He looked back at the dispenser, expecting to see water pouring onto the floor, but there was nothing coming out of the spout. He cocked his head. The noise wasn’t coming from the refrigerator. It was coming from…
…outside.
As he took a step toward the kitchen window, the sound stopped. He stood there for a moment, waiting, but all remained quiet.
He was just about to raise the glass again when the
He tiptoed to the counter and quietly set down his glass. Leaning forward, he pulled the edge of the curtain back just enough so he could peek outside.
Moonlight bathed the backyard, allowing him to see everything from the swing set Maggie didn’t use anymore to the big tree in the center of the yard. He could even see Mr. Ortega’s tool shed in the far back corner. Other than that, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
The noise started up again. Only now, Eric could hear that it really wasn’t so much a
He dropped the curtain, and froze.
Outside, directly below the window, he had seen the top of a head. And though the moonlight wasn’t strong enough to tell the color of the person’s hair, the greasy mess couldn’t have belonged to anyone other than Peter Garr.
Slowly a shadow in the shape of Peter’s head appeared on the curtain.
The head turned to the right.
And to the left.
It tilted down and hovered right by the crack at the bottom.
Eric took a silent step backwards.
Outside, the sniffing paused, and then:
Eric raced out of the kitchen and into the hallway that bypassed the dining room. At one end was the front door and potential escape, while at the other was the intersecting hallway that led back to the bedrooms. The Trouble sisters were back there and now, more than ever, he needed their help. So that was the way he went.
There were three doors off the hallway: a bathroom, Maggie’s parents’ room, and Maggie’s room. Like her parents’ door, Maggie’s was shut, but Eric didn’t even hesitate. He opened her door and rushed inside.
Since her room was located at the front of the house, and not in the direct path of the moonlight, it was much darker than the living room had been. For half a second he thought about flipping on the light, but he didn’t. If Peter came around to the front, he would be sure to see it.
Maggie’s bed was against the wall opposite her window. The blanket-covered lump lying in the middle of it had to be her. The mood she’d been in, no way would she have let Fiona or Keira use it. They would be somewhere on the floor, in the darkest part of the room.
He bent at the waist. “Fiona,” he whispered.
No one stirred.
“Fiona,” he repeated, a little louder this time.
Still nothing.
He took a frustrated breath, then said, “Fiona,” in a voice loud enough to wake all three of them. No one stirred. Apparently, girls were heavy sleepers.
He lowered himself to his knees and crawled toward the center of the room. After a moment, he could just make out two shapes similar to the one on Maggie’s bed. Which was Fiona and which was Keira, he couldn’t tell, but it didn’t really matter.
He grabbed what he guessed was a foot on the lump closest to him and gave it a shake. “Hey.”
Nothing.
He shook it again, harder this time. “Hey, wake up.”
When that didn’t work, he switched to the other lump and repeated what he’d just done.
Not even a twitch.
No longer concerned about being selective, he said, “Hey, you guys. Come on. I need you to wake up! One of those Maker robots…” he paused, searching for the right word, “…surrogates is outside right now. We’ve got do something. Hey, come on! Are you guys even listening to me?”
Apparently they weren’t. And apparently neither were Maggie’s parents, because Eric was pretty sure he’d been loud enough to wake them, too.
The annoyance he’d been feeling quickly changed to fear.
He crawled over to the bed.
“Hey, Maggie,” he said, pushing on her leg.
Same non-response.
He turned back to Fiona and Keira. They were breathing slowly and steadily, like they were in a deep sleep.
“Come
He was about to try the same with Keira when he heard the sniffing sound again. Peter was indeed coming around to the front yard.
Eric stepped gingerly over the girls and to the window. Carefully, he lifted the shade a couple of inches and looked out. Peter was standing on the front lawn fifteen feet away.
Not only was he not leaving, he wasn’t alone.
19
It took a moment before Eric recognized the man at Peter’s side. It was one of the gardeners from school who’d been helping Peter and the others try to kidnap Eric.
The two of them were facing the street, neither of them saying a word. Then, without warning, Peter’s head tilted back, his nose jutting into the air.
Eric let go of the shade, just as Peter started to turn toward the house, and scrambled over to Fiona. “Please,” he said, rocking both of her shoulders. “Wake up.”
But waking up was definitely not happening.
He sat back. For the second time in twenty-four hours, he wished he had that stupid unicorn necklace. He could have signaled Mr. Trouble with it if it wasn’t still sitting in his room at home.
As he dropped his hand to the ground, feeling completely helpless, it knocked into Fiona’s book bag. He growled at it then grabbed it by the handles, intending to throw it across the room in frustration. But he stopped himself at the last second.
He set the bag in his lap and started feeling around inside. He found what he was looking for near the bottom. Fiona’s phone. She would have Mr. Trouble’s phone number.
He pushed one of the buttons and the display lit up. Only the screen that appeared wasn’t what he expected. There were five empty squares running across the center, and above the boxes were the words:
