One could never be too careful. Mark Abbott looked cautiously through the crack in the fence while Rita stood quietly by his side. There wasn’t much to see, just the shadowed outline of the building across the street and the weed filled lot next to it. In the limited space of his vision he could see no sign of movement. His eyes started to blur with the intensity of his stare and pulling his head back, Mark blinked several times to clear his sight. He reached for Rita’s hand and headed for the break in the fence.
“It looks safe to cross,” he said. “but be quiet in case I’ve missed something.”
“I’ve done this before, remember?” Rita said, ”I know what I’m doing, maybe even better than you.”
Mark and Rita went into a crouch and kept to the shadows as they crept slowly down the street. They stopped often to look and listen; when they heard and saw nothing, determined it was safe to advance. Mark held Rita’s hand firmly as they rounded the corner of the building.
“Are you okay?” Mark asked. Tension was high and it was difficult to breathe normally. One wrong move and they could both end up dead.
“Mark,” Rita whispered, tugging her hand loose, “did you see that? Over there, at the end of the building. I thought I saw a door open”
Mark squinted his eyes and stared at the spot but could see nothing, least of all a door. Reaching back for Rita’s hand, Mark felt only open space. Panic caused him to jerk around only to find no one there. He didn’t dare call her name. His eyes frantically searched the darkness around him. Nothing moved. There was only the slight sound of the breeze as it gently flowed through the weed filled lot next to the building. Mark’s panic increased, immobilizing him. Where was she? Rita was too savvy to have been caught unaware. Besides, there was no place for her to go.
Taking a deep breath, Mark ordered his mind to function as he continued to scan the darkness that surrounded him. He realized he didn’t know Rita that well, not even her last name.
***
When Mark had first seen Rita she was in danger from a gang of skinheads. As an investigative reporter, he had been trying to expose this particular group. So far they had eluded him at every turn and he was all too aware of his life expectancy if he was caught.
Mark watched as Rita tried to escape. His car was there with the passenger door open when she rounded the corner. As she jumped in, Mark sped away. It was too close for comfort and the two of them had been in hiding for the past three days.
Rita was on the small side and her nationality was hard to determine. She was definitely not one of the pure white race and it was also hard to gauge her age. One thing for sure though, Rita was one street-smart woman. Mark had been around the block a few times himself. Actually more times than he wanted to remember. He was feeling his age and had already determined this would be his last exposé. It was time to let the younger reporters take over. He needed to uncover the true leaders of the compound; the upstanding citizens who wanted to keep their involvement secret. Only then could he retire in good faith.
The kind of hate generated by this particular group was dangerous and spread all too rapidly. The intensity of the skinheads caused a cold dread to fill Mark’s mind. There was no way to reason with these people, so sure of their righteousness and their ability to influence others. Intimidation and violence were the methods used to obtain their goals but what bothered Mark the most was the sincerity of the men and women living at the compound. Their dedication was complete. But the unknown leaders were the most dangerous and their motives were power and greed. They were the ones he was trying to bring down.
Anyone like Rita, not of the pure white race, was at risk of being beaten or killed and purity included morals as well. The wrath of God was the byword for the beliefs of the group.
Rita had lived most of her life as an outcast, learning to survive at an early age. Mark discovered she also knew who the town leaders of the skinheads were. Knowledge wasn’t enough though; Mark would need proof that would stand up in court and Rita was more than willing to help him obtain it. That’s why they were at this building tonight.
***
Concerned for Rita’s safety, Mark cautiously felt along the side of the building and adrenaline was high as the silence surrounded him. Where was the door Rita claimed to have seen? She could not have just disappeared from sight. Fear raced through Mark as he tried to remain calm. This wasn’t a time to panic. As he moved back a few feet, hands on the side of the building, the feel changed. There was a door and it was opened a crack. Slowly Mark pushed it open wider. The darkness was complete and there was no sound. He hesitated to enter, not knowing who or what was inside.
“Rita?” He whispered. There was no answer. As he slipped through the partially open door, Mark stood still, trying to discern any sign of another person. Nothing.
“Rita” he whispered again. Without warning his arm was touched and he felt a tremendous relief as he realized she was beside him. Her hand slid into his and she guided him across the room she knew so well. Since she didn’t need any light to show the way, Rita led Mark across the room, through another door and up some steep stairs. The darkness and silence disoriented him and all could do was trust where Rita was leading him.
At the top of the stairs a door opened onto the roof and when they stepped into the night Mark could see the shadowy forms of several men.
“I’m so sorry,” Rita released Mark’s hand. “I had no choice”
The shadows surrounded him and the needle found it’s way through the sleeve of the jacket into Mark’s arm. The last thought he had as he felt himself falling from the roof was of Rita’s betrayal and that he had not been careful enough.