Cul-De-Sac: Behind the Wall, #1

By P.S. Power

Jacob Hines is thrust into a world that can't exist.

After the horrific death of his parents and being accused of the crime, Jake is finally released into the custody of grandparents he never knew existed. If they're his grandparents at all. Which doesn't matter, because he has a secret. A thing that must never be spoken of at all.

Even if the strange walled community he finds himself in is actually a prison.

Even if he's going to be killed to keep secret what he holds inside of himself, behind the walls of his mind.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Orange Cat Publishing
• Release date: Sep 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798223081883

Book preview

Chapter one

Jacob had to admit that he felt a bit surprised at the welcome committee for his new home. The supposed place he was being housed, at least. The idea that it was permanent was one that he hadn’t been told at all, really. It had been highly implied that he might not be staying, in more than an overnight capacity. So, the idea of anyone coming to see him, specifically, probably meant something dire. Especially the person who had shown up for the job.

Not that he’d been imagining hot neighbor women would be bringing him pie and cookies or anything. The walled community that he’d been moved to, the night before, didn’t seem like the kind of place for that, anyway. Not that there weren’t women around. He’d seen a few of them, even just climbing from the little electric car that had come for him. More than one of them had even watched him, and the evening before the neighbor girl, from across the cul-de-sac had even waved back to him, after he'd done that in her basic direction.

That had been a bit weird, of course. The girl, who looked to be a bit older than he was, about sixteen or so, to his fourteen, had been pale. A strange kind of light skinned that got his attention. He was light, having not been in the sun that summer, but this girl looked like she was most of the way to being an albino. Blonde, so not a pure goth or vampire chick, even if there had been an air of that about her, in a way that Jake couldn’t really explain yet. She’d had a heavy chain that was visible at her neck, but old-fashioned clothing. A long skirt, that nearly covered her dark shoes. The top had been trendier, looking to be from the last century, he guessed, not knowing about things like style or fashion at all. A white blouse but covered with a light blue vest. All of the women who had come out had been like that.

Pale. Blonde. Dressed like they were hopelessly out of fashion. Not that he was one to talk. He had three shirts and two pairs of blue jeans, himself. One of the pair of pants had holes in them, being the only pair that had been recovered from his old house. So, she was doing better than he was that way.

Still, she’d been cute. So had the one he assumed was her mother. Even the oldest one, who seemed to be about fifty or so, had managed not to seem like a grandma, as much as most women of that age did. Not that he was planning to hit on any of them. They were hot, and he was decently horny, but the strange, intimidating man standing in front of him was pulling most of his attention, at the moment. In fact, he was being kind of a mood killer, if Jacob was going to be honest about it.

There was a uniform involved. A quick glance told him a lot about that situation. Things he probably wasn’t supposed to be able to understand, in fact. The man was dressed in black, with a badge, but that said he was from Wackenhut, not a local police department. Jake wasn’t the most read-in person in the world, being fourteen, but even he’d caught that Wackenhut worked as a military and government contractor, most of the time. His old imaginary friend, Wallace, had taught him about that. Not that he played with imaginary beings any longer. Jail had ripped that kind of thing right from his mind.

The man, who looked to be about forty, was fit. Big, and lean, like a power lifter who also ran as a hobby on the side. Not, oddly enough, like his grandfather was, or even his grandmother. That part was just weird, of course. He’d never met them before they’d come to pick him up the day before, in their tiny blue electric car. At first, he’d wondered if he was being kidnapped, they looked so young. No older than his own parents had, to be honest. Really, they both hit a chord that spoke of being younger than that. Also, possibly, Olympic athletes, as well.

He was just skinny, and a bit short, compared to both of them.

The man in the door was black, and kind of good looking. Not enough to get Jacob to switch teams, but if the man had shown up on a television program, no one would have thought twice about it. There was a strong jawline and a clean cut, professional air, about the fellow. More than a private guard would normally care about. Then, he clearly wasn’t one of those.

His grandfather, James, had answered the door, and the commotion had gotten his grandmother, or he guessed from what he’d been told, his step-grandmother, if that was a thing, to come out of the kitchen.  She spoke first, waving genially enough at the man in their doorway.

Ken! I’m about to make breakfast. Have you eaten?

