Read Online Now You See It... by Vivian Vande Velde - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Vivian Vande Velde
Tags: Ages 12 & Up
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them.
So I veered for the wall, thinking I could scramble over and—I hoped—lose him in the neighborhood.
"Hey!" I heard the aide yell a second time. "No running, you two!"
Julian was too close behind me. If I didn't make it over that wall on the first try, he'd be right on top of me. And if the wall was that easy for me to just fly over, it wouldn't slow him down, either.
And what street was on the other side of that wall, anyway? Already I was disoriented. If I came out on South, which was a busy street, somebody was sure to notice if Julian ... what? Pulled a knife on me? Cast a spell on me? Dragged me into a nearby spaceship? And just because people were driving by, that didn't mean any of them could stop, or would even
try to
stop in time to rescue me—even assuming they could tell I needed rescuing and that we weren't just horsing around. Robinson might be a good street to come out on, being residential, but what if it was Mount Hope Avenue on the other side of the wall—which was lined with mostly empty parking lots?
I could dodge behind one of the trees and hope that Julian went right past, without circling around it and coming face-to-face with me.
I glanced over my shoulder.
He was gaining.
There was another little stand of trees, and I ran into that, and out the other side a moment later, around the gazebo, headed for some more trees, saw an archway—and lost track of where I was.
Oh, yeah,
I thought,
those arches the lilac committee put up.
I knew it wasn't the one near my house, all the way across the park, but assumed they must have put up a bunch of them, never mind that Highland Park was across the street, not on Westfall Nursing Home grounds.
I sped through the arch—which sure looked like granite, though I knew it couldn't be—and there were a lot more trees on the far side, for which I was grateful. I zigzagged, watching the ground so I wouldn't trip over tree roots, and wondered if now
was the time to try hiding. I couldn't hear Julian anymore, so I glanced over my shoulder.
Not a sign of him.
Of course, not a sign of the arch, either.
Or the wall.
Or the nursing home.
And there were
a lot
of trees.
A whole lot.
Even when I looked over the tops of my lenses.
I was in a forest. Not a wooded yard. Not a park.
A freaking forest.
11. The More I Escape, the Deeper Trouble I Get Into
There was no time to panic. I heard Julian call, "Wendy!" His voice was close by. I was pretty sure it came from the direction I was facing, from where the gate, and—beyond that—Westfall Nursing Home should be, and wasn't.
On the other hand, I heard the crackling of brush coming from the other way, the direction in which I had been heading.
It was probably a case of sound echoing or bouncing off all those tree trunks, but I
had
been zigzagging, and I was willing to grant that finding myself in a forest in the middle of what should have been a backyard might have disoriented me.
Might have.
He
was
closing in. I just wasn't sure from which direction.
So I dived off to the side, behind a fallen tree, into a patch of really tall wildflowers, thinking only at the last moment that I would be lucky not to impale myself on any of the branches.
Twigs jabbed me, but didn't inflict any fatal injuries—or at least not immediately fatal injuries. I raised my head from my prone position and peeked over the tree trunk. I saw that, for all my elusive maneuvering since going through the gate, I'd been following a path that ribboned through the trees.
And standing on that path, not five feet away, having caught up some time between my last glance in that direction and now, was Julian. The path was so twisty, there was a chance he hadn't seen my graceful hurtle into the vegetation even though he appeared to be looking directly at me. I told myself this was probably an optical illusion. I didn't duck, lest that movement attract his attention.
My heart was beating so fast and loud, I wasn't aware of any other
So I veered for the wall, thinking I could scramble over and—I hoped—lose him in the neighborhood.
"Hey!" I heard the aide yell a second time. "No running, you two!"
Julian was too close behind me. If I didn't make it over that wall on the first try, he'd be right on top of me. And if the wall was that easy for me to just fly over, it wouldn't slow him down, either.
And what street was on the other side of that wall, anyway? Already I was disoriented. If I came out on South, which was a busy street, somebody was sure to notice if Julian ... what? Pulled a knife on me? Cast a spell on me? Dragged me into a nearby spaceship? And just because people were driving by, that didn't mean any of them could stop, or would even
try to
stop in time to rescue me—even assuming they could tell I needed rescuing and that we weren't just horsing around. Robinson might be a good street to come out on, being residential, but what if it was Mount Hope Avenue on the other side of the wall—which was lined with mostly empty parking lots?
I could dodge behind one of the trees and hope that Julian went right past, without circling around it and coming face-to-face with me.
I glanced over my shoulder.
He was gaining.
There was another little stand of trees, and I ran into that, and out the other side a moment later, around the gazebo, headed for some more trees, saw an archway—and lost track of where I was.
Oh, yeah,
I thought,
those arches the lilac committee put up.
I knew it wasn't the one near my house, all the way across the park, but assumed they must have put up a bunch of them, never mind that Highland Park was across the street, not on Westfall Nursing Home grounds.
I sped through the arch—which sure looked like granite, though I knew it couldn't be—and there were a lot more trees on the far side, for which I was grateful. I zigzagged, watching the ground so I wouldn't trip over tree roots, and wondered if now
was the time to try hiding. I couldn't hear Julian anymore, so I glanced over my shoulder.
Not a sign of him.
Of course, not a sign of the arch, either.
Or the wall.
Or the nursing home.
And there were
a lot
of trees.
A whole lot.
Even when I looked over the tops of my lenses.
I was in a forest. Not a wooded yard. Not a park.
A freaking forest.
11. The More I Escape, the Deeper Trouble I Get Into
There was no time to panic. I heard Julian call, "Wendy!" His voice was close by. I was pretty sure it came from the direction I was facing, from where the gate, and—beyond that—Westfall Nursing Home should be, and wasn't.
On the other hand, I heard the crackling of brush coming from the other way, the direction in which I had been heading.
It was probably a case of sound echoing or bouncing off all those tree trunks, but I
had
been zigzagging, and I was willing to grant that finding myself in a forest in the middle of what should have been a backyard might have disoriented me.
Might have.
He
was
closing in. I just wasn't sure from which direction.
So I dived off to the side, behind a fallen tree, into a patch of really tall wildflowers, thinking only at the last moment that I would be lucky not to impale myself on any of the branches.
Twigs jabbed me, but didn't inflict any fatal injuries—or at least not immediately fatal injuries. I raised my head from my prone position and peeked over the tree trunk. I saw that, for all my elusive maneuvering since going through the gate, I'd been following a path that ribboned through the trees.
And standing on that path, not five feet away, having caught up some time between my last glance in that direction and now, was Julian. The path was so twisty, there was a chance he hadn't seen my graceful hurtle into the vegetation even though he appeared to be looking directly at me. I told myself this was probably an optical illusion. I didn't duck, lest that movement attract his attention.
My heart was beating so fast and loud, I wasn't aware of any other
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