Imprisoned (33 page)

“Bikes would be faster, but I hate to steal from some kid.”

“So you’d rather risk getting caught by Hansen then take some kid’s bike?”

Icy coldness washed over me at the reminder of Hansen’s threat and I strode over to the bikes, lifting one up and climbing on.

Billy mounted the other one and off we went. We made much better time and soon we arrived in my neighborhood. We knew the bikes might come in handy later, but didn’t want them visible while we stalked my house, so we hid them in some bushes around the corner from my street and walked toward my house.

It was still pretty early—nearing four o’clock—and all was quiet in my neighborhood. As we approached my house we didn’t see any cars with people in them. I hoped that meant the Enforcers wouldn’t bother looking for us here.

“Now what?” I asked Billy. I didn’t think we should just walk up to the door and knock—besides the fact that everyone was probably sleeping, I didn’t think it would be helpful to my family to have seen us, in case they were questioned—but I needed to get inside somehow and  I didn’t have a key.

“Now, we wait.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

That didn’t sound promising. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

He looked at me with incredulity. “It was
your
idea.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m well aware of that.”

“Well, we’re here now. Let’s see what happens.”

We were several houses away from my house, but I could see it. I looked around, trying to figure out a good place where we could hide and observe. “What if we go into the backyard of the neighbor across the street and watch from there?”

“What if they catch us?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

His gaze probed the area. “I don’t really want to have to crouch in a bush for two hours, so your idea is worth a try.”

Our decision made, we hurried over to the gate of the house directly across the street from my house and slipped into the backyard. We closed the gate, then peered through the slats. We had a perfect view of the driveway and front door.

Chapter Thirty Six

Over the next two hours we took turns watching the house. It was my turn when a car pulled up in front of my house. “Billy,” I whispered, tapping him on the shoulder as he sat on the ground dozing.

He jumped up, immediately alert, and looked through the fence slats. “It’s Enforcers.”

My heart pounded as I watched two uniformed men climbed out of the car and stride to the front door. I could hear their knocking from where I stood. No one answered and they had to knock again—it was still pretty early and I wondered if anyone was up.

A minute later the porch light came on and the front door opened. With the men in the way, all I could make out were a pair of small feet and knew it was one of my brothers. A moment later Mom came into view. Her hair was disheveled, like she’d been sleeping—which she probably had been.

Her face came in and out of view as she spoke to the men and they shifted position, but when I saw her face, I could tell she was distressed and I wondered what exactly they were telling her. Did they tell her I had attempted to kill an Enforcer before escaping? Or that Billy and I had assaulted two Enforcers? Either one was a serious crime and I could only imagine the worry that news would give Mom.

She wiped at her face and I knew she was crying. I had an overwhelming urge to run to her and tell her I was okay, that the men had deserved what they’d gotten, but I knew that wouldn’t help the situation. Finally, I saw Mom shake her head and close the door. The men walked back to their car and got in, but just sat there.

“Do you think they’re going to leave?” I was frantic to talk to Mom. And to get my backpack.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“What should we do?” I pressed my face against the tiny space between the slats, watching, watching.

“We can wait if you want. But I kind of doubt they’ll be leaving anytime soon.”

The sun was rising and soon Timber Hills would be alive with activity. Sighing, I turned away from the fence and looked at Billy. “I guess we should keep moving.”

The sound of an engine turning over broke the silence. I spun around and peered through the gap in the fence. “They’re leaving,” I whispered without looking away.

“Maybe it’s a trick and they’re just going around the block.”

I knew he could be right, but I couldn’t leave now. “Let’s wait and see.”

“Okay.” He paused, then, “Are you hungry?”

I glanced at him. “Of course.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the power bars we’d pilfered from Tasco’s office and held it out to me.

I took it from him and stared at it. “Do you think this one has the drugs in it?”

“Nah.” Billy unwrapped his and took a bite. “These are the old kind. They’re fine.”

