Behind the Wall

The camera mounted above the workbench showed the garage clearly, the shadows deep

and sharp, and in the corner of the frame, near the large industrial shelving unit where

I stored bulk parts, a section of the drywall was moving. It wasn't a subtle shift; a rectangular

section of the wall, roughly two feet by three feet, was pivoting inward on a hidden hinge,

dissolving the seam between the panels perfectly. I watched, breath held in my

throat, as a pair of legs emerged from the void, clad in dirty cargo

pants and heavy work boots, followed by a torso wrapped in a dark hoodie.

The figure lowered itself to the floor with a practiced, silent agility, avoiding the squeaky