The man smiled at the words, but seemed a bit embarrassed by the question, for some reason. Possibly just because, granny or not, Laura Hines was kind of hot. Enough that Jacob was going to have to make a point not to daydream about her. Even if she was a step-something and not related by blood. Again, she wasn’t an obvious freak about it, but she looked fit and at the same time like being in a movie could be a career choice for her. At least in a supporting role.

They all did there, so far. Like superheroes, hiding as the neighbors.

Except him. He was honestly just kind of normal looking. Short and skinny, but with enough acne on his cheeks and forehead to pull him into feeling self-conscious at the same time. Instead of feeling like he belonged on the bottom of someone’s shoe, he decided to run with the idea that it was funny, instead. A great cosmic joke, that had put him there in pretty valley, hiding from people who he wasn’t going to even think about.

After all, his face was what he had that way. His body, too. Though, clearly, working out was going to be in order if he wanted to fit in there. A thing that was his plan, overall. In the whole world he didn’t have anywhere else to go at all. Being there had kept him from going into the foster care system. That or possibly juvie. Not that he’d committed a crime.

A lot of people just thought he had.

So, he smiled and held it, focused on the new man, the one in uniform, rather than on the other people there.

The black guy, Ken, smiled a bit wider.

"I had a bagel. I’m good. I just came to give the new man here the talk."

Jacob didn’t mean to do it, since everyone was suddenly being professional, and serious. Still, he laughed and looked away. After a moment, everyone glaring at him, he explained. Which always made jokes less funny.

"Em... I already know to use a condom and where babies come from..." He tried to sound serious, but it didn’t work very well. Instead of seeming angry, the guard grinned. As if he were being hilarious, but the man didn’t want to start out by laughing.

Then he nodded.

Great! One less thing to go over, then. This is mainly paperwork, and some basic rules. You... We don’t know what you told him, Jim... It was a question, without being one. The voice didn’t go up at the end, just trailing off, hinting that filling in the blank was in order.

Jacob glanced at his grandfather, the hard looking man, nodding.

"Nothing. We didn’t have clearance. To move him in here, but that was all the orders said."

The words were strange, at least to Jacob. They probably spoke of the situation being even weirder than it seemed. Not just a gated community, but one that was, clearly, controlled by the government. Some kind of witness relocation program, or something along those lines. That or a prison, as nice as it was compared to the facility that he’d gotten out of the day before. That had been ugly gray concrete and steel doors. This was suburbia.

Ken just nodded.

"Good. We’re limited in what we’re allowed to tell you, Jake. You’ve been cleared to a secret level, but the truth is that you’re still a kid. No one expects you to nail what secrecy really means. At the same time, if you screw it up by too much, you end up in an unmarked grave. You know how it goes."

The thing was, Jake actually did. A thing that these people were at least pretending wasn’t a fact. He held his mind still, as he’d been taught, so that the information didn’t come to the front of his mind. The idea was that, if he didn’t think about what he knew, he couldn’t speak about it. Not that he would. It was too important. It was possible that these people hadn’t been told about that at all, of course. It could, also, be a trick to get him to admit to things that he wasn’t going to. Seeming nice was a great way to get a person to let their guard down, after all. A trick he was planning to use, if at all possible.

The words weren’t playful, and his grandparents looked at him with wide eyes. Probably waiting for him to screw up and be shot, standing right there. The idea of him having a security clearance at all was interesting, of course. Not that he hadn’t before. That was another thing he refused to think about. After all, he was a kid and needed to seem like one, even if he knew a few things that weren’t normal.

He shrugged.

This is... Witsec? That or this is where all the scientists for the secret bases live with their families?

The man in front of them was waved in by Jim and moved smoothly. Like he was used to going inside people’s homes, without really being asked. It was a normal thing then, for Ken, and possibly all the guards, to just come in to chat.

The big man gave a considering look before speaking.

"That... Isn’t too far off. Really, just to save problems, I’m allowed to give you a bit more than that. This place, Terrace Springs, is a government run operation. Federal. People living here are all either being protected or watched. A few of them still work for... Well, that would be telling, and it varies. The big point is, if you hear or see anything, or if anyone tells you something that sounds different, we need you to keep your mouth closed. Don’t mention it to anyone, if you can help it."

He nodded, looking away. The rules made sense, after all.

