Nightmare Academy Read Online Free PDF Page A

the same age, with black, stringy hair, wearing a khaki jacket, jeans with holes in the knees, and a second-hand wool cap. Her only luxury was a pair of headphones, apparently her way of shutting out the outside world. They spoke little, but curled up against the exhaust-blackened marble of the old publishing firm, trying to share the same precious piece of ground without getting too close or too friendly.
    Across the street and up half a block, in the doorway of a bygone brewery, a tired old vagrant relaxed on the concrete steps, his back against the bricks, just watching the never-stopping traffic. He coughed, pulled the collar of his old coat closer around his face, and spoke in a quiet voice, “Are you warm enough?”
    Down the street, the girl heard the question through her headphones and called softly to the boy, “Dad wants to know if we're warm enough.”
    â€œPlenty,” said the boy.
    â€œWe're fine,” she spoke to the air.
    â€œFine and bored,” the boy added. “Except for that panhandler, we haven't found anyone to talk to. Things were better last night.”
    â€œDo you think we should try somewhere else?” Elisha asked.
    The vagrant spoke into his collar, “How does it look to you, Sarah?”
    At the other end of the block, in the back of a large van, Sarah sat before an impressive bench of electronic gear and radio receivers, monitoring the conversation, a headset to her ear. “We might try under the overpass again. The people at the youth shelter say a lot of runaway kids congregate there on the weekends after it gets late.”
    Elisha passed the word along.
    Elijah looked at his watch. “It's 11:07 and 40 seconds.”
    Elisha smiled. Her brother was proud of his extremely accurate watch. “I think it's getting late.”
    Nate responded, “Are you kids ready for another night under the overpass?”
    Elisha made a face despite herself. “Working on it.” She told her brother, “They're talking about another night under the over­pass.”
    â€œWell, hopefully we'll meet a different bunch,” Elijah offered, “somebody who might know something.”
    â€œIt's just hard to—Whoa, just a minute. Somebody's coming.”
    Elijah tried to look without looking. He saw her, too. “I think she's looking at us.”
    While Elijah and Elisha acted indifferent and preoccupied, Nate could see the woman they were referring to. She was a young and pretty redhead, and obviously not a runaway or vagrant; she was dressed casually, but dressed well in dark slacks, woolly red sweater, light jacket, and pricey running shoes.
    â€œShe's looking at us, all right,” Elisha reported.
    â€œHi,” said the woman, and Nate and Sarah could hear her voice over their kids' radios.
    â€œHi,” Elisha responded in the dull tone of a glum, leave-me-alone teenager.
    The woman knelt down to Elisha's eye level, and offered a business card. “I'm Margaret Jones. I work with the Light of Day Youth Shelter, just a few blocks from here.” She looked toward Elijah. “Is he with you?”
    Elisha shot her brother a sideways glance and shrugged. “I don't know. He's just sitting there and I'm sitting here.”
    She addressed both of them. “Well, if you need a place to stay tonight, we have rooms. We'll give you a good hot meal, a shower if you like, and your own room with your own bed, no questions asked.”
    Elijah asked, “What's the catch?”
    â€œNo catch. We're a charitable organization, we've been working the streets for nine years, and all we really want to do is get you off the street where you'll be safe and have some shelter.”
    Elijah, staying in character, gave a cynical sneer. “You're not the Living Way Youth Shelter? We've already been there.”
    The woman laughed apologetically and added, “No, no, we're somebody else, just a bunch of do-gooders, trying to help kids