Read Online The Hush by Skye Melki-Wegner - Free Book Online

pause.
    â€˜Why’s it matter? You’re alive, ain’t you? No cause for complaining, if you ask me.’
    â€˜I don’t see why you’d risk your neck for a stranger.’
    Sam hesitated. ‘I’m working on a job with some friends of mine. We’ve been … recruiting, I guess you’d call it.’
    â€˜Recruiting?’ Chester turned to stare at him. ‘And you want me?’
    â€˜Well, you passed the test.’
    â€˜What test?’
    â€˜Last night,’ Sam said, ‘in the saloon. You hooked up to the Song, all on your own.’ He made a sound that was half-laugh, half-scoff. ‘Just what the captain’s been looking for. When she sees what I dragged in for the job, I bet she’ll offer me a pay rise.’
    â€˜That’s why you saved my life?’ Chester said. ‘You want me for this … job?’
    â€˜Hell no,’ Sam said. ‘I don’t want you for nothing. I don’t trust Songshapers, and I sure as hell weren’t hankering to save your neck.’
    â€˜Then why –’
    â€˜â€™Cause orders is orders, and I do as I’m told. Captain wants you, and Captain gets what she wants.’ Sam glanced up at the empty sky. ‘Come on. Better move before that blasted horse comes back.’
    â€˜But the Hush – you were going to tell me –’
    â€˜Later.’
    Chester forced himself to swallow a retort. This wasn’t the time to argue. They were still in danger, and Sam still held all the answers. This boy might even know the reason for his father’s vanishing. But if Chester pushed too hard, or asked too many questions, the older boy might clam up completely.
    All he could do was follow and trust that the answers would come.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    The fields were eerily silent. Chester trudged with a stitch in his side. There was no wind, no breeze, just heavy air, as hot as stew, and the sound of their own progress. Huffing. Stomping. Snapping twigs and heaving breaths.
    And suddenly, a shout.
    Chester stiffened. It wasn’t a distant yell, from some far-flung corner of the maze. It was barely a hundred yards behind them.
    â€˜I found ’em! Get the sheriff!’
    â€˜Oi, over here!’
    Chester whipped his neck around. He couldn’t see the speakers. But when he thought of all the stalks they’d broken, brushing the sides of the path, he felt sick.
    â€˜Come on,’ Sam whispered. ‘This way.’
    Chester fought to keep his footsteps light, but it was hopeless; every strand of dried grass or broken stalk crunched like a firecracker. And Sam, despite his speed and strength, wasn’t built for sneaking. He blundered along with all the noise of a wild griffin, sparking cracks and huffs and snaps into the silence.
    â€˜The Hush!’ Chester said. ‘We can go back into the Hush, can’t we? Just long enough to get away from –’
    Sam shook his head. ‘Can’t do it out here, even if we wanted to. You need some Musical residue in the air, for breaking into the Hush.’
    â€˜There’s none here?’
    â€˜Nope. It’s not like in the middle of town, near that Songshaper’s house.’
    Chester felt a weight settle in his stomach. Without even realising it, he had been relying on the hope of the Hush. The knowledge that if worst came to worst, they could slip back into unreality, safe from the sheriff and his bullets.
    But they were trapped, with no way into the Hush and no way out of the cornfields. Their pursuers probably included the farmers who owned this field. They would know every twist and every turn. Chester, on the other hand, was lost. Ahead, nothing but endless green and tan. Above, just empty blue. There were no landmarks to judge by, no way to keep track of the town or the horizon. He couldn’t see over the tops of the corn stalks, which loomed like soldiers over his head. He tried to steady his breathing, to hide