Right. Shut up... or you’ll kill me?

The man, still standing, even if they’d moved toward the modest, but nicely decorated living room, pointed at him with his right index finger. Playfully.

"You know, I thought this was going to be a lot harder than it is. You’re getting it. There was a smile though. From the guard, at least. This is fairly big time, here. If you find something out and need to talk about it, well, you can come to me with it. That or your grandparents, here. It won’t be that big of a deal, probably. People are people and the neighbors mainly keep to themselves here. If it is an issue at any point, well, silence is the plan. If someone is torturing you for that information..."

Again, everyone turned to look at him, their faces serious, instead of being playful, which was, clearly, what the conversation required.

He nodded, and tried to smile, in a grim fashion. It was a look he’d practiced, in the mirror. His face might not be pretty, but he could sell serious emotions decently well. Dire, dark and brooding were all inside what he could do pretty well. Sad and scared, too. He’d started doing that when it had looked like he was going to be on trial for murder. Before that had been dropped.

"Then I lie? Tell them so many incorrect things that when I finally break, they can’t be certain that they’re getting anything real? Because I will break. I cry if I get a bad papercut, so holding out and acting tough isn’t going to really work for me." That, of course, was a lie.

Jacob wasn’t the strongest person in the world, physically, but he wasn’t actually a wimp, either. Not the kind to give up just because of pain. He’d had some training for that, actually. From Wallace, but his other imaginary playmates as well, from when he was little. Still, the guard pulled a black ink pen, and flipped up several sheets of paper, then scribbled something. After a moment, the board was turned around and the pen was handed to him.

Initial, next to the line, after reading it.

That, oddly enough, in neatly typed text simply said action plan in case of coercion. What was written out longhand, in rather sloppy, but nearly legible printing, were the words, initial deceit. He got the idea and nodded. Apparently, if anyone grabbed him, lying his ass off was considered a good enough plan.

So, he put his initials in place, glad he didn’t have to sign his whole name. Jacob Baxter Hines. JBH, would actually fit on the tiny line provided.

The man flipped the board, checked that it had been initialed and then nodded.

"That shouldn’t come up. Still, if it ever does, even if it seems like a joke, or like you’re going to get a blowjob if you spill the beans, hold to your plan. Lie, right from the start. Still, if you have to do that, do a good enough job. Practice that, in fact. In your head." The pages were flipped back down, as they all sat. Ken being right across from him.

The man smiled again. It wasn’t actually friendly, this time.

"Look... There are a lot of rules to living here, and all of them make sense, to an adult who understands what’s going on. Most of these will seem like bullshit to you, being a kid who’s being handed all of this at once, coming from the outside. None of this is being done to keep you from getting laid, or drunk, or going to a party. If you’re going to go all rebel teen on Jim and Laura here... Well, I don’t care about that." The man winked then, as if trying to convince him he was on the side of the kid.

Which really did sound like bullshit to him. Jacob nodded, anyway.

Meaning Ken from Wackenhut went on.

"So, if you’re going to bend or break any of the rules, ask first. That isn’t a game, got it? If you come to me with a plan to sneak out to a party, I’ll have you met by a car down the street. Outside of the gates here, you’re mainly on your own. We don’t have the resources to follow you around and bail you out. At the same time, any spy worth half their pay will want to take a swing at you, if they work out who you are."

That, again, didn’t sound real. Not for just living in a walled community. Still, Jacob didn’t have to believe in anything. He wasn’t even really being told what was going on. On purpose, which, clearly, meant that he had to figure it out on his own. That was probably a thing he couldn’t keep himself from doing and the way the rules had sounded so far it was even, after a fashion, allowed.

He just couldn’t talk about it, if he found anything out. Real spying was probably out, as well.

After a moment, the dark skinned, tidy looking fellow, waved at him, reading the paper.

"You have to be in by nine each night, during the summer. Just... The real rule is an hour before dark, so hold to that. If you need to come and go later than that, call for a security escort. You can go outside at first light, safely enough. If you’re doing yard work, try not to do that until after ten in the morning, or noon on Sundays. If you’re out early, running or exercising, keep your head on a swivel. If you see anything odd or out of place, tell these two, or security, instantly. You’ll have the numbers for everyone."

The words were a bit strange, really.

