Chapter Four
Eight-year old Alex Pruitt sat at the dinner table with his mom, his brother, and his sister. Nothing out of the ordinary, except that he was keenly aware of a band of burglars loose in the area and not a soul believed him. His siblings had taken to bullying the boy over his so-called "false alarms." The police similarly accused him of crying wolf, while the Air Force thought he was joking when he reported finding a strange microchip in his toy car with their insignia on it. Not even his own mother took him seriously. To them all, he was just another dumb kid.
The danger was all too real, however. He'd been watching those burglars long enough to gather that there were four of them. First was a middle-aged man with a haircut like that of Moe's from the Three Stooges; he was always clad in black and seemed to be the leader of the gang. Then, there was this super beefy guy who'd been wearing a super unconvincing old man disguise; he partnered with this skinny guy who drove his van very badly. And lastly, there was a big butt jogger lady who constantly wore the tightest pants; she looked gorgeous but Alex wasn't fooled – she was bad news. The four hadn't stolen anything from the houses they broke into though. They were after something bigger. The chase earlier that morning convinced the boy that there was more to his toy car than met the eye, and that was when he discovered the Axus Defense Technologies chip.
Those crooks were bound to confront him at some point. It was inevitable. He just wished he had more time to spend with his family in case things didn't go so well. An odd phone call that night would deny him his wish. Alex's mother answered and inadvertently gave the bad guys vital information about him, about the toy car and the chip.
"Yes, you know, he has one of those remote control cars," she said. The caller on the other side claimed to be a certain Mrs Clovis, but Alex could only guess that it belonged to the jogger lady. "He got it from that old woman across the street."
The boy leapt from his chair and made for the phone, pressing the hook to disconnect the call.
"Alex, what is the matter with you!? You don't just disconnect one of my calls," his mother yelled.
"Don't talk to her, please!" he asserted.
"Why not?"
"She's not Mrs Clovis. It was lies. All lies. She's dangerous!"
"What do you mean it wasn't her?"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his siblings glaring at him, no doubt judging him or preparing to mock him again. There was no way he could explain any further without making a laughingstock out of himself. Instead, he opened a counter drawer and brought out a phone directory. "Here," he replied. "Call her back. I think you'll be surprised." He then stormed out of the kitchen and went to sit on the stairs. Sadly, he could hear his mother shoving the directory back into the drawer. It was hopelessly clear that she'd punch caller ID to get back on-line with the imposter.
Shaking his head, he understood that it was too late. The siege was coming.
Back in his bedroom, Alex lay in bed, gently stroking his pet rat Doris. He had few other friends he could confide in, let alone friends who believed him. It was clear to the boy that the bad guys would most likely come for him tomorrow once everyone else had gone off to school or work. Much like the past few days, staying home with the chicken pox, he'd be all alone to face them. He couldn't afford to just hide somewhere, hoping for them to go away. He had to fight, even if the odds were against him.
He smiled to himself. He wasn't going to be afraid; he wasn't going to cry. Though they'd been such jerks to him, he loved his family dearly; he swore to protect the peaceful suburban life they shared.
True, the burglars were grown-ups; they were probably seasoned criminals as well. But this was his neighborhood and his house. If he prepared, he'd no doubt have the advantage. It wouldn't matter how old or how big the invaders. He'd beat them, and the house itself would serve as his fortress and his greatest weapon.
The boy decided then and there to wait until everyone else had gone to bed before enacting his plans.
[…]
Due to the renovations to the house that'd been going on for the past few weeks, Alex had a lot of resources to work with, a lot of materials from which to build traps for the coming battle. He opted to begin with the south side of the house and move up from there.
A cold wind blew all evening. The boy quietly snuck down to the basement. He grabbed a reel of fishing line from a tackle box, a bucket of flooring adhesive, and scavenged two poinsettia plants in ceramic Santa pots, carrying these objects over to the dumb waiter. He then ascended to the attic of the house.
The attic had two strategically placed windows overlooking the back gate which lead to the pool area. He placed one poinsettia Santa pot on each windowsill and tied a separate length of fishing line around each of them. As to where to tie the other ends, he knew just the right place, and promptly flung down the reels onto the path below.
He once again squeezed into the dumbwaiter. Now, he made for the ground floor of the house. He stepped out into the backyard with the flooring adhesive, walking to where the unused ends of the fishing lines had dropped – the southern entrance.
Past the pool area, the southern entrance to the backyard could only be reached by a semi-hidden path lined with an impassable boundary of conifers and a high concrete wall. The ground hadn't been cemented over yet, so the soil made for very uneven walking. Furthermore, it had only one gate at the far end of the trail overlooking the back alley. By all means, the claustrophobic passage looked like the perfect place to stash a few surprises. At the very least, he could slow down the progress of whoever was dumb enough to enter from here. So, with that in mind, Alex locked the lone gate and hung the open bucket of flooring adhesive on the door knob. When that was done, he took hold of the fishing line he'd dropped down earlier and constructed an improvised tripwire set-up by passing each line through chinks in the wall and tautly tying the ends to the trunk of two conifers. If anyone set these babies off, they'd certainly cause the poinsettias overhead to come crashing down. Wham!
Satisfied with this invention, the boy returned to the basement. The night was going to be a long one, and the following day even longer. There were more preparations to be made, many more different traps to build. He'd have to let his imagination run wild to keep his foes from second-guessing him.
[…]
Alice Ribbons climbed out of the tub, feeling refreshed. That was exactly what she needed. The warm bubble bath initially stung, making the woman gasp and her unhappy ass cheeks clench; in the long run though, it soothed her sore bottom enough to make her forget the day's events. She dried herself with a towel, stepped into her room, and sighed with relief. The nightmare was over, she thought. The obstacle between herself and her new life turned out to be none other than some innocuous little brat. She wasn't afraid; she wasn't even angry; she was too sure of the outcome for that. All they needed to do was break into the Pruitt house, finish off the twerp, and get the chip. He'd gotten lucky, but now that they knew what they were up against, he didn't stand a chance.
A full-length mirror stood in one corner of the room. Dropping her towel as she approached it, the classy cat burglar stopped just a few feet away to admire her reflection. Her own gaze was met by the icy blue eyes of her double. The beautiful brunette smiled. She felt immense pride at seeing this capable, modern woman before her. Not a hair was out of place. She simply smacked of elegance and power – a true goddess. And how was a snot-nosed kid, a little swine who enjoyed nothing better than to roll in the mud, to compete with a goddess? Alice cupped her medium-sized breasts then moved her hands down to caress her feminine abs. She had a pleasingly flat stomach and well-defined curves, the product of long years spent eating the right foods and doing the right exercises. The woman turned around. Her ass came into full view. She exhaled in relief once more, for the twin cheeks hadn't sustained any outwardly visible damage from her run-in with the pine cones. The redness had disappeared. Likewise, the slight ache in her sphincter little bothered her now. By all means, her ass was as big and round and shapely as ever; so much so that it'd give Jennifer Lopez and Kim Kardashian a run for their money.
Basking in the light of her own image, she rubbed her body with fragrant oils. She then proceeded to fetch a pair of undies from her luggage case, slipping the lacy jet black panties up her long, toned legs until they rested snugly around her hips. They barely covered her ass, and they had cost her a small fortune. Alice insisted however. She wasn't going to go for anything less than Victoria's Secret. On top of this, she wore a purple silken bath robe which terminated mid-thigh.
Preparations for the siege had progressed smoothly. Weapons, gadgets, outfits – all were complete. Earlier that night, she'd laid out a white ski-suit and fed all manner of electronic cables into it, reworking the clothing into both camouflage gear and communications outlet. She'd also constructed a homemade silencer for her pistol out of dissembled curling irons.
She didn't yet want to sleep though.
She eyed a file lying atop her dresser and took hold of it. She leafed through the stack of print-outs, through pages of data, until she stopped at an enlarged photograph of Alex Pruitt. She smirked. The boy in the photo had an impertinent expression, perhaps more so than most other children. It annoyed her, made her want to slap it off his face. Alice turned to the next photograph, recognizing the red-haired woman as the same woman she'd greeted that morning, the same woman who'd reminded her of how badly she lusted for another female's touch. By coincidence, she turned out also to be the kid's mother, Karen Pruitt. It greatly amused Alice to imagine how this woman would react upon seeing her son when they were through with him. In the thief's fantasies, the imagined devastation on such a pretty face proved much too delicious. She wished she could watch it in real-time.
Her wicked thoughts, though, were interrupted when Earl Unger barged into her room. With a nasty grin, he threw a large, unopened package in her direction. It fell on Alice's lap. She looked up at the large man, scowling.
"Have you no respect for privacy, Mr Unger?" she snapped.
"Mr Beaupre says you might need a pair of those," Unger wheezed, a stupid chuckle caught deep in his throat. "There won't be any bathroom breaks where we're going, princess."
"Excuse me?"
"No bathroom breaks, no going off to the little girl's room. You're not exactly one of the guys. No one expects you to hold it in."
"What are you talking abou – ?!" Alice couldn't finish her sentence. No sooner had she brought the package up close to her face did her eyes widen. Her cheeks flushed bright crimson and her lower jaw fell. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was a package of XL-sized disposable adult diapers!
Unger burst into guffaws of laughter.
"How dare you!" Alice cried, flinging the package across the room.
"It wasn't my idea, I swear! Besides, we're all very concerned about you. Who knows? You might even have a little accident. I know it's probably just a little discomfort for someone like you. But, don't you want to be prepared?"
"Get out!"
Unger had gone off into the corridor, but she could still hear the faint echoes of his laughter. It was another joke, utterly devoid of humor. And yet, all of a sudden, Alice felt sick. She didn't need diapers! She was, after all, a strong, independent woman in full control of the situation. She was convinced of that. Moreover, she was convinced that tomorrow would only reinforce everything she'd ever known about herself. The voluptuous thief took hold of the Pruitt files again. She pulled out a lighter from the drawer and set the photographs aflame over a cigarette dish, watching as every member of the Pruitt household burned, their happy countenances turning into black indistinguishable remnants, curled upon themselves. She then shut the lights and jumped into bed, impatient for the break of dawn. She'd make them all pay, starting with that silly little brat!