Read Online Raw by Scott Monk - Free Book Online

glared at Brett before Sam pointed at him and said, ‘You! Go to your room! I’ll talk to you in a minute!’
    â€˜Next time, huh?’ Brett smiled as Josh left.
    â€˜And you!’ Sam growled, turning on him. ‘Get that grin off your face! I know you started this —’
    â€˜Me? I didn’t do anything.’
    â€˜Don’t lie to me. You picked a fight with Josh andhe got the better of you. That’s obvious. What isn’t is why this fight started in the first place.’
    But Brett wasn’t going to tell them anything. He just stood there, a cocky grin on his face.
    â€˜Brett, why did you start the fight?’
    â€˜Tell him,’ Mary urged, when he still didn’t answer.
    â€˜You either tell me,’ Sam threatened, ‘or I’ll call the authorities. And you know what that means, don’t you? You’ll spend the rest of your three months in a real juvenile detention centre. Got it?’
    Grinning, Brett spat, ‘See if I care.’

Safe, Brett slid out the door, closed the flyscreen behind him and took a minute to pull on his boots. His fingers knotted themselves in the dark, but he steadied his nerves and soon he was standing again. He slung his bag over his shoulder, scouted the property then pressed the light on his watch. 12.03.
    It was time.
    Moving off the gravel and onto the grass, he dashed from The Boys’ House past the homestead. Stolen tins of canned food clunked together in his backpack and he was sure with all the noise that he was a goner. He crouched down where he stopped. He looked at the homestead but no one stirred. The lights were off and everyone was asleep. He was okay.
    Half-rising, he continued towards the dirt track, but slower this time. He stopped at the entrance.Like a few hours ago there was still no gate, no barbed wire, no alarms and no beams to zap him dead if he did pass through. Just empty space. He could easily walk through it like an open doorway. Brett waved his hand through the middle one last time to make sure there was nothing there. But he only sliced air. Shaking his head, he confidently strolled through it. His foot landed on the other side and for a second — and only a second — Brett felt real fear. But the feeling quickly disappeared. He broke into a jog and got out of there.
    He’d nearly given up his plans. He’d decided once everyone was asleep he’d then just slip out. But Frog had been an unexpected pest. It seemed the kid needed an hour or two just to settle down before falling asleep. Just after ten o’clock Robbie hopped into bed then right out again to make sure the door was closed. It was. When he got back he rummaged round looking for his cricket bat, only to remember he’d stashed it in a friend’s room. At eleven o’clock, he trundled down the corridor to see who was still awake. (Nobody, except one kid who Frog woke up and wasn’t too happy about having a twelve-year-old croak in his ear all night.) Then, once back in bed, Frog bugged Brett with twenty questions about where he came from and what heliked before Brett told him to shut up and go to sleep.
    There had been another problem too. Just as he’d reached for the door handle, he’d heard whispering in the hall. One guy had said, ‘Make sure he doesn’t leave or we’ll all cop it’. Brett didn’t understand what that meant and didn’t hang round to ask questions. He jumped out his window then re-entered through the common room to raid the kitchen.
    Past the entrance, Brett kept to the dirt track that connected with the main road. He would’ve cut across the paddocks but it was too dark to go exploring blindly and he didn’t know the land at all.
    The trek was brisk. The mild night made the journey easier. It was another reason why he was leaving now. The forty degree heat would’ve melted his will come seven o’clock the next morning.
    The dirt