Ellie Sandberg would love to reinvent herself. When she earns a spot at an elite boarding school for young inventors, it seems like the perfect opportunity: A summer away from home, away from her overprotective parents, and away from the hopeless cr...
He just left us standing here? Not one word of explanation? The moment he saw that InstaQuest he took off at a run, unfazed by the howling wind and rain.
I should have gone after him. I tried, but Dr. Carlyle stopped me. "No." The program director's voice had rumbled low, echoed by a roll of thunder from somewhere off to the West.
"But he just got an InstaQuest! We have to follow—"
"Mr. Kemp is no longer my responsibility. You are."
It's too late now. I stood by helplessly as Emerson turned the corner around Grier Hall and disappeared into the storm. I have a sick feeling in my stomach that I know where he was heading.
Maybe Dr. C is right. The Overlook is treacherous enough without the added hazards of flash floods and lightning strikes. There's no way Ellie would be reckless enough to head that way in a storm. No way.
Not unless she didn't have a choice.
I wrench free from Dr. Carlyle's grasp, but I don't attempt to go outside into the pelting rain. I turn and race upstairs toward the second floor. "This way!" I call over my shoulder. "We need a laptop. Now!"
I clamber toward the first open door I see at the top of the stairs. Ellie's room. Empty. Her laptop sits abandoned on her desk. I flip it open as Dr. Carlyle trails me inside.
I can't believe I'm doing this in front of him. If my fate weren't already sealed, this would do it. But there isn't time to worry about saving my own neck. My fingers fly through the keystrokes as I pull up the command prompt.
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"Here." I beckon Dr. Carlyle to watch over my shoulder as the system logs in. An array of video feeds populate the screen, and I maximize the one I'm looking for. "Look! Look at this!"
The grainy image shows a locked gate. A rusted sign—"No Trespassing"—dappled by golden sunshine and the gently swaying shadows of leafy branches.
"There's no one there," Dr. Carlyle says. He reaches for the laptop, but I knock his hand away.
"Just watch," I tell him, not daring to look at his face. I pull up the source code editor and scroll to the damning lines of code that I left in place for the past three days. I delete the INSERT statement. Hit return. On the other half of the screen, the live feed updates. Back to real-time. The weather changes in an instant, from hazy sunshine to pouring rain.
"Dear lord," I hear Dr. C mutter, but I ignore him. I'm squinting at the screen. There's no sign of movement in the camera shot, but there's something different about the No Trespassing sign. It's smeared with mud. That wasn't there yesterday when we students went up to The Overlook to watch the search. I zoom in close to get a better view.
