The roof dropped off for two stories at the gutter, a mere foot and a half from the window. He stepped through the window and onto the tiny section of steep roof. As carefully as possible, he moved along the face of the gable until he reached the corner. Then he began crawling toward the roof top.

The roof was gray heavy composite shingle that looked much like slate. It was hard on the skin and slick from a light coating of moss. He heard nothing from below. The silence was anything but comforting. Then the window slid open and the intruders’ voices became suddenly audible.

“There’s no way out,” one said. “They’d have told us.”

“I think he went out on the roof,” said the other.

Ben recognized neither voice.

“He’s no athlete,” said the first. “It’s practically straight up.”

Ben climbed as quietly as he could, trying not to look down at the lawn and stone work far below.

“I don’t see anything.” The second one again. “It’s steeper than hell.”

Ben could see nothing of them but he could tell from the sound of the voice that the second man had stuck his head out the window. He crested the peak.

He had to escape. He looked around. There was the giant fir that grew up the two stories and a bit over the roof. Perhaps the upper most branches would support him. Then his eye gauged the distance and he realized he’d need to be a monkey or a brave teenager.

There were gables on this side of the building as well. He slithered down the roof, but after having nearly rounded the gable he heard the window open. A man’s head appeared at the corner of the gable. Even with the nylon stocking the man’s hair appeared short. From his arms Ben could tell that he was olive-skinned, with black hair to match. In his hand he held an ugly-looking pistol.

“Come on in before you hurt yourself,” the man said.

Ben didn’t respond.

“If you don’t cooperate,” the man said, coming closer, “we’ll kill you pure and simple.”

 GO TO CHAPTER 2