Chapter 127: The Great Potato Heist

Chapter 127: The Great Potato Heist

***Chase Rogers****

“Come on, man, I’ve been casing this joint out for days, it’s just one old man. No helpers, no powers, just a damn dump truck filled to the brim with potatoes.” Dan said, nudging Chase with his elbow. “He fills the thing over the course of the day then goes to bed and moves it out the next morning, transporting it to some other farmer for some goddamn reason. Do you know how much that truck is worth!? It might as well be filled with gold.”

Chase could use a truck filled with gold.

“So what do we do?”

“lockpick the front door, if this guy is anything like ninety nine percent of the world, his keys will be right next to the door on a shelf or something. We grab the keys and take off in the truck before he knows what happened. We drive the truck back to the city and Steve pays us a cool hundred grand.”

“What if the key’s not in the front entrance?” Chase asked.

“Well, then we ask nicely,” Dan said, hefting an iron pipe.

Chase was about to voice concern over beating on an old man, but then again...He hadn’t eaten in three days.The initial instance of this chapter being available happened at N0v3l.Bin.

“You think Steve will let us take some of the potatoes?” Chase asked, his stomach twisting at the mere thought of food.

“As much as we can carry,” Dan said.

That could last weeks!

“Alright, I’m in.” Chase said, peeking over the hedge and glancing at the quaint little farmhouse. The living room light clicked off, followed shortly by the small second story room turning on as the old man retired to the second floor.

“Looks like he’s going to bed.” Chase said, ducking back behind the foliage.

“Once the light’s off, let’s give it half an hour, then head in.” Dan said.

Chase nodded, and the two of them waited. In a moment, the light turned off, and they set a silent alarm.

It was a warm night, and the time passed with quickly, despite the constant chirping of insects and nature.

Having grown up in the safe grey concrete of Franklin City, nature made Chase feel like he was walking through a minefield. A single ant stepped on carelessly might explode into a ravenous, man-eating monster. Not to mention all the ravenous, man-eating monsters that already stalked the edges of the cities.

The massive guns at the corners of the farm didn’t really make him feel a whole lot better, either. Farmers were crazy.

Please let the keys be in the entryway, Chase thought a silent prayer before the two of them began stalking toward the door.

The coast was clear, and they could smell the unfamiliar scent of turned earth as they crept closer, their hearts pounding harder and harder the closer they got to the front door.

Finally they got to the front porch, which let out a quiet squeak when they arrived. Quiet, but in the still night air it sounded like a banshee’s wail.

The two men froze, waiting for the farmer to grab his shotgun and start blasting.

Nothing.

“Okay, get to it,” Dan whispered, motioning to the door. Chase knelt down and took the lockpicks out of his pocket and began assaulting the doorknob.

He’d developed the skill as a survival tool on the streets of Franklin City, and if he hadn’t Chase was fairly certain he would be dead or in prison. It opened up opportunities that might not have come his way otherwise. Case in point: it didn’t take two men to drive a truck. Dan had brought him along specifically to break in, and after they got the keys, he wouldn’t need him anymore.

Kneeling beside the doorknob, Chase had an excellent view of the lump in Dan’s jacket concealing his pistol.

When is he going to use that on me? Chase thought.

“What are you zoning out for?” Dan demanded quietly.

“Nothing, lemme just check something.” Chase whispered back, reaching up and testing the doorknob.

The door swung open with a soft click, allowing a wave of scents to waft past them from inside. Smells that were completely foreign to the hungry youths: old wood, old books, newspapers...and food.

Chase’s starvation-heightened senses could make out cheese, meat, potatoes, spices...his stomach did a flip inside him and demanded that he ignored the keys and raid the farmer’s fridge.

“It was unlocked the whole time?” Dan demanded quietly as the door swung open. “The hell did I even need you for, huh?” his hand twitched minutely toward his gun, and at that moment, Chase knew Dan wasn’t planning on sharing, neither the cash nor the food.

“The truck might still be locked up.” Chase whispered, his adrenaline singing in his veins.

“I know, help me look for the keys.” Dan whispered back.

They searched the entryway, but found nothing. Not on the shelf, not on the couch, not in the empty ashtray or any of a dozen places a person might commonly stash their keys.

“Damnit, I didn’t wanna have to do this,” Dan muttered under his breath, flipping over a sofa cushion.

“Are we really gonna...”

“We’re just gonna scare the keys out of him and leave.” Dan assured Chase. Given who he was talking to, Chase wasn’t entirely convinced.

“C’mon, let’s hit the stairs.” Dan said, creeping towards the staircase that led to the second story, where the farmer’s bedroom was, presumably.

