Redaction: Dark Hope Part III by Andrews Linda

Author:Andrews, Linda [Andrews, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-12-19T00:00:00+00:00

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"There you are!" Mrs. Bancroft strode across the pasture, her injured arm against her stomach. "Oh, dear, where is Robertson?"

"He was called away." Sunnie set her hand on her chest and dragged air into her lungs. Hauling slops was never this hard with Robertson.

Manny swiped at the sweat dripping down his temples.

"Sunnie, you sit right down and rest." Mrs. Bancroft muscled Manny out of the way and heaved on the wagon with her good arm. It eased forward. "This young man and I will take the food to the animals."

Manny looked at her. "But I promised...."

"Go on." Waving him away, she collapsed onto a boulder. "I'll wait here until you get back."

"Come on." Mrs. Bancroft shouted over the rattling wagon. "Those piggies are hungry."

With a backward glance, Manny disappeared into the next tunnel.

Sunnie slid to the ground. How was she going to shovel poo after the last half hour? She wasn't. She was going to sit right here and wait for her partner. Plucking a three-leaf clover, she twirled it in her fingers. Left. Right. The leaves blurred into one.

She tossed it away. Okay, this is boring. What was she supposed to do until Robertson returned? Think of ways to flirt with him? She scratched her nose. Nah, then she wouldn't have anything to dream about tonight.

The camera!

She sat up straight. Aunt Mavis had wanted her to pick up a camera from the museum. The collection of belongings was only a couple of tunnels over. Heck, they'd even passed it on their way here. She eyed the empty passage.

She'd promised Manny she'd stay.

But they were going to take forever. And Mrs. Bancroft would rope him into helping her empty the buckets.

Sunnie chewed on her bottom lip. She could just slip out and be back in a jiffy. It should be safe enough. No one ever went into the museum.

Best of all, no one would have to know.

She pushed to her feet and swayed a little. Besides, hadn't she read somewhere that moving was the best thing to prevent sore muscles? She limped across the hall and into the tunnel. Her footsteps filled the space between dripping water.

Two rights and three caverns later she stood at the entrance to the museum. Holding her ear to the canvas door, she listened. Just as she thought, no one was here. Batting the clammy fabric aside, she stepped into the room. Emergency lights dangled from the thirty-foot dome but the shelves created pockets of darkness.

The faint aroma of spicy cologne with floral perfume undertones laced the air. A bowl of glittering car keys overflowed a crystal punch bowl near her feet. People sure had taken some funny things when they'd left their houses. Of course, they hadn't known it was the end.

Or that they would die.

She ran her fingers over a wedding veil, careful to avoid the tears in the netting. Picking up a blue baby bootie, she set it on the shelf next to its twin. Strategic folds isolated a smiling couple in a glossy photo from the woods behind them.

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