Read Online Hostage by Willo Davis Roberts - Free Book Online Page A

long?” he asked harshly.
    My lips trembled, but nothing came out of them. I’d prayed only a few minutes ago, but now I was too numb even to do that.
    â€œShe couldn’t have called the cops. The phones are all gone. I put ’em in a box with the other little junk that I carried away in the first load.”
    â€œSo who knows you’re here?” the deeper-voiced leader asked. He was standing a few steps below me, now, and his eyes, a very pale blue, were boring into mine. Blue eyes ought to have been friendly, but these weren’t. They were icy, mean.
    I tried once more to speak. What would they do if they thought someone else knew and would rescue me very soon?
    â€œMy school nurse knows,” I managed to croak desperately. “And my mom. She’s . . . supposed to pick me up in a few minutes. . . .”
    They were communicating something with their eyes. I couldn’t read them for sure, but I didn’t think they believed me.
    â€œShe’s lying,”my closest tormentor said. “Nobody’s coming to get her.”
    The leader licked his lips, glaring as if he really was ready to strangle me with his bare hands, right there in the upstairs hall. “Well, we don’t want to take any chances. Let’s get the rest of the stuff loaded and get out of here.”
    â€œWhat are we gonna do with her, then?”
    â€œTie her up. It’ll take all three of us to load that piano. The rest of the stuff won’t take long, but let’s move it. Just in case somebody does show up.”
    I wasn’t prepared to be shoved suddenly forward onto the stairs. I went down on one knee and was jerked upward as if my captor didn’t care how much he hurt me getting me where he wanted me to go. “Buddy, get me some of that clothesline we’re gonna use to keep the blankets on the piano.” He was propelling me down the stairs, and it took all the effort I had to stay on my feet. If I fell he’d probably drag me or walk on me, and I was already hurting from the pressure of his hand. He was strong enough to make me do anything he wanted; there was no point in struggling and getting hurt even worse.
    â€œWhere’ll I tie her? We’re taking all the chairs out of here,” he said as we reached the main floor.
    Our dining room set was as old as I was, and I didn’t think it would be worth much if they sold it, but it was the only one we had. I was sagging again, but the man held me up with one hand, as if it were no effort at all.
    â€œWe’re not taking the kitchen chairs,” the leader said. “They’re just junk.”
    Under other circumstances I’d have been insulted to hear our possessions described as junk. Right this minute I was too scared to care.
    â€œHurry up, Bo,” Buddy said, and the one called Bo thrust me ahead of him along the hallway to the back of the house, banging me against the walls as we went.
    â€œIt won’t do you any good to resist,” he told me angrily as he used one foot to pull a chair out from the table and forced me to sit on it. “If you don’t behave, don’t think I won’t hurt you.”
    I had no doubt about that at all. I collapsed into the chair, glad to sit down, because I wasn’t going to be able to stand, anyway. Thebackpack was a bulky weight between me and the chair, but he didn’t take it off.
    â€œPut your hands behind the back of the chair,” he ordered. I obeyed, feeling him looping the rope around the crossbars so that even if I stood up I wouldn’t be able to free myself of the chair. I wondered frantically if they’d just take our goods and go, leaving me behind. I’d have to sit here until someone came home and found me, and by then they’d be miles away. It no longer seemed to matter so much if they took Dad’s picture and Jeff’s piano. What mattered was still being alive when my parents came