Camp 30 by Eric Walters

Author:Eric Walters
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PENGUIN GROUP (CANADA)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I ROLLED OVER IN BED, awakened by the sound of a phone ringing. I sat up. It was bright, so it had to be morning, but I had no idea what time it was. The phone rang again. I jumped out of bed and ran along the hall, then down the stairs, taking them two or three at a time. I hit the bottom, almost tumbling over as my feet skidded for traction on the slippery wooden floors. The phone rang again as I raced into the kitchen and grabbed it.

“Hello!” I said, panting for breath.

“Good morning.”

I knew the voice instantly. “Bill.”

“Did I wake you up?”

“No … well, yeah, you did.”

“About time. Is your brother still sleeping?”

“I think so. What time is it?” I asked.

“It’s after seven-thirty. Your mother just left for work.”

“Then Jack is definitely still sleeping. He sleeps a lot these days,” I said.

“Go and wake him up. You two have to be out and on the highway within fifteen minutes. You have an appointment.”

“An appointment?”

“Yes. On the highway in fifteen minutes.”

“Meeting who, and—?” Suddenly there was just a dial tone on the other end of the line. I dropped the phone into its cradle.

“Jack!” I screamed as I raced out of the kitchen. “Jack! Get up, Jack!”

“So we have an appointment, but you don’t know with who, and it’s out on the highway, but you’re really not sure where on the highway … right?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

Another car whooshed by us, causing a few little cinders to skip up into my face in the trailing breeze it created.

“And you didn’t think that maybe you should have asked for a few more details?”

“I tried to but the phone went dead,” I explained to him again. “If we keep walking, whoever it is will find us.”

“But you do think it’s Bill, right?” Jack asked.

“He was the one who called, but somehow I didn’t get the feeling it was him we were going to be meeting. Either way, I’m more worried about what’s going to be said than who’s going to say it.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“Are we going to be told we have to stop delivering the mail, and that we have to get ourselves fired to do that?” I explained.

“Mom wouldn’t like that,” Jack said. “But if that’s the worst thing that happens, that’s not so bad.”

“That’s not the worst thing,” I said. Jack stopped walking and I turned around to face him. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You think too much!” Jack snapped.

“Maybe it’s just that you don’t think enough,” I countered.

“At least I think enough not to annoy somebody who might box my ears,” he threatened as he balled his hands into fists.

“I was thinking that they might tell us we have to move again,” I said in a hurry.

“What?”

“If we had to move the first time because of something we did that put us in danger, maybe we’ve done it again. Doesn’t that make sense?”

Jack didn’t answer. Not disagreeing was usually the closest he came to agreeing with me.

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