Undone (Children of the Uprising Book 3) by Megan Lynch

Author:Megan Lynch [Lynch, Megan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781949090239
Publisher: City Owl Press
Published: 2019-02-04T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Bristol opened the door to the dingy youth hostel for Jude. They figured the best place to hide for a while would be a place where people of all nationalities came and went, too busy with the adventures of their own lives to be nosy about anyone else’s. He’d used most of his remaining money to buy fake passports for himself and for Jude, but he wouldn’t count on them to get them out of the UK. Though they’d been good enough for the overgrown children running the youth hostel, he knew they wouldn’t fool a customs official.

The young man at the front desk had barely glanced at the fake passports.

“Canada, eh? Bloody brilliant,” he’d said, nodding his head enthusiastically to a rhythm only he seemed to be able to hear.

Bristol was better at concealing and omitting than he was at lying, so he stayed silent. Jude too. The young man frowned.

“You don’t seem like the kind of Canadians I’ve met, though,” he said, and for a moment glanced down at the passports in his hands.

“Oh, you’ve been to Canada?” asked Bristol, hoping to shift the focus. “Where?”

“Yeah, mate! Toronto. First class weed in that city, man. Top notch.”

“We’ve never been. We’re from Edmonton,” said Jude.

“Never heard of it,” said the man, moving the long blond strands out of his eyes and properly looking at their passports now.

Shit. Bristol walked away from the desk, examining the Tibetan prayer flags hanging from the doorway, but Jude pointed to a map on the wall behind a desk.

“It’s the capitol of Alberta. West. It’s very cold there, and we don’t get out much.”

“I feel that. I feel that. You’re the first cats I’ve met from Alberta, then! Welcome to London!” He handed the fake passports back and showed them to their room.

This room also housed eight people, like the room in the warehouse, but this one had bunk beds and giant murals of Bob Marley on the wall. There was no one else in the room, but six other bunks were tossed with messy linens and half-zipped backpacks. The room reeked of something stale and warm.

Jude and Bristol claimed the remaining two beds, a pair of side-by-side top bunks. The young man was still in the door.

“Buckingham Palace is pretty cool, and it’s a good distance away from here so you can smoke while you walk. You can also just roll them up in our courtyard, we won’t say anything and the neighbors are cool as long as you bring enough to share.”

Jude sneered. “We don’t—”

“We don’t know if we’ll make it out tonight. We’re pretty beat. But we’ll be here for a couple of weeks, so don’t count us out.”

The man smiled. “Cheers,” he said, and closed the door behind him.

In spite of themselves, Bristol and Jude beamed at each other. They spoke at the same time.

“Showers!”

“Beds!”

They’d taken one bag for the two of them, which included a change of clothes for each of them, a few pairs of underwear and socks, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and soap.

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