Once he was safely up the roof, down the hall and safely home Amos unpacked his bag. Jim had helped him select some dark blue tactical pants, a black bomber jacket and some lightweight but warm back t-shirts and pull overs. The clothing was well made but none of it was fancy, no labels or extra detailing. “It’s tough, it will last, and it dries out real quick” Jim had told him in the shop “plus it don’t rip or tear easily and it’s none too dear either.” Amos liked the clothing and even more when he tried it on with the black knit beanie and the new black backpack.

  As he gazed in the bathroom mirror Amos looked and felt much older than a fourteen-year-old. He squared his shoulders and tilted his jaw and narrowed his gaze at his reflection in the mirror.

  After a simple meal and a quick wait and listen at the door Amos slipped out onto the roof top area. He liked coming here, not only was it his secret exit to and from the building but there were very few windows that looked down on this rooftop and the ones that did were farther away, so it felt fairly private up here.

  He took the baton in his hand and spent more than an hour practicing pulling it out and swinging at imaginary targets in a smooth motion. After a while he had moved on to an old can and some bottles that he found around the roof, and he was pleased to see that his aim and precision was mostly true to his intent. The bottles shattered with a crack and a burst of glass shards, and the tin cans crumpled and flew in a smooth arc away from the baton. Soon his arm and shoulder were getting stiff so he put away the baton and headed back inside.

  There was a loud commotion down the hall that got his attention as soon as he climbed through the stairwell window. Someone was yelling in the hallway, and they were pretty angry from the sounds of it. Amos opened the stairwell door a crack and looked down the hall.

  He could not see much but he could see that familiar white tank top at the end of the hall and he heard Filthy Phil shouting at someone at full volume “I don’t know who was going into your apartment, it was no me, you don’t accuse me, I have much better things to do than to be the sneak.” This worried Amos, who was Mr. Phil talking to, was it Ms. Murphy? Amos wanted to open the door further to see who it was but did not dare attract more attention. Looking down he saw that there was a big gap beneath the door for airflow into the hallway so he dropped to his side and positioned his right eye at the opening below the door.

  The person Mr. Phil was yelling at was Mrs. Garcia, she was an older Latin lady from the 3rd floor who always wore floral print dresses and told people she liked to call her Auntie Tia. “I no trust you” she said to Mr. Phil while wagging a short finger back and forth in front of his face. “We see you always at someone’s door, either knocking or coming in or out.” “You’ve got no business in our homes so stay out.”

  The short woman turned away from Filthy Phil and stomped off with her small legs and feet making an impressive amount of noise as she did so. As she reached the other end of the hallway, she called out over her shoulder “we are watching you, all the time now, all the time.” Mr. Phil followed after her and soon the hallway was quiet again. After a few minutes Amos slipped down the hall and into his apartment, not quite sure what to make of what he had just heard.

  The next few days were uneventful. Amos practiced with his baton and tried out some of the other gear he had purchased from Holdens shop. He had a small, foldable grappling hook and a good length of strong nylon rope. Out on the rooftop Amos practiced throwing and securing the hook and then climbing the rope up after it. He decided to carry in his new backpack a tactical flashlight and headlamp, black gloves and a good multi-tool with all kinds of attachments that were just big enough to be effective.

  Inside his apartment it was quite different. With little to do he was often bored so he usually sat at the window and watched who came and went from the building. Over a few days he noticed that Filthy Phil was often spending lots of time outside doing some type of maintenance task in front of the building. Amos wondered to himself. He looked for a pattern, but it was hard to figure out what triggered Mr. Phil to suddenly leave or where he went when he did.

  When Amos saw Old Man Dan shuffle out the front door the next day, he also noticed that Mr. Phil quickly went in through the front door. He moved so hastily that he just tossed his old rake on the small, uneven patch of grass that was the front lawn. Acting on a hunch as well as from a mounting sense of boredom Amos decided to enter the vents and crawl down to old Man Dan’s apartment to see if this is where Mr. Phil was headed. This time he was much better prepared as he had purchased knees pads and a dust mask from the surplus store in the hopes of making his next foray into the vents more comfortable.

  These items along with his gloves and headlamp made it much easier to move quietly through the vents. Amos counted off the branches along the main ductwork in his head until he came to old man Dan’s vent.

  He placed the grappling hook firmly on the corner of the intersecting ductwork and tested the rope. It held tight so he began down the smaller shaft with rope in hand. Amos told himself as he softly crawled towards the grill at the end. He had learned to keep his weight along the edges of the vent to avoid any loud bangs, and he was starting to feel as graceful and stealthy as a cat.

  Feeling pretty pleased with his progress, Amos got to the end of the vent and holding his breath he peered down through the grill. The apartment was still and silent. The furniture and decor looked tired and worn and the apartment had that sad lonesome feeling that a home radiates when just one person lives there for a long time. There were unwashed dishes sitting on the coffee table and a pile of laundry in a basket either waiting to be folded or washed, Amos could not tell from his vantage point.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  He decided to start backing up down the vent when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. The sound was deliberate and quiet as if someone was taking great care in walking. Amos paused and waited and then he saw the deadbolt knob on the door slowly flip to the side and then the door was pushed open.

