Read Online The Long Weekend by Savita Kalhan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Savita Kalhan
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finally the man started pulling the cord up, back into the bathroom. The window closed with a bang. Sam crawled out of the bush, and ran for his life.
He had no more than a couple of minutes to reach the trees, he guessed. It would take the man that long to get downstairs and find the right keys for the front door – plus he wouldn't know which way Sam had gone. The problem was that Sam couldn't work out quite where he was in relation to the front door. He needed to get his bearings right so he didn't get lost, but he had to get away quickly, too. He hazarded a guess that he was somewhere to the west of the front door. He belted across the springy, well-tended lawn, heading east, towards the trees, and then changed his mind and went directly towards the dark safety of the woods just in case the man got out of the house faster than Sam had estimated he would and spotted him.
In his head he saw an image of the man running through the corridor, pelting down the stairs three at a time, with the keys going jingle jangle, the right key ready in his hand to unlock the door. It was enough to spur Sam on, and he put on a mad burst of speed, grimacing at the intense pain in his side, but he didn't let it slow him down. Almost there, almost there, and then he collapsed in a heap behind the first tree. He wriggled round, keeping his head down, and looked back across the lawn. Someone had switched the outside lights on and Sam could see the outline of the whole house clearly.
His room hadn't been on the west side of the house, it was more like at the back. Now he had his bearings, he had to decide what to do next: head round to the front of the house and from there make his way down the drive towards the gate, or head deeper into the woods and find a house or a main road from there. He lay sprawled flat against the wet, muddy ground trying to decide. He knew he was wasting time, but his heart was pounding so loud it wouldn't let his brain work. He had to wait for the pounding to slow down and for his brain to start working or he might end up doing the wrong thing – which might get him caught.
Think, idiot brain, think. What should he do? Where should he go? There were pros and cons to both directions. If he went round the front there was a chance he might get spotted, and also that was probably what the man expected him to do. But if he got to the gate then he was almost at the road and all he had to do was follow it until he could flag down a passing car, or the road might lead to a bigger road, or a village, or something, anything.
The other option of heading into the woods was bound to be safer. No way the man would spot him in this much darkness and he would definitely get away. But he might get lost, lose his bearings, go round and round in circles alone in the dark. But he wouldn't get caught.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He slithered right up to the edge of the line of trees to get a better look. The man had rounded the side of the house and was heading directly for the patch of ground below the bathroom window. Sam held his breath. Somewhere behind him an owl hooted and Sam ducked down as the man's gaze travelled towards the woods. The owl hooted twice more, went silent and hooted again. It could have been saying, he's here, he's here, and although Sam knew that it wasn't, he just wished the owl would shut up because the man kept looking into the trees every time it hooted. It must have got Sam's message because six hoots later the bird fell silent and didn't speak again. The man continued along the back of the house and Sam breathed more easily.
He didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to get there because he walked slowly, which was a bit odd until Sam realised that he probably thought the fall had killed Sam, and dead kids didn't get up and run away. Well, he was in for a surprise then, because this kid had run away.
But what about Lloyd? What about Lloyd, Sam thought angrily. He had abandoned Sam
He had no more than a couple of minutes to reach the trees, he guessed. It would take the man that long to get downstairs and find the right keys for the front door – plus he wouldn't know which way Sam had gone. The problem was that Sam couldn't work out quite where he was in relation to the front door. He needed to get his bearings right so he didn't get lost, but he had to get away quickly, too. He hazarded a guess that he was somewhere to the west of the front door. He belted across the springy, well-tended lawn, heading east, towards the trees, and then changed his mind and went directly towards the dark safety of the woods just in case the man got out of the house faster than Sam had estimated he would and spotted him.
In his head he saw an image of the man running through the corridor, pelting down the stairs three at a time, with the keys going jingle jangle, the right key ready in his hand to unlock the door. It was enough to spur Sam on, and he put on a mad burst of speed, grimacing at the intense pain in his side, but he didn't let it slow him down. Almost there, almost there, and then he collapsed in a heap behind the first tree. He wriggled round, keeping his head down, and looked back across the lawn. Someone had switched the outside lights on and Sam could see the outline of the whole house clearly.
His room hadn't been on the west side of the house, it was more like at the back. Now he had his bearings, he had to decide what to do next: head round to the front of the house and from there make his way down the drive towards the gate, or head deeper into the woods and find a house or a main road from there. He lay sprawled flat against the wet, muddy ground trying to decide. He knew he was wasting time, but his heart was pounding so loud it wouldn't let his brain work. He had to wait for the pounding to slow down and for his brain to start working or he might end up doing the wrong thing – which might get him caught.
Think, idiot brain, think. What should he do? Where should he go? There were pros and cons to both directions. If he went round the front there was a chance he might get spotted, and also that was probably what the man expected him to do. But if he got to the gate then he was almost at the road and all he had to do was follow it until he could flag down a passing car, or the road might lead to a bigger road, or a village, or something, anything.
The other option of heading into the woods was bound to be safer. No way the man would spot him in this much darkness and he would definitely get away. But he might get lost, lose his bearings, go round and round in circles alone in the dark. But he wouldn't get caught.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He slithered right up to the edge of the line of trees to get a better look. The man had rounded the side of the house and was heading directly for the patch of ground below the bathroom window. Sam held his breath. Somewhere behind him an owl hooted and Sam ducked down as the man's gaze travelled towards the woods. The owl hooted twice more, went silent and hooted again. It could have been saying, he's here, he's here, and although Sam knew that it wasn't, he just wished the owl would shut up because the man kept looking into the trees every time it hooted. It must have got Sam's message because six hoots later the bird fell silent and didn't speak again. The man continued along the back of the house and Sam breathed more easily.
He didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to get there because he walked slowly, which was a bit odd until Sam realised that he probably thought the fall had killed Sam, and dead kids didn't get up and run away. Well, he was in for a surprise then, because this kid had run away.
But what about Lloyd? What about Lloyd, Sam thought angrily. He had abandoned Sam
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