Stand Alone Read Online Free PDF Page A

Justine had disabled the location broadcasting on her phone. Em had bought her the phone, thinking that she’d be able to use it to track Justine’s movements. What was she, stupid? Every teenager knew that trick. Yet parents still insisted on trying. Some students left their location tracking on when they were at