Page 36 of Claimed
His smile was all the reward she could have asked for. “You have climbing equipment?”
“Packed it in case. I assume you have what you need here as well.”
He nodded. “Packed it in case.”
Within the hour they were decked out like any of a thousand Alaçati tourists that morning—hiking shoes, tee shirts and cargo pants, packs slung over their back that could carry anything from sandwiches to maps. In their case, it carried rope and carabiners and soft-soled shoes. They didn’t expect to run into any cliffs, but it was always good to be prepared.
The walk to the edge of the city was short, and mostly uphill. It was good to get out, to feel the sun on her face while she was moving, Nicki thought. She’d let Stefan set the pace, but he hadn’t slowed appreciably for her, she was certain. Her energy was high, and she’d eaten and consumed enough water. She’d be fine today.
“According to the squatters, that’s the asylum, directly behind me,” Stefan said. He had a tourist map and was facing the city, while the thick, ugly building rose up from the cliff. “On the map it’s indicated as a warehouse. Possibly was at one time. Not too difficult to convert that into a makeshift hospital or holding tank, particularly if it’s broken up into small rooms.”
“Not too easy for anyone to get out of either,” Nicki said. She squinted up as if trying to gauge how much higher they would climb the ridge. “No windows at all on this side—which is odd, since it’s the side with the view. Holds with the warehouse idea.”
“Agreed. I think we’re looking at a usage of convenience, not intended as a long-term solution. Then again, they’ve been using it for a year.”
“Must have proven very convenient,” Nicki said. “Either way, we’re not getting in on this side. Let’s move around and see how protected it is.”
They continued up the street. At this height, in this particular section of the city, the quaintness of Alaçati was less in evidence. They appeared to be in an industrial area that hadn’t quite been reached by the touch of gentrification. That development was coming though—there were indications all around. Most of the houses were empty and bore official placards indicating likely demolition. Construction equipment grew more prevalent the further up they went, and workers too in patches. No one seemed to care they were there, however. At the top of the ridgeline, the countryside spilled into more parklands. So, they could easily be heading in that direction.
The warehouse loomed to their right as they continued mounting the hill, separated from the street by a thick patch of vegetation and a relatively new fence that abutted the asphalt.
“Electrified?” Stefan wondered aloud.
“Nope,” Niki said.
“You sure?”
“Hey, I grew up in Indiana. I know things.” She reached down and ripped off a blade of grass. She laid the strand against the wire, and touched the tip of the grass section. “See?” She grinned. “Also, this is a new fence. Way newer than the building. Maybe see if there’s a tag on it from the builder, if we need to get in legitimately?”
“Agreed.”
They walked up the street a further distance, then an intersection opened in front of them. Up was definitely the direction of the park, but the ruins were helpfully on the other side of the warehouse, and a huge swath of trees and vegetation had been cleared out, revealing a hint of the excavation beyond. More of the same fence that circled the warehouse snaked in front of the excavation site, but there was still plenty to see. It was easy to justify them altering course to check out the site. If they got caught, even by Omir, it wouldn’t be a big deal—Nicki didn’t have her camera.
“No name on the fence,” she said as they walked along the perimeter. “And the warehouse isn’t exactly in good shape.”
“They could say they’re fencing it for public protection until it can be torn down or renovated in connection with the site. Or they could say nothing at all.” Stefan’s tone was distracted as he surveyed the building, scanning its roofline as they walked. “This isn’t America.”
“Thanks for the update. At least they have a truck intake. So someone’s going in and out.”
The fence broke into a wide gate. They paused to peer in, not stopping long enough to draw attention. The sound of construction at the ruins site was clearly audible, but the warehouse was silent, the huge truck bays shut. The doors on the bays were newer, however, and the locks were as well.
“These guys are up on their security.”
“No cameras though.” Stefan moved past the opening, his attention squarely on the excavation site. “Fence isn’t wired, no closed-circuit monitoring. This isn’t meant to be a permanent holding cell. Probably squalid inside—I’d be surprised if the plumbing or the electricity worked. Couldn’t afford anyone to see the lights. Windows are only on the upper floors, and then not many.”
Nicki made a face. “No plumbing? And they have a bunch of workers stashed in there, and maybe animals too? No way someone wouldn’t eventually notice that.”
“Fair point,” Stefan said. “There’d have to be a waste dump close by.” He glanced over her shoulder. Between the warehouse and the excavation site there was another thick knot of foliage, bristling with jungle-level brush and trees and vines. A ditch that looked to be cut by natural forces a long time ago, snaked from the road through the trees, heading downslope. “Can you remember what was on the other side of this ridge? To the right of the warehouse as we faced it from below?”
Nicki tilted her head. “Trees, I think. There was a sheer wall directly beneath the warehouse, but the ridge sort of ducked in at that point and it was all vegetation. No houses beneath the jungle growth for another hundred yards, maybe, and then those started up again.”
She nodded, thinking it through. “Plenty of land to dump or bury waste, if needed. Trash anyway. Let’s say there are plumbing facilities—that’s one thing. But it’s not as if they can truck out typical garbage without someone noticing. And again, definitely not animal waste.”
She peered back up the street. There were workers in hard hats at the excavation site, but the fence angled in enough that they weren’t directly in their sightline. If anyone happened to turn the corner, though…
Meh. That wasn’t likely. “Up and over,” she announced and as Stefan turned to her, she hit the fence. It was a standard interlocking wire fence with a metal crossbeam at the top—no razor wire, importantly—and she was over it in less than thirty seconds, Stefan right behind her.
“Ditch,” he directed and she headed that way. It’d be the least clogged with vegetation, and chances were good that it’d find its way down.