  Amos watched, holding his breath carefully and as soon as the door had opened far enough he saw Mr. Phil stepping into the apartment. thought Amos

  He watched as Mr. Phil went through the kitchen efficiently , taking a long drink from a small glass bottle on the counter and then smacking his lips and replacing the cap. Amos slowly shook his head in disgust and continued to watch his old landlord ransack the apartment.

  thought Amos as he watched Mr. Phil carefully and methodically go through each drawer. Once Mr. Phil got to a small console table in the living room, he opened the drawer and started pulling out the contents and inspecting them. Suddenly Amos froze and bit back what would have been quite a loud gasp. Filthy Phil has pulled out something, looked at it for a long time and then inexplicably to Amos, put it back again. Amos just starred, what he had seen, it could change his life and now he knew he had to have it.

  He forced himself to wait three long minutes after Mr. Phil had finished going through the apartment and taking what he wanted from the drawers. When he left, he was eating a banana that he had stolen from the counter. Amos wanted to laugh, he had always seen his landlord as a big dumb gorilla and here was the proof! Watching him walk away with a banana shoved in his mouth was the only funny thing he had seen in months, and he allowed himself a small smile.

  Getting down from the vent and into the apartment was easier than the first time he did it now that he had his hook and rope. With much less noise and effort Amos was soon standing in front of the console. He opened the drawer and reached in and felt around inside. As soon as he touched it he felt a chill and then he eased it out as if it might bite him at any moment.

  Both the weight and smell of it confirmed to him that this was the real deal. A surge of guilt hit Amos as he held it carefully in both hands. Amos had not wanted to steal anything from Old Man Dan but he had changed his mind.Amos thought as he stowed his treasure in his bag.

  Amos quickly tidied up after his visit, being careful to wash down all of his dusty shoeprints. With his gloves and mask, he was now neither afraid of leaving fingerprints or getting caught in a coughing fit. The dust clinging to his legs and feet was another matter and would be a big problem when coming and going from the duct work. It was extremely fortunate for Amos that his first trip in Ms. Murphy’s apartment had not been messy enough to get caught. He was a bit better at getting back into the vent and pulling the grill up after him. The rope and the grappling hook he had purchased had made all of this so much easier to do.

  Back in his apartment he took out his prize and inspected it. It was an older style revolver with a black body and drum, a faded wooden grip with nicks and gouges and a silver hammer and trigger. He carefully inspected the gun for a few minutes before he figured out how to open the cylinder.

  He saw with both a bit of relief as well as disappointment that the gun was unloaded, all five chambers were empty. Once he knew that he became much more confident with the gun and practiced pointing it and shooting at imaginary attackers lurking in all corners. Spinning the chamber of the revolver produced a satisfying “click, click, click” as each chamber cycled though the firing position. Amos imagined the power and strength he could wield with this revolver but then doubts crept into his thoughts.

  The uncertainty of it all spiraled through his head, and he lowered the gun and set it on the table. In the end, he decided that he would only use the gun as a last resort, he would learn how to handle it and keep it safe but if it came down to having to use it to stay alive then he would have no choice. he told himself and for this he only had one good option, it was a longshot but he was hopeful that it might just work out.

  After much deliberation he decided to keep the gun with him when he went to get the bullets, at least this way he could get the correct type if he could get them at all. He stowed it in one of his cargo pockets on the side of his pants. This way he figured, if anyone stole his backpack then at least he would still have the gun.

  On the way to Holden’s Ammo and Surplus Amos kept a careful watch of everyone around him, constantly turning and looking back and making sure to keep a wide distance between himself and any open streets. thought Amos as he opened the door and stepped into the confines on the shop as the bells jangled above.

  The older man was seated in his usual spot behind the counter, this time peering at him over a wrinkled and dog-eared magazine. Once Jim recognized him a warm smile appeared on his face and he stood up to greet Amos.

  “Back so soon?” “Never mind, never mind, it is good to see you Amos, good to see you indeed.” As Amos approached the counter he smiled back, he recognized the genuine affection in Jim’s voice and he was glad to hear it. “Yes, nice to see you too sir” said Amos “I came back because I need to buy something that I think I can only get here……if you are willing to sell it to me.”

  The smile on Jim’s face faded away as he raised his eyebrows and deepened the lines on his forehead with the beginning of a frown. “What is that exactly then?” he asked and then waited with a slightly curious expression as Amos fished into his pocket and pulled out the Smith and Wesson revolver.

  “Ah-yuh, that’s a wicked tool for a boy of your age to be haulin about.” Jim looked at the revolver Amos had laid on the counter and then looked up at Amos, “how’d you come across this and why do you carry it?” Before Amos could speak Jim went on after glancing closely at the revolver before him “I guess you’re looking for bullets for this, that’s why you’re here is it now?”