Last Stop Read Online Free PDF Page B

there with you.”
    We took the subrail. The phantom station was as empty and dark as usual.
    Thirty-seven Bond was a rundown apartment building, close to the river. A rusted fire escape zigzagged down the front of it, and a few garbage cans stood empty on the sidewalk.
    Near the front door was a list of names and apartment numbers, each next to its own black push button—just like my building, where you ring a buzzer to someone’s apartment and that person buzzes you inside.
    Right away we spotted M. RUCKMAN 3E.
    Heather pressed his buzzer, then raised an eyebrow. “Comic book store, huh?” she said slyly.
    “Uh, well, I’ll just see if he answers,” I said. “Then I’ll go.”
    We waited a few moments, then Heather pressed again.
    “No one home,” I said.
    “Guess I’ll have to go inside and wait by his apartment door.” Heather began pressing all the buttons on the board.
    “Hey!” I protested. “What are you—?”
    BZZZZZZZZ!
    Heather pushed the door and it swung open.
    “See? If you buzz them all, someone’s bound to let you in,” she said. “Coming?”
    I followed Heather into a dark hallway with a worn-out tile floor. The air was stuffy and smelled of fried food. At the end of the hallway, we climbed a dark, lopsided stairway, passing gray windows that were permanently shut by years of caked paint.
    Apartment 3E was at the end of a long, narrow hallway. At the other end, the doors to apartments 3A and 3B faced each other in a small alcove. We could hide there, unseen by Miles Ruckman when he returned.
    “What if he’s gone for the whole day?” I whispered. “Or the weekend?”
    Heather shrugged. “We come back another time.”
    “How long do we stay?”
    “Until we get bored.”
    I sighed. “I don’t know why I agreed to do this—”
    “Then go to the comic book store!”
    Click.
    We both shut up.
    The noise came from down the hall. A doorknob.
    Heather and I peeked around the alcove wall.
    A door was opening. The door to apartment 3E.
    The breath caught in my throat. Heather’s eyes were bulging.
    A stoop-shouldered figure pushed out into the hallway, wearing a long, tattered overcoat.
    I caught a glimpse of the person’s face as he turned, before I ducked back into the alcove.
    “Oh my God,” I said under my breath.
    “Isn’t that— ?” Heather whispered.
    I nodded. “Anders.”

Why now?
    Why not?

10
    “W HAT’S HE DOING THERE?” Heather hissed.
    “You’re asking me?” I hissed back.
    “Did he see us?”
    “Sssshhh!”
    Shhhhip … shhhip…shhhip…
    Anders’s shoes were scraping the linoleum floor. Coming closer.
    My breathing stopped. Heather shrank deeper into the shadows.
    Shhhhip.
    Anders was just outside the alcove now. Inches away. I could hear him muttering to himself. Indistinct words. Growls.
    Then… Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
    He was going downstairs.
    I thought my lungs would explode. I let out a whoosh of breath.
    Neither Heather nor I moved until we heard the front door of the apartment building open and shut.
    “He’s a burglar!” Heather said.
    I shook my head. “It’s broad daylight. Maybe he has a key. Maybe he’s a friend of Miles Ruckman.”
    “A friend of Miles Ruckman, a friend of your dad…could there possibly be a connection?”
    “Don’t start, Heather,” I said, heading out of the alcove. “Just don’t start.”
    “You have to admit, it’s strange. Don’t deny it!”
    I began walking downstairs. I was in no mood for Heather’s crazy theories. I was not going to listen.
    But I was not going to deny it, either. Something awfully weird was going on.
    “I’m home!” I shouted as I entered our apartment.
    The door slammed behind me. I flung my backpack into the living room.
    I was still thinking about Anders, so I almost didn’t notice the change in the front hallway.
    The wall was empty. All the photos were gone, leaving faded rectangles.
    “Where were you?” Mom stormed in from her bedroom. “I thought I told