Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 130221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
I’m not going to run. Where would I go?
Running around the corner, I leap up, grab the ladder, and pull it down. Climbing the fire escape, I run up the three flights, hop over the ledge, and race across. But instead of going to the door, I stop at the edge and look down onto High Street.
Carnival Tower. Whoever they were in that story Hawke told me knew what they were doing. Especially if they were from Weston. A hiding place right in the middle of a rival town with a vantage point to see trouble coming.
This is a great spot.
I turn my head, seeing figures through the fog in the middle of the street about fifty yards down.
Something flies over the banner strung up over the street, and I see the form of a body being hung by the neck.
It’s a mascot. A pirate costume stuffed with filling to look real.
The Rebels cackle and jump back into their car, tossing eggs at vehicles as they pass. I watch them trail past Nicholas’s car and down the street, but then I see it.
The buckets strung up over an identical banner at the other end of the road.
One Pirate on each side climbs the pole, yanks their cords, and tar spills onto the Rebel car.
Shit.
I need to get to the bridge before the police show up to block our exit. This is going to get out of hand.
But just as I turn to head down into the tower, I realize it’s too late. Cops spill down the street just as fights break out and Rebels jump out of the car.
I jerk my gaze back to my car, seeing Tommy and Nicholas get out of the Nova, and I run back to the fire escape, scurry down, and race back onto High Street. Nicholas shoves Tommy back into the car, and I yell, “Keep her in there! Dammit!”
But he barely has time to look up at me and acknowledge before I hear, “Hey! Stop!”
I twist around, seeing a cop heading my way.
Oh, no.
“Aro Marquez,” he says, hand resting on the firearm on his hip.
How does he know my name?
Well, they all probably know my name. Or worse, he works with Reeves and is looking for me.
I shake my head. You’ve got to be kidding me.
I run, diving into Rivertown as Rebels chase Pirates and the cop chases me inside.
“Stop!” he yells.
Not a chance. You can arrest me tomorrow for whatever I did. Not tonight.
I race into the hangout, pushing through people, but commotion breaks out as a noise outside grabs everyone’s attention. People shoot out of their seats, and I push through them, trying to escape through the back of the place before he catches me, but I don’t know where the kitchen is.
Instead, I race down the tunnel.
People pour out of their booths, knocking me in the shoulders as they rush past to go see what’s happening out in the street, and I whip around, looking behind me.
He’s not there. Yet.
“Shit,” I whisper.
I back up farther and farther, more and more people heading out, and then I spot him. The top of his bald head as he rounds the corner, just visible over the sea of others.
No, no, no…
I slam into the wall, unable to go any farther. He weaves in and out of the crowd, I search for a way out, but he catches sight of me and pushes through people.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but then I lose my balance, falling backward.
I gasp, déjà vu hitting me as someone catches me, hauls me back into their arms, and the mirror closes, cutting us off from the cop.
“What the f—”
But a hand covers my mouth, and I whimper, squirming in their arms.
Then I stop.
The cop clears the crowd, halts, and looks left to right, not seeing where I was just a moment ago. Confusion spreads across his face, because I’m suddenly gone, and he doesn’t know how.
The person holding me stands as still as I do, watching him. Waiting for him to reconcile in his head that I must’ve slipped past him in the chaos.
He looks to the mirror and approaches, studying it. Placing his hand on the surface, he presses, and we hear the latches creak against the pressure, but it doesn’t give.
I’m in Carnival Tower.
Hawke?
But it isn’t his voice in my ear. “You know why they call it Carnival Tower?” the man behind me asks in a low voice.
Chills spread up my arms. That’s not Hawke’s voice.
“Because freaks play here,” he replies.
I swallow, my heart jackhammering in my chest. Oh my God. Who is it?
The cop frowns, looks around again, but eventually, he just turns and walks away. He disappears around the corner, and I clench my thighs, more scared now.
I almost want him back.
But then the guy behind me whispers, “You’re welcome, kid.”