Gone Read Online Free PDF Page A

said.
    "Probably checking email" But when he sat down at the table and looked at the screen, it was open to a Word document, not a browser.
    It was a diary, lust three paragraphs on the page.
    It happened again last night. I wish I could take this to G. But she'll think I'm crazy. I could lose my job. She'll think I'm on drugs. If I had a way to put cameras all over, I could get some proof But I have no proof and C's "mother" is rich and generous to CA. I'd be out the door. Even if I tell someone the whole truth, they'll just put me down as an overwrought mother
    Sooner or later, C or one of the others will do some-thing serious. Someone will get hurt. Just like S with T.
    Maybe VII confront c / don't think he'll confess. Would it make any difference if he knew everything?
    Sam stared ai the page. It hadn't been saved. Sam hunted around on the computer's desktop and found the folder labeled "Journal" He clicked on h. It was password protected. If his mother had saved this final page, it too would have been under a password.
    "CA" was easy. Coates Academy. And "G" was probably the head of the school, Grace. "S," too, was easy: Sam. But who was "C"?
    One line seemed to vibrate as he stared at it: "Just like S with T."
    Astrid was reading over his shoulder. She was trying to be subtle, but she was definitely peeking. He closed the laptop.
    "Let's go."
    "Where?" Quinn asked. "Anywhere but here," Sam said.

 
FOUR
    297 HOURS, 40 MINUTES
    "LET'S HEAD FOR the plaza" Sam said. He closed the door of his home behind him, locked it, and stuck the key in his jeans.
    "Why?" Quinn asked.
    "It's where people will probably go" Astrid said. "There's nowhere else, is there? Unless they go back to the school. If anyone knows anything, or if there are any adults, that's where they'd be"
    Perdido Beach occupied a headland southwest of the coastal highway. On the north side of the highway the hills rose sharply, dry brown and patchy green, and formed a series of ridges that ran into the sea northwest and southeast of town, limiting the town to just this space, confining it to just this bulge.
    There were just over three thousand residents in Perdido Beach—far fewer now. The nearest mall was in San Luis. The nearest major shopping center was down the coast twenty miles. North, up the coast, the mountains pressed so close to the sea that there was no space for building, except for the nanow strip where the nuclear power plant sat Beyond that was national parkland, a forest of ancient redwoods.
    Perdido Beach had remained a sleepy little town of straight, tree-lined streets and mostly older, Spanish-style stucco bungalows with sloped orange tile roots or old-style flat roofs. Most people had a Ia*vn they kept well-trimmed and green. Most people had a fenced backyard. In the tiny downtown, ringing the plaza, there were palm trees and plenty of angled parking spaces,
    Perdido Beach had a resort hotel south of town, and Coates Academy up in the hills, and the power plant, bui aside from that, only a smattering of businesses: the Ace hardware, the McDonald's, a coffee shop called Bean There, a Subway sandwich shop, a couple of convenience stores, one grocery store, and a Chevron station on the highway.
    The closer Sam and Astrid and Quinn got, the more kids they encountered walking towarc the plaza. It was like somehow all the kids in town had figured out that they wanted to be together. Strength in numbers. Or maybe it was just the crushing loneliness of homes thyt were suddenly not homey anymore.
    Half a block away, Sam smelted smoke and saw kids running.
    The plaza was a small open space, a sort of park with patches of grass and a fountain in the middle that almost never worked. There were benches and brick sidewalks and trash cans. Ar the top of the square the modest town hall and a church sat side by side. Stores ringed the plaza, some of them closed up forever. Above some of the stores were apartments. Smoke was pouring from z second-story window