They held their breath as they snuck their way up the stairs, dreading a telltale squeak from the aging staircase. Thankfully it was silent. Finally they got to the top of the stairs and crouched in the small hallway outside the door to the old man’s bedroom.

“Alright, we’re gonna break in there on my count. You hold him down, I’ll ask the questions, alright?”

Chase nodded.

“Sounds like he’ sick or something.” Chase muttered.

“It’s going to be fantastic,” Natalie said with a determined smile.

Perry shrugged. Fair enough.

***The next day***

“What’s all that?” Perry asked, pointing at the huge duffle bag sitting in front of Nat’s mech-suit.

“Camping gear. I’ve always wanted to go camping.”

“And your dad’s okay with you going out all night outside the wall?” Perry asked. Natalie still kept in touch with her dad.

“Of course he is, I bought the company he works for.” Nat said, hopping into the Mechsuit and firing it up before using the high-tech limbs to grab the duffle bag and sling it over the robot’s shoulder.

Perry felt his eyebrows rise, and shared a glance with Heather.

‘Damn,’ She mouthed at him.

‘No shit’. Perry mouthed back.

As far asPowerMoves went, buying your parent’s place of employment had to be in the top ten of all time. She was now her dad’s boss’s boss.

“So um...where’d you get that idea?” Perry asked. It seemed genuinely out of character for the shy, reserved Tinker.

“From you,” Nat said with a frown and shrug, as if it should be obvious. “Every time you break something, you just buy it, and fix it up better than it was before, and it works out great for you. I broke my relationship with my parents so I bought it back and am fixing it up the way I like it.”

“Huddle.” Perry said, motioning to Heather.

The two of them scuttled away from Nat and put the crowns of their heads together before they began whispering.

“Did she get hit with a Minder whammy?” Perry whispered.

“I think we’re just a bad influence.” Heather whispered. “Confident Nat is kind of hot, though.”

“I mean, obviously it’s hot, but is it good for her to do the kind of stuff I do?” Perry whispered back.

“Is it good for you to do the kind of stuff you do?” Sophie asked, her arms locked around theirs, seamlessly part of the huddle.

“When did you get here?” Heather demanded.

“Magic,” Sophie said with a smile.

“So, what are we gonna do about this?” Perry asked.

“It depends on whether she uses her newfound power over her parents as a sword, or shield.” Sophie said.

“True,” Heather said, nodding. “If she just sits on it, then all it’s doing is giving her some breathing room.”

“Makes sense.” Perry whispered.

“Okay, so as long as she doesn’t abuse it, this is okay?” Heather clarified for all three of them.

They all nodded, then broke the huddle, returning to Nat who was watching them with concern.

“Natalie, sweetheart, can I consult with you on something?” Sophie asked as she approached Nat. The Elysian attendant pulled Nat aside and began whispering to her. Nat nodded along, frowning at first, then rapidly growing redder and redder as a blush blazed across her face.

“Can you do that for me?” Sophie asked, patting Nat on the shoulder.

“I-I think so,” Nat squeaked, nodding.

“Excellent.” Sophie said, giving them a smile and a thumb’s up before heading back up the stairs of Perry’s lair to the motel’s Employee Room.

“Dare I ask?” Heather whispered under her breath as Nat stiffly walked back to her mechsuit, checking her list of supplies for a weekend at Grampa’s house before launching out of the open bay doors and heading for the outskirts of the city.

Perry and Heather followed suit. It was typically a hell of a drive to get to the Collins Farm, but flying took less than forty minutes.

From the air, Perry saw the plot of land he’d be working with. It was up a winding trail from the main farmhouse, abutting the north forest where the treeline was pushed back a hundred yards from the edge of the farm to give the massive gun placements a clear line of sight.

In front of the farmhouse, Perry made out the long dirt driveway and spotted Nat’s mechsuit, where Grampa was pulling up a four-wheeler with a trailer beside it and helping her with her luggage.

How did she even get that massive duffle bag to the lair in the first place? Perry wondered. It weighed as much as she did.

Perry’s questions were answered as he landed, he spotted Nat using her magnetic gloves to arrange the duffle bag to fit along with Heather’s luggage. Those gloves would probably come in handy on a farm. All the tools were made of iron and steel.

“Welcome to Collins Farm,” Grampa said once all three of them were there. He wiped sweat off his brow and re-adjusted his frayed ball-cap. He glanced at the sun, which hadn’t reached it’s zenith.

“You got here early. I suppose you want to get started right away then?”

Perry unloaded a fifty-pound sack of unicorn shit from the back of his power armor and onto the trailer.

“Absolutely. I got a new spell I wanna practice with.”

Gretchen’s Idyllic Manifestation

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