My stomach wanted to believe him so I opened mine and ate it. It didn’t taste quite as good as the new ones, but that just reassured me that it was probably safe. We stayed in the neighbor’s backyard for twenty more minutes and the Enforcers never came back. “What do you think?” I finally asked, keeping my voice to a whisper—I didn’t know who lived in the house that we stood next to, and didn’t want to find out. “Should we go over there?”

“Now? While your family’s home?”

“Well, yeah. That’s kind of the point.”

“I thought there was something you needed to get.”

“There is, but I’d like to see my family too.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“What if they have to report that you were there?”

“They would never do that.”

“What about the little kids? If they saw you, they might accidentally tell someone and if the Enforcers found out, your family could get in trouble.”

Of course he was right. I could totally see Brandon or Zac letting it slip that they had seen me at the house. What would happen to my family if the Enforcers found out they hadn’t immediately reported me? Would
they
get sent to Camp Willowmoss? The thought of my little brothers or Amy, or even Mom, having to go through what I’d experienced made me reconsider. “Okay. You’re right. We’ll wait until they leave. Then I’ll get what I came for.”

Billy nodded. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I know you wanted to see them.”

“What about you? Don’t you have a family you want to see?”

The warm expression on his face faded, but he didn’t answer. “What time does your family leave?”

I let my question drop. “About seven thirty.”

“Okay. So we have less than an hour to wait.”

When the garage door slid open an hour later, I pressed my face to the fence and watched as Mom herded the boys and Amy out to the car. My heart ached to see them and to let them know I was okay. Mom seemed downcast and I could only imagine it was due to her early morning visitors.

They backed out of the garage and the door rumbled closed, then they drove down the street. The Enforcers hadn’t come back and I hoped they had moved their search elsewhere.

“Ready?” Billy asked.

“Yeah.”

Quietly, we opened the gate, left the backyard, and shut the gate behind us. Then we dashed across the street to my house and into my backyard. When Goldie didn’t come out to meet me, I was surprised. “I have a dog.”

“Oh. Where is it?”

“I don’t know.”

We walked around to the back patio and the sliding glass door where I saw Goldie in the house, standing by the door, patiently waiting to be let out.

“There’s your dog.”

“Yeah.” I reached toward the door and pulled. It slid open and Goldie rushed out, her tail wagging. I squatted down next to her and wrapped my arms around her and she licked my face. After a moment I stood. “I guess my mom forgot to let her out and lock the door.”

“She probably had other things on her mind.”

Yeah, I thought, like me. “Well, at least we can get in.”

We went in with Goldie following, and closed the door. “I’m so thirsty.” I went into the kitchen and took out two glasses. “You want some water?”

“Yes.” Billy followed me to the kitchen.

We gulped down several glasses of water, then I took a moment to take in my surroundings. I’d only lived in this house for two weeks before I’d been dragged away to the F.A.T. center, but coming here now brought a strong feeling of home and I basked in the feeling for a moment.

“We should probably make this quick, Morgan.”

Billy’s words reminded me of the reality of our situation. “Okay. I’ll be back in a sec.” I dashed up the stairs to the room I shared with Amy. Someone had made my bed and picked up the clothes I’d carelessly left on the floor. I smiled, knowing it must have been Mom—I didn’t think Amy would bother—then hurried over to the closet to get the backpack I’d filled with my getaway supplies.

At first I didn’t see the backpack and worried that Mom had found my odd assortment of items and put them away, but then I saw it, tucked back in the corner. I pulled it out and unzipped the main compartment, then quickly looked through the items inside. Everything was there. The only thing I’d been unable to find the night I’d been taken away was Fred’s phone number. I remembered looking through the desk drawer and not finding it, but decided I should look again.

I yanked open the drawer and quickly searched, but didn’t see the scrap of paper with his number on it. Wanting to be thorough, I pulled the entire drawer out and dumped the contents on the floor, then sifted through each item.

