Crow's Row

The room was silent. He remained still. I imagined that he was staring at the big bulge

that was under the blanket, considering his next move. After a minute, I heard him walk with

insistence past the bed, and he left the room, calling Meatball to follow him.

As soon as I heard the door click and confirmed the noise of his steps down the stairs, I ripped

the blanket off me. I had an idea where Cameron was going—and I had a plan. With record speed,

I was dressed and ready to execute. I crouched by the bedroom door and listened. After what

seemed like forever, I heard what I was waiting for: the muffled voices of Cameron, Spider, and

Carly as they walked out the front door. I waited a few more minutes after I heard the door

close and then headed out to follow them. I slightly opened the front door, peeking to make sure

they were out of sight.

My encounter with Roach had taught me that wandering around the grounds was a dangerous thing,

especially now that Griff was gone. I glanced around and didn’t see Roach; I was safe enough—

for a while anyway. I made my way down to the garage, stopping as I neared the corner. There was

a guard walking by the entrance of the pathway where I had seen Carly trek through the day

before. So I waited for my opportunity.

The guard walked back and forth by the path’s entrance; he got bored after a few minutes of

having nothing to look at but the back of the garage and kept marching down the line until he

disappeared around the corner. This was my chance. With as much speed as I could rally, I ran

straight for the pathway and didn’t look back until I was sure to be hidden in the trees.

There I stopped and listened: rustling of leaves and creaking and cracking of branches, all

above my head. I breathed again when I was sure no one was running in after me.

I warily continued on the beaten path. I had no idea how far the path went, or how far I would

be able to go before I was discovered—then who knew what would happen. I tried not to think

about that, and focused on getting moving instead.

The dirt line seemed to go on forever. With every step I took, I was losing my nerve. I was

starting to consider turning around when I hit a green brick wall. Strangely erected, tightly up

to the tree line was the back of a one-story building that had no windows facing out and the

beaten path ended directly under its metal door that had been left ajar.

I stood by the door and listened for voices—I heard nothing. I gulped and, with the speed of a

snail, softly treaded in.

Inside was a small office—or at least it looked like it was supposed to be an office. At the

farthest end of the room was an oversized wooden desk with a sleek, black leather chair half

hidden behind it. In the middle was a burgundy rawhide couch and a ratty blanket pitched upon

it. There were two wood-burning stoves stuffed in a corner, but no wood.

The floor and desk were spilling over with disarrayed piles of clothes. Recognizing some of

Cameron’s wrinkled T-shirts, I realized that this was where he had been sleeping since I had

taken over his room. I glanced at the stiff-looking couch and the yellowed pillow and felt a bit

guilty—I couldn’t imagine having to sleep on that every night.

I moved toward the large desk. Apart from Cameron’s improvised bedroom, there was something

else that made this room seem like just the shell of an office—its emptiness. The floor-to-

ceiling bookcases were, for the most part, empty of normal office stuff. There were no pictures,

papers, pens, computer, files, or anything else that would make this office an office.

When I heard quick footsteps, I froze.

Next to Cameron’s improvised sleeping quarters was a closed door. The footsteps seemed to be

approaching from the other side of it, and getting closer fast. I pushed the leather chair aside

and hid under the desk, peering through the hairline cracks between the wood planks that faced

the desk.

There I held my breath and watched Carly speed across the room and exit outside, closing the

heavy door behind her.

My heart was wildly thumping. I took a few seconds to calm myself and puffed. This had been a

close call. Too close. Ghastly thoughts of what Carly would have done had she discovered me went

through my head. Somehow I knew that I was not welcome to snoop here.

I crawled out from under the desk and headed for the metal door. Whatever this place was, it

wasn’t worth getting in trouble for … or worse.

But when I pushed on the heavy door—nothing happened.

I pulled, and then I pushed, using my whole body, but the door still did not budge.

It was stuck—and so was I.

When I heard unrecognizable voices through the other door, I froze in place again, terrified,

listening. There were several voices echoing in the distance, yet none seemed to be coming

closer.

I tiptoed to this new, possible, alternate exit and peeked out. It opened onto a short, narrow

passageway that led nowhere. A dead end. And oddly, there was no one there, though I could still

hear people noises.

Julie Hockley's books