So, Jake spoke, finally. Tilting his head and thinking first.

Is this place dangerous?

Each of the adults went still then, noticeably. Finally, Jim nodded.

It can be. We have veterans here and people with PTSD. So loud noises at the wrong times, running, yelling or even fighting can be seen as provocation. No one in the cul-de-sac here is that bad, but the community as a whole is larger than that.

Laura nodded at the words, as if they made sense. Her face spoke of it being less than strictly true.

The other man winked.

"Which, really, no one is that bad. Just don’t piss anyone off? They didn’t move here to have some kid come in and screw with them. Just, as a rule, figure that about half of these people can kick your butt in a way you do not want to happen, and you won’t be too far off. When in doubt, be polite and helpful. That or stay inside. The man winced and shook his head. Which... You’re allowed to be out during the day. Here, lets hit the real curfew information. You have some more signing to do."

There was a lot of it. As it turned out.

Still, the actual rules weren’t that hard to remember. He had to be in at night, and if he needed to leave during that time, a car would be sent for him.

That part had Ken waving in his general direction.

At least to the gates. We aren’t a taxi service, so if you want to actually go anywhere, be ready to walk or ride a bike. Anyway, now, yard work.

That part was a bit weird, since they were supposed to keep the grass mowed and hedges well-trimmed. There were even rules for flowers, and that kind of thing. Mainly, it was just that everything had to be kept tidy. A thing that his grandparents’ house had going on pretty well. The front yard was like a flower garden, in fact, with only a small patch of lawn. No one else had that going on and out of the six houses at the bottom of the sack, two of them had knee high grass going on. Not in a way that seemed to be decorative or on purpose, either.

Thinking about that, he shrugged, as he initialed the little lines next to each of the statements.

Um... Am I supposed to do all the lawns and gardens, or just this one?

Laura wrinkled her nose at him, for some reason, but didn’t say why that was. Jim tilted his head and after a long moment of silence, Ken cleared his throat and then nodded.

What do you think?

Jacob got the tone, that the man was suggesting he was being a smart ass, but he shrugged anyway. That was just part of his charm, after all. As long as it wasn’t going to have him shot. He still wasn’t certain that was a joke.

So, he took a deep breath and sighed.

"Of course it’s my job to see to everything. That only makes sense. Why else have some kid around, right? I can borrow some tools for that, and a mower? I mean, I can be out in the daylight, and don’t have any allergies, so that part is kind of clear." Besides, if he was doing that, he could try to collect information and maybe meet some people. Like the cute girl from across the street. Sure, she was going to be too old, and maybe even too pretty for him, but not meeting her wouldn’t help anything, either.

Instead of telling him to straighten up and fly right, Ken coughed, then, turned the pages and started to write. After a bit, he passed the clipboard over.

"We’ll put in for you to be paid for the work. Minimum wage. We’ll want snow removal during the winter, as well. We don’t get a lot, but some of the residents are older, and ice is a thing on occasion, so work out how to handle that, too. Ask first, before you do anything. Like you mentioned, some of these people only come out at night, so leave a note for them. You’ll have to check out on the equipment, and we expect you to learn to do upkeep on that, as well. Come over to the guard shack and we’ll get you set up for that. You might also be doing some other work, as needed."

Oddly, Jim grinned.

There you go! A real job already. I think the plan was for Jacob here to attend the local high school, in the fall?

It was June, but a few weeks into it. The weather seemed warm enough outside, but wasn’t blistering there, either. They were in Texas, but far enough up, in the hills, that they might see some of that snow. Like the man had said, probably not a lot. He was used to dealing with that kind of thing, of course.

He simply nodded. Not that he was that excited about mowing grass and pulling weeds for the minimum pay the law allowed. It really would be a good enough thing to do though and staying busy wasn’t going to hurt him, probably. Neither would being outside and not in a cell.

Jacob had to stop himself from thinking about his parents, just then. Of the fire. The man made of flames, as well. Something must have showed on his face, since Jim tightened.

You don’t have to work, if you don’t want to. Or go to school...

Rallying, he forced a small smile.

"I was just thinking that keeping busy is a good idea, actually. You don’t even have a television here. No computer, either. He used to have one, before it melted. So, this will take up part of the day, at least."

Ken stood and held out some papers. They were pamphlets. One