Chapter 26

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            I ran.

            The rain was a downpour now. Water beat furiously into my eyes, obscuring my vision frequently. It was better when I cut through the woods, but the rain still found its way through the tangled ceiling of branches overhead. Thunder crashed like the artillery shells of a massive advancing force. Lightning made the world a flash-blue negative as I ran by The Tree and finally broke from the woods and into the Cameron’s backyard. It seemed that I was on the deck and at the back door in two strides. When I finally beat on the door, I wasn’t winded and I couldn’t remember most of my run there.

            There was no answer.

            Oh please don’t let me be too late. Please don’t let this happen. Please, please, please…

            Still, despite my frantic pounding on the back door, the house remained silent and still. I began to look around frantically for something to smash the glass, but then there was a figure in the kitchen walking towards the door. The world that I had seen falling apart before my eyes somehow held together when I saw that it was Wendy, alive and well.

            Even as she was opening the door, she saw my expression and her face creased with worry. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

            Then, even before I could find my voice to speak, I could tell by the sudden growing horror on Wendy’s face that she had already guessed what was wrong. I saw it wash over her face and knew that it was something she had feared, perhaps expected, for a long time. “They found us.” she said with an expression that suddenly begged me to tell her otherwise.

            I wished desperately that I could have told her that it was anything but what she thought. Some lesser emergency. Some other reason. Anything. I hated to see that look of sudden dawning terror in her eyes.

            Finally, I took her arm and met her eyes urgently. “Wendy, where’s the rest of your family?”

*               *               *

            Wendy and I found her mother in the living room, ironing clothes as she watched television. As we ran into the room, she looked up at us with a welcoming smile, which cracked instantly when she looked at our faces. She froze and the iron in her hand gave out a hiss of steam. “What is it?” she asked apprehensively.

            “It’s happened.” was all Wendy had to say.

            Mrs. Cameron didn’t move. She just stood there for a moment, holding the steaming iron. Her face had lost all animation and for just a moment she looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an onrushing car.

            Wendy moved towards her urgently. “Mom, did you hear me? I said—”

            Her mother snapped to life again, setting the iron down and carefully reaching down to unplug it. “I heard you.” she answered at last. “Where’s Josh?” Despite her steady expression, her voice trembled.

            “He’s upstairs.” Wendy said.

            “I’ll get him.” I said quickly, then spun around and rushed up the stairs.

            On my way out of the living room, I heard Mrs. Cameron say shakily, “I’ll call the hardware store.”

            Then I was up the stairs and running through the thick, white carpet of the upstairs hallway. Thunder boomed with such force that the windows rattled. I rounded the corner of Josh’s open bedroom door and he looked up from his desk where he was bent over a half-assembled model. A small desk lamp poured over his work, leaving the rest of the room in dusky shadows. Only gray light filtered in through the front windows, and raindrops drummed viscously against the panes, smearing the view of the front driveway.

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