Chapter 10 – An Inside Job

The cool night air wrapped around every inch of his body, the dilapidated building cried out with creaks and groans of age as he placed hand over hand on the sills of windows that had long seen better days. Grasping at a thin wooden edge, the dark figure hoisted one leg upwards and rested his bare foot on it to take what little weight his body had off of his arms. Quickly checking that he was balanced with a quick look down to the late night streets of Liverpool, he took one hand off of the edge and slowly extended his claws. Reaching over to the glazed pane of glass, he brushed the dust off and made contact with his needle-sharp nail. He scored a quick circle into the surface without making a single sound, and then filled it with a small smiling face. He withdrew his hand slightly, paused, and then quickly brought it down to his side. Leaning off of the sill to admire his handiwork, he momentarily lost his balance and had to make a rather ungainly grab towards the wall to keep from falling from his precarious perch high above the English streets. Sighing in relief as soon as he regained his place, he moved a hand above the sill and continued his way to the top of the building.

He made it several more feet without notable incident, but ran into a bit of an obstacle as he was nearing the eve of the roof; a large neon marquee that looked like it dated back to the fifties jetted out from the side of the building, blocking his way. Placing the majority of his weight on his arms, he looked at first left, and then to the right. Seeing no way around it, he slowly reached a hand up to it and placed it gingerly on the rusting edge of the sign. Making sure he had a firm grasp, he brought his right hand up and joined it opposite his left making carefully sure not to latch onto the aged glass tubes that were bolted to the front and back of the sign.

He mumbled something under his breath, but it was lost to a breeze that passed from his left, leaving his chilled body in its wake. Sighing once, he reaffirmed his grasp on the bottom of the sign, and then pushed off with his feet so that he was dangling by his arms from the edge of the sign. Constricting his midriff, he was able to start swinging back and forth, forwards and backwards, which elicited some unwanted groans of strain from the aged metal fixture. With one final heave, he let go with his right arm and, using his newly gained momentum from swinging, launched himself upwards to grab onto a crack off to the right of the sign.

As soon as his hand made contact with the wall, the moorings of the sign broke clean and rent the air around it with a splitting crack. Newly freed from its prison on the wall, the entire apparatus plummeted downwards to the (thankfully) deserted streets far below. Left hanging by a single claw, the silhouetted figure reached quickly upwards and cemented his free hand into the crack and vaulted himself upwards onto the roof of the building. Landing silently, yet ungracefully on the flat, dusty roof of the building, he dropped into a crouch to catch his breath. Steeling his eyes, he looked out over the darkened horizon. After several seconds of silent investigation, he locked his eyes onto an illuminated sign in the distance.

Dropping a hand into his breast pocket, he pulled out a small slip of paper with almost illegible handwriting scribbled into the center of it;

'West Park Apartments 122'

Lowering his eyes momentarily to the paper, he turned it over in his hand and inspected the left-most lower corner; the number '13', a signature of sorts, was written roughly, but plainly enough to read without much issue.

He lifted his eyebrows quickly, and then reset them back to their normal position. Bringing his eyes back upwards to make a mental note of the sign's location, he stood up and began to run towards the edge of the building. Planting his foot on the raised edge of the roof, he leaped off of the edge and disappeared into the inky blackness. He left no trace of his presence, save for a small smiling face drawn into the dust of the smooth, concreted roof.

The chill of the night air was multiplied tenfold against his fur as he plummeted downwards towards the streets. Snapping his arms into a folded position against his body, he braced himself and fell, upright, into the putrid contents of a large dumpster. Disappearing from sight for a few seconds, he emerged from the belly of the receptacle covered in bits and pieces of refuse.

Without so much as changing his expression, he placed a hand on the edge of the dumpster and hauled himself out. Landing with a squelch on the darkened alley path, he reached to the lower hem of his shirt, and then pulled upwards lifting it cleanly off. Discarding it into the dumpster he had recently used as a landing pad, he reached down and began to unbutton his pants. Being the zipperless kind, they were relatively easy to step out of, and they, too, were placed into the dumpster.

Now completely naked, he looked around the base of the dumpster. Squinting his eyes, he finally found what he was searching for; a small piece of glass that could be used as a mirror. Picking it up with a deft flick of his wrist, he held it up in a way that it reflected moonlight onto his face, causing a small glint of gold to emit from his left canine tooth. Inspecting his spotted features in his dim reflection, the cheetah reached up and smoothed his disheveled whiskers along the edge of his face. Lowering the angle of the mirror, he gave himself a quick once-over to make sure that no unsightly pieces of trash had managed to find their way onto his pelt. Satisfied with what he saw, he tossed the glass fragment into the dumpster and began to walk out of the alley, yet stopped before getting to the sidewalk. Remembering that he was in a state that the general public would find unsuitable, he leaned his head out and checked to see that no one was on the street. Sighing inwardly with relief at not seeing a soul, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and made his way in the general direction of the sign that he had seen earlier, making especially sure to avoid the lights of streetlamps should someone decide to venture outside. At 12:30 a.m., it was unlikely that this would happen, but it was still a possibility.

20 frigid minutes later, the cheetah arrived at the sign, and the apartments that it indicated. Surveying the numbers on the sides of the building quickly, he located the one that he was seeking and made his way towards it. Reaching the base of the building, he placed his hand on the cool stone and looked up. Knowing that the front door was probably a very bad idea, he let his eyes roll over the rough wall and made notes of all the cracks, spikes, signs, moorings, and anything and everything else that could be used as a potential handhold to reach the window 2 stories above him. Letting his hand off of the wall, he cracked his knuckles and backed up enough to get a short running start. Starting forwards, he bounded up the wall and strategically placed his hands and feet in the locations that he had noted earlier, making special care to keep his body at a distance from the wall to prevent scraping his exposed, more sensitive areas. Arriving at the sill of the window in mere seconds, he gently grasped the edge of the window and pulled upwards. Much to his delight (it took so long to cut glass with claws, and his were in much need of a sharpening as it were) the window lifted smoothly and without uttering a single sound. Peeking inside, he made note of the contents of the room, paying special attention to the 2 figures who appeared to be sleeping in the bed on the right side. Cocking his head to the side, he tried to sift through the darkness to identify them.

'Raccoon and fox… expected…' he thought to himself. Hoisting himself inside, he landed softly into the room and immediately dropped into a crouch. He padded forwards as silently as possible, trying to keep from alerting the two in the bed. Halfway across the room, he froze when he heard movement from the bed to his side. Looking quickly over, he saw the raccoon begin to shiver. Feeling a breeze on his tail, he dropped to all fours and rolled under the bed to avoid possible detection.

Several uneventful seconds passed, and then the entire frame of the bed began to creak, sending a shower of dust to land on his body. Without warning, a pair of feet appeared from the edge of the bed, and began to walk to the window that, unbeknownst to the raccoon, had been opened only moments earlier.

"What is it, Cooper?" came a sleepy sounding voice from the top of the bed. Closing his eyes and perking his ears, the cheetah listened. A gentle click came from across the room, followed by a sigh.

"Must've left the window open, don't worry about it," came the response of the equally sleepy sounding raccoon.

The bed began to creak again, causing the cheetah to reopen his eyes. Unable to see anyone standing in the room, he guessed that the raccoon had gotten back into bed.

Several minutes of silence passed before the cheetah was confident enough that the bed's occupants were back asleep. Slowly, he edged himself out from beneath. Positioning himself back into a low crouch, he made his way to the door and slipped out of the room without a single sound.

A sizable hallway greeted him on the other side of the door, and he was momentarily torn as to which direction to go. Deciding to follow his gut, he began to make his way left and towards the living room, and towards the sound of gentle snoring. Peeking out of the hallway, he immediately spotted what he was looking for; an old bat seated upright in an overstuffed chair in the corner. Locking eyes with the aging figure, he began to walk towards him, being careful not to wake the hippo that was asleep on the couch.

"Glad you could make it, Aero," voiced the bat in what amounted to a low whisper. "I was beginning to think that you had not received my note."

Stopping directly in front of Luc, he bowed his head quickly. "Too many patrols on the roofs of the buildings in this damned city; I had to take an alternate route."

"Doesn't matter how you got here, I'm just glad you made it. Now, before I introduce you to the others, let's get you some clothes…"

A/N: Well, that certainly took a while. Who would have thought that developing a video game could take so much free time away from somebody? :D I really am sorry that it once again took so long for a chapter to come out, but I feel the want to write welling back up inside of me. I think a break was exactly what I need to get back into the swing of things. Expect the chapters to start coming out like they did last year; one every few days or so, because I have the entire story planned out! And remember, I am writing this story for YOU! That's right, YOU who are reading this right now! Where I am it is midnight, but I just had to finish this chapter for you guys. So, until next time, enjoy your collective lives : )

-Jake