Hide and Seeker by Daka Hermon

Author:Daka Hermon
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

My eyes fly open. The darkness is so thick it takes my breath away. What … what happened? Where am I? Suddenly, like water spewing from a faucet, memories flood my mind. The Seeker! It came for me!

I jerk up, smacking my head against something solid. “Owww.” The pain hits as a lump instantly forms on my forehead. It throbs to the frantic beat of my heart. I hold still and wait for the dizziness to pass. My back is slightly arched and as I wiggle around a little, I realize I’m lying on my bulky backpack. The straps are tight around my shoulders.

It made it to Nowhere with me.

Nia was right. There’s no time to celebrate, though. I have to figure out where I am.

I inhale a deep breath. The air is humid and I smell … dirt. I slowly stretch out my trembling arms. I can’t extend them fully because of whatever is above me. My fingers slide over something coarse, with a wavy pattern. Wood maybe?

My hands shake but I keep reaching out. To my left and right, more wood. Beneath me, wood. Wiggling around, I’m able to judge the size of the enclosure. It’s small, just a little wider and longer than me. I’m trapped in a Justin-sized box?

A dark, wooden box the size of a person. It’s a coffin! I’m buried alive!

“Noooooo! Help! Somebody help me!”

I push and kick at the wood, but I’m like a turtle on its back, flailing helplessly. “Help! Let me outta here!” Air. Is it running out? I’m gonna suffocate. Can’t breathe. I’m dying. My body will shrivel, wither away until only dry bones are left.

“Help! Please!” I’m breathing so fast air whistles out of my nose. My stomach lurches, sending up partially digested orange chicken and fried rice. I slap my hand over my mouth and squeeze my eyes shut. I swallow back down the sour taste and struggle to control my breathing.

One … two … three … four … five. Inhale. Exhale. One … two … three … five … Inhale. Exhale. Breathe! Tears trickle out the corners of my eyes and I’m trembling so violently my teeth chatter.

Breathe. I’m alive. I’m not dying. I have plenty of air. The walls of this box are not closing in on me. I imagine wide-open spaces—acres of farmland, a desert with miles of rolling dunes, a football field, the large park near my house, empty beaches … Breathe. Count. Breathe. Count.

I clench my eyes closed and for some reason this darkness is not as scary. I’m aware of everything—the weight of the locs on my forehead, the sticky sweatiness of my body, the harsh sound of my breathing, the rough texture of my clothes against my cool skin.

“Justin.” It’s a faint whisper. So low, I think I imagined it.

“Who’s … who’s there?” My voice is weak.

There’s no response. I wait. All my nerves are on edge. “Who’s there?!”

I swallow hard. My nails claw into the wood beneath me as a swell of anger rolls through me in waves.

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