claw hammers and a screw driver.  You can’t tear up carpeting with that!” Trent exclaimed.

While
Zane and Trent stood in the dining room arguing about the carpet, Brooklyn walked around the living room, feeling along the lime green walls, looking for anything abnormal. Tap… tap… tap… tap…
thud!
“Guuuyys,” Brooklyn called, excitedly, “I think I found something.”

 

Trent and Zane ran into the living room. “What is it?” they asked.

“I think there’s something behind this wall,” Brooklyn said with her hand still on th
e hollow spot she had found.  Zane and Trent crowded around her, studying the wall.

“The paint on this section
does look newer than the rest of the wall,” Trent observed, shining his flashlight on the hollow spot. Zane ran out of the room and emerged with a hammer.

“Get back,” he barked
. Trent and Brooklyn moved away from the wall as Zane swung the hammer into it.

 

He peeled off the plaster and pounded the hollow section of the wall until he stopped suddenly with the hammer still raised in his hand. “What is it?” Trent asked. Zane dropped the hammer and knelt down. He reached inside the hole and pulled out a manila envelope. Brooklyn and Trent hovered over him. Inside it was a thick stack of papers and a flash drive. Zane flipped through the papers, skimming over them. “This is it.  This is the documentation of his research! He
was
researching the effects of the microchip,” he said triumphantly.

 

A smile came across Brooklyn’s face. She was excited, elated, and fighting the urge to shove a finger in Trent’s face and say ‘I told you so.’ “What does it say?” Brooklyn said, kneeling beside Zane, whose hair was covered in plaster dust. Trent walked towards the front window and peered out around the curtain.

“There’s a lot here to read, but it appears he observed changes in a group of men and women before and after their microchips were installed,” Zane
replied.

“Let’s get out of here now. We’ll read all of this later,” Brooklyn
urged.

 

“Oh dammit!” Trent exclaimed backing away from the window, “It’s the cops.”

“What!” Brooklyn cried, rising to her feet.
  Zane quickly shoved Eldridge’s research back into its envelope.

“The neighbors must have heard something
.  Come on, you two.  MOVE IT!” Trent yelled, running out of the living room. Zane and Brooklyn followed, heading for the back door. Zane clutched the envelope tightly. They flung open the door and ran across the backyard and into the alley.

 

As soon as Zane reached the alley, something grabbed him and jolted him backyards. 
Oh God, no!  They got me!
he thought.  He whirled around and saw his shirt was caught on the gate.  He yanked the shirt loose, cutting his hand on the metal “No Trespassing” sign that hung on the gate.

“Police
! Stop!” a voice shouted from the backyard. They ran faster.

 

“Come on, man!” Trent yelled to Zane. Unlike Trent and Brooklyn, Zane was moderately overweight and out of shape, and he was struggling to keep up with them.  Brooklyn had caught up with Trent, but Zane was a good ten feet behind. They could hear the officer running behind them.

 

He was gaining on Zane.
I can’t get caught or we’ll lose everything,
Zane thought frantically. Then he had an idea. Zane ran across to the other side of the gravel road with the officer hot on his heals. Running as hard as he could, he quickly jumped over the large pothole he remembered seeing when there was still daylight.

 

Not having time to react, the officer’s foot snagged the pothole, and he hit the ground with a hard thud. Zane ran breathlessly towards Trent and Brooklyn, who were already standing beside the truck. “The keys!” Trent shouted. Zane hurled the keys toward Trent. He leapt forward, caught them, unlocked the door, and the three scrambled inside. Trent started the truck and backed out of their parking spot, kicking up rocks and dirt.

 

That was when they heard what sounded like a pack of bottle rockets going off in the bed of the truck. “We’re being shot at!” Brooklyn cried.

“Get down!” Trent yelled. Brooklyn and Zane crouched down on the floorboard while Trent stomped the gas pedal to the floor and sped away.

 

“Do you still have the envelope?” Brooklyn asked when they were on a main road. “Yes,” Zane said, still panting.

“What if he got our license plate number” Trent said nervously.

“I doubt it
. The alley was really dark, and I smashed your plate lights out before we left Montana,” Zane said.

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