“Yes,” I said under my breath as the scrap of paper came into view. I placed it in my pocket and quickly scooped the rest of the items back into the drawer before putting it back in the desk opening. I picked up the backpack and turned to leave the room, then set it on the floor and hurried back to my desk. I pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen and wrote a note to mom, telling her I was okay and that I would see her soon.

I tossed the backpack over my shoulder, dashed to Mom’s room and put the note in her dresser drawer, then raced down the stairs to where Billy was petting Goldie.

He stood when I came into the room. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here. I’m afraid those Enforcers will be back any second.”

“What do you have in that backpack.”

“Why?”

He frowned. “Maybe I’d have some suggestions of what to bring.”

“Okay.” I set the backpack on the floor and unzipped it.

Billy reached in and pulled out the ax. “Why do you have a hatchet?”

“You mean an ax?”

“Morgan, this is called a hatchet. An ax has a longer handle.”

“Oh.”

“And your reason is?” He waited for me to answer, but I was quiet. “What, are you a hatchet murderer or something?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.”

He tilted his head, clearly waiting for an answer.

“I have my reasons. But no, I’m not planning on killing anyone.”

He set the hatchet on the floor and looked through the rest of the items: water bottles, power bars, flashlights, batteries, and the GPS device and charger. “Interesting.” He packed everything back in, then looked at me. “Does your mom have a first-aid kit we can take? Or any antibiotics? I don’t want our arms to get infected.”

“Good idea.” I sprinted up to the hall closet and found a small first-aid kit, then went into her bathroom and rummaged through her medicine cabinet, but didn’t find any antibiotics. Hurrying back down to Billy, I handed him the first-aid kit, which he placed in the backpack. “No antibiotics. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. We’ll figure something out.” He stood and swung the backpack onto his shoulders. “Okay, let’s get out of here.”

“Are you sure you want to carry that? I can manage it, you know.”

“I’m sure you can, but I thought I was helping you.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about giving up my precious cargo, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings—he’d done so much to help me already.

He slid it from his shoulders. “Here. You can carry it if you want to.”

I took it from him and placed it on my shoulders. The weight of it felt good because I knew it held the tools I needed to get home.

We left through garage—I didn’t want to leave the sliding door unlocked all day—and Goldie followed us to the backyard. I gave her a final hug, then we opened the gate, made sure no Enforcers were around, and hurried down the street to where we’d stashed our bikes.

“Which way to Fox Run?” Billy asked.

“I can answer this,” I said, proud of myself. I pulled the GPS device out of the backpack and turned it on, then punched in the saved setting for the tunnel. I showed Billy the map. “This is where I want to go.”

He looked at me with a question on his face. “Okay. North it is.”

I turned off the GPS and put it away, then we climbed on our bikes and began pedaling. After a moment I said, “If we can get to a phone, I have someone I can call who may be able to give us a ride.”

“Why didn’t you just call from your house?”

I gave him a look, like,
duh, Billy. You should know this.

He grinned. “Right. The Enforcers might have tapped the phone.”

I nodded. We rode on, but I was so terrified that the Enforcers would find us, each time a car approached I wanted to swerve down the first side street I saw. As we left the outskirts of Timber Hills, I felt more and more anxious to find a phone and call Fred. I knew the chances of him being available, let alone willing, to help us were not high. When he’d offered to help in the future, he was probably just being nice. Even so, I had to give it a try. Otherwise we’d end up riding our bikes all the way to Fox Run, which could take days—assuming we could even get that far without being caught.

I felt so exposed as we rode along, but kept going as we had no other option. When we reached the town just north of Timber Hills and rode near a cluster of stores, I got an idea. “Billy, let’s stop at that grocery store.” We rode up to the side of the store and parked our bikes. “Wait here, okay?”

He nodded.

When I went inside I noticed there were only a few customers—it was still pretty early—and walked over to the customer service desk. A woman stood behind the counter sorting through some papers. She looked up when I stopped at the counter. Her name tag said Jane.