Escaping

It is never an easy thing for anyone in our family to say something that goes against the family rules.

There is always a risk that you will be kicked out of the family and the even bigger possibility that you will be mysteriously found dead. 

My uncle decided to sleep with a prostitute, and our grandfather found out. The day after, our uncle turned up dead in the local movie theater. 

My brother and I have been careful to keep our words in line, and to always be respectful. We were terrified that whenever our grandfather would visit we would end up dead.

The sense of relief that flooded our room when our father told us he had passed, must have flooded out into the rest of the house, because our mother seemed happier as well. Our little sister felt she could play with her dolls in the living room instead of the attic. 

But that feeling didn't last long. Our father started being visited by men we didn't know, and the living room became his office. We were told to not go in there anymore. My brother and I ended up taking our sister on long bike rides and then car rides to pass the time. 

We would make sure our adventures always happened out of town, hoping our "deeds" wouldn't get back to our father. On our seventeenth birthday, my brother and I were called to our father's "office".

"Sons, today is your eighteenth birthday." He looked between us, "I have arranged for your schooling in the family business to begin tomorrow. No complaints."

My brother and I looked at each other, knowing this could be a test and replied in unison, "Yes sir."

That decision soon cost us twelve years. We learned that our family's business was dark and illegal. 

We were trained by our grandfather's old bodyguard with firearms, and different ways to overpower someone. Every move we made, we became more strong, and knowledgeable about the evil things our family did.

Our father didn't give much salt about our sister, she grew up as frightened as our mother. She would do whatever was asked of her without question. Often we would find her standing outside the living room "office" as if she was a maid.

My brother and I had always protected her and we were growing more and more concerned that she would never be her girlish self again.

On the evening of our thirtieth birthday, we asked our father if we might have a day furlough. Our father looked over our recent records to see if we had done anything that could veto this. He found nothing.

We went for a night on the town, promising our sister, as she saw us to the door, that by tomorrow we would have a surprise for her.

We drove two towns away, to a town we knew our father had no contacts in. We sat down in a private booth and began talking. 

"Robert, I'm not sure this is the smartest plan. We know what happens to those who try to leave."

"James, I understand that. But we also know the smartest way to leave. It's almost flawless."

My brother looked down at his menu as the pretty waitress came over to our table. We ordered a meal of pancakes. Our favorite dinner. We continued to discuss the plan over the meal, and by the time we left, James felt more at ease.

We arrived home, reported to our father what we had done while out, and went upstairs to our room. The plan was to start tomorrow morning at family breakfast. 

 -+-

Our father ignored his meal, he was reading his case files over the amazing birthday pancakes our mother had somehow convinced our father to allow her to make. 

We ate our pancakes carefully, not to make a mess our mother would then have to clean. Our sister sat beside our mother, they were not allowed to eat until our father and us had finished. Our father finally set aside his papers and began to eat.

We laid our utensils down correctly, and waited for our father to finish, as was protocol. He finally finished, dropped his fork onto the table, splatting the syrup that was on it over the table.

He stood, and told us, "Sons, to the office." 

"Yes sir." We waited till he was out the door, and then flashed our sister an apologizing look. We followed our father to the "office" and enacted the next part of our plan.

"Sons, this case came to me late last night. It is the perfect case for you. It has just the right "difficulty" to prove you can take over the business." The look of pleasure on his face, made us feel sick. But it was all part of the plan.

We took the paper and pretended to read it. We already knew it was an assignment in Albania, and that it required two men and a woman. Our father began to prattle on about which woman would even be up to the challenge. James nudged me, and I raised my hand. Our father stopped and looked at me. "Yes Robert?"

"Our sister, sir."

He stared at us dumbfounded for a minute. "Your sister?" I took a deep breath, "Yes sir. She is so dimwitted she does whatever we say. She will play this role easily."

Our father stared at us for a moment. This was the make or break moment. He slowly nodded his head. "I agree. 'It' doesn't have enough brains to feed a seagull. Fine, send for 'it'." James turned and told the servant outside the door to summon our sister.

She soon appeared, head down, and bowed to our father, then to us. "Ellen, your brothers requested your assistance on this case. You will do as asked, and if you so much as speak out of turn, you will not return to this house breathing."

Our sister nodded her head, and kept it bowed. Our father dismissed us and sent us on our way. 

Our sister followed us quietly as we headed to the gear rooms. We grabbed our gear, made sure our sister had some as well, and left.

We didn't go to the airport. We didn't go to a bus station. We didn't go to a car rental.

We drove to the town we ate at the night before, and parked the car just outside of town.

Our sister didn't say a word. Probably still thought this was in the plan. We made our way through the town, entered the pancake house, and went to the cellar. 

We told our sister that we would wait here till our contact got here. We put her on the small armchair behind us, and posted up with the guns faced at the door. 

An hour went by, then another. We stayed on alert, our sister fell asleep behind us, and after three more hours, we heard a car pull up. 

The sound of a single set of shoes coming down the stairs had us cover our sister with a blanket, and switch to machine guns. The door didn't fly down with a kick, no one came rushing through, but a knock on the door set us at ease.

*Knock. Knock. Bang. Knock. Knock.* James nodded his head, and I got up, and carefully opened the door. We both breathed a sigh of relief when we saw our private contact outside. 

He had a suitcase filled with clothes, and we quickly dressed and woke our sister. She put on a small men's suit and followed us mutely out.

We quickly got into our contacts car and began driving. His driver drove carefully as not to be a cause for attention. Our contact handed us all new ID cards, and told us what our new "occupations" were. Our sister seemed confused, but still went along quietly. 

-+-

We arrived at our location three days later. The house wasn't above ground. It was underground, barricaded and ready for an apocalypse. 

We sent our sister off with the female caretaker and went into the small study. We sat down and drafted a letter. 

                              -+-

Two days later a letter arrived on the desk of Mr. Harold Horand. It had no return address, and the postage stamp was from his town. He had his wife open it so if it was a trap he wouldn't die. 

Once she had it opened, he grabbed it and read it. His face clouded and grew dark. He then tossed it in his trash can and called in his nearest officer. He yelled at him to trace the envelope, but it soon proved fruitless. His wife bent and grabbed the letter out of the trash, hiding it in her apron. When the night came, she sat alone in her small room, and read the letter. 

"To Our Rat Father,

We, your sons and daughter, have removed ourselves from your household. We were being mistreated, and our sister was being forced into silence. 

Do not try to trace or find us. We have been well trained by you, and you will never find us. If you even try, we will report you to the authorities, and you know we have enough evidence and know the locations of all your safe houses. If you try to move them, our contacts will inform us and you will be reported.

We will be living normal lives, we will not return to you and your business. Your business will have to be passed on to someone other than family if you want it to survive.

Your sons and daughter,

James and Robert Horand

Ellen Horand