[Revised] 

Zara's breaths came out in small white puffs as she bounded across a back patio. Her backpack slapped against her back with every step. The darkness weighed heavy upon her shoulders. The air was thick and hard to swallow, like the growing bud of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Not only did her earlier concern occupy her mind, she sensed that something bad was going to happen—no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on other, less pessimistic thoughts, the feeling remained. She was charging towards her target with a mental picture that was blurred around the edges; nothing good would come out of that.

I should warn them.

Zara jumped with catlike agility over a ledge, then crouched down low and held her breath.

Her ears picked up on the sounds of the night. A high-pitched warbling from cicadas lurking amongst the foliage. Sporadic chirping, from crickets camouflaged against the undergrowth. The ensemble gave the atmosphere an unearthly quality—it made her skin crawl.

Everything but the sound of her friends' footsteps. A dog howled in the distance.

She stiffened.

Where are they?

Rustling.

Zara's hackles immediately rose, and her jaw reflexively clenched. She unsheathed a knife from her ankle holster in a flash, ready to strike. She had expected trouble, but not so soon. Had Saffron really gotten sloppy?

Zara waited for any more tell-tale sounds of danger. Back arched, senses fully alert, Zara kept the weapon in front of her but hidden from view.

More rustling.

Something plopped down behind her, but before she could register what it was—or who it was—she swivelled around and lunged.

Her body connected with the assailant's. She used brute force to pin them down against the ground, forearm pressed against the windpipe, knife against the jugular.

From the string of profanities that left their mouth, Zara judged that it was a male.

He writhed violently underneath her, so she pressed the edge of the blade against his throat—a warning.

"I'm—Orion!" The person gasped, voice hoarse. He stopped struggling, and she felt his body relax underneath her. His breathing was ragged, mimicking a panting dog.

Zara lifted the knife and inconspicuously pushed it back into its sheath. She climbed off.

Orion rolled to one side, clutching his throat with both hands and curling into foetal position. His boots scraped against the grass, causing a strong, herbaceous scent to prickle her nostrils.

"You're leaving behind a lot of evidence," Zara said impassively, shifting from a kneel into a squat.

Maybe I went overboard there.

She felt a twinge of guilt, but one could never be too cautious especially in a situation like this. Orion should've simply informed her of his presence instead of pulling a magical appearing act.

"Maybe if you didn't jump me like a psycho, I wouldn't be."

"You were the one that snuck up on me!" She curled her hand into a fist and clamped her mouth over it.

Don't. Let. Him. Get. To. You.

If she kept bickering with him, she could wake up the whole neighbourhood.

"What's going on? You're being really loud," Aurora said, now beside her. There was irony to be found in the statement. The only reason Aurora wasn't convulsing on the ground with Orion was because her stealth mirrored an angry buffalo's.

"Orion sneaked up on me, and now—"

"It doesn't matter. Why did you stop?"

God's sake, get your shit together, we're not amateurs, Zara wanted to say, but instead, she let out a breath, and reached down to tug at a dandelion. No point arguing in a time like this. "I have a bad feeling about this mission—something's up." Her eyes darted blindly around Orion's dark form. She wanted to say more, but it was too late now. She should've voiced her thoughts much, much earlier, but back then, emotion had overpowered all logic. Zara wanted to kick herself for letting that happen. 

"What? Seriously?" Orion seemed incredulous, but his reaction was far from surprising. 

"When am I ever wrong about things like this? We have to go back, especially after this mess." She looked at Aurora, this time, hoping that she would get back up on her statement—Aurora was usually on her side, being a big believer in the girl code and all. 

Instead, Zara received a snort and an eye-roll.

"You're just playin', this place is a graveyard." Orion fumbled with his back-straps—he had a habit of doing so when bored or disinterested in a conversation.

"I'm not— this isn't a good idea guys, trust me. If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have flipped Orion—"

The light from a streetlamp flickered. Zara's head snapped towards the sidewalk. Another flicker. She sobered.

"Don't be stupid. We're wasting time. Let's go," Aurora whispered, then jumped up and ran off before Zara could add anything else.

Orion remained silent for a moment. She could practically hear the gears grinding in his head. To her surprise, he shook his head. "We'll be fine. Come on, let's bounce."

Zara bit her lip and ripped the dandelion out of the ground. "Alright."

No point. Orion won't listen this time. Cheeky cunt.

The two darted forwards and into the final plot. They wove in and out of the thick row of evergreens which marked the boundary between the two properties.

The group stopped and crouched underneath a pine.

The house chosen by Saffron was a two-story wooden lodge, painted a creamy white, with a front balcony supported by four columns. A cobblestone path lined by flowers led to the front door, and the entire ensemble was illuminated by the moon's silvery glow.

No lights were on from the inside. Then again, they still hadn't surveyed the entire perimeter.

"I'll check the left flank, you'll check the right," Orion directed, "Aurora I'm gonna need you to check the back. We'll meet there."

"You can get in from here, here, and here." The red spots on the map materialised in Zara's mind. 

Without another word the three sped off, each to their respective stations.

Zara examined her side of the house with a keen eye for any windows accidentally left unlatched. There were three: the highest one, right underneath the roof, was a half-moon, probably leading to the attic. A sliding window lined the second floor—Zara guessed that it led to a bedroom—whilst the ground floor had a large stationary window. From the outside, she could see a kitchen sink cluttered with a few unwashed dishes.

She tiptoed towards it.

Keeping her head down, and her movements minimal, she stopped right underneath the ledge. Slowly, Zara turned. She rested her back against the wall and took a couple of stabilising breaths.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She looked up. Only then did Zara notice the window gaping at her from the adjacent dwelling—it's curtains were pulled together, which was relieving. However, that did not rule out the possibility that the people behind it could hear what was happening outside. She had to be quick.

I'll check the window, then go out back.

Zara reached up and ran a gloved finger along the lip of the window. It wasn't unusual for people to leave them ajar, either on purpose or by accident.

No such luck, this time, it was sealed shut.

She let out the breath she was holding, and trotted slowly towards the back-garden. 

-:-