Eventually, after much anguish, I found myself in front of the most ordinary house in the county. Not because it looked the same as all the other houses, though it did. No, it had a certain je ne sais quoi that caused it to fade into your subconscious, you know it's there, but if someone were to ask you to recall anything at all about it, it would appear blurry and nondescript in your mind's eye. I opened the gate and walked towards the front door, but instead of ringing the doorbell, I walked to the side of the house, which was hidden from view from the neighbors and from people walking their dog by a tall, healthy shrub. And then I walked through the wall.
Once out of sight and in safety, I gingerly lowered the backpack and unhooked it from my arms. Before I could change my mind, I closed my eyes and contacted Jack. The bastard was VRing.