Feather Dark

Chapter 6

Leigh

"Golf, anyone?" said Pop, flipping the indicator. He pulled the Jeep up to a wrought iron gate surrounded by fountains. A security guard stepped out from the camouflaged gate house and inspected us carefully.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he spoke in a serious tone. "Welcome to Riverwoods Country Club Estate. How may I help you?"

"I'm Ted York. 519 is expecting me."

Nodding, the guard consulted his clipboard and made a furtive call into his radio. Just as pangs of worry began shooting across my chest, he pointed a clicker at the gates and they slowly swung open. "Up to the third right, 519 is on the left. Have a good night, gentlemen."

"Thank you, sir," called Pop, unruffled as always. He eased us inside the gates and they clanged shut behind us. We drove at the recommended speed limit, which was about as fast as you could roll down the road inside a sleeping bag, and I took a good look at the estate.

The golf course meandered around us and the cobblestone road weaved around incredible mansions, some of them four and five stories high. Each of them was surrounded by high concrete walls with security cameras scanning back and forth. High on the hill ahead of us, I spotted the country club, with people sitting at small tables under twinkly lights. When we turned down our directed street, the mansions grew sparser, until we pulled up at 519, the last house around a bend.

Tired from the hours of driving, Noah and I had been mostly silent. At the sight of the five storey palace, complete with turrets and signs warning of guard dogs, I burst out, "Well, this is not exactly what I thought of when you said, 'Squadron safe house.'"

Noah dismissed me. "This is a perfect location for the Squadron. Double guarded, no close neighbours, and the privacy only exclusivity can bring. Backing onto the golf course means people can take flight at night without being seen and it's large enough to house a dozen people comfortably. It doesn't get much 'safer' than this."

"Pop, will you please tell Noah, if he insists on sounding like a narrator, he should probably also say things like, 'It was a dark and stormy night...'"

"But it isn't storming," said Noah, perplexed.

"Leigh..." Pop warned. He rolled down his window and typed a code into the small keypad at the mansion gate.

After a series of beeps, a voice answered. "Yes?"

"This is Ted."

The gate rolled open without further comment. I spotted a German Shepherd running up towards us, but a whistle sounded and the dog promptly sat and watched us park at the front entrance. The gardens and fountains were perfectly cared for, but I only had eyes for the tall, dark figure waiting for us at the front door.

We stepped out of the car and Pop led the way up the marble stairs. Noah and I tagged behind like little kids, suddenly shy.

"Sentinel," said Pop, delighted. "Good to see you again, my friend!"

Pop shook hands with the tallest, most intimidating person I'd ever seen in my life. Sentinel's giant hand engulfed Pop's, and his ebony skin shone in the lights from the house. He spoke in a voice like a bass line rolled in gravel. "Ted. Welcome."

The giant turned to us, and I found myself wondering if he used some sort of wax on his bald head because it was so glossy, I could almost see the night clouds reflected in its surface. I felt a hysterical giggle rolling up, but before I could embarrass myself completely, Sentinel flapped his wings open and distracted me. This man had no hair: he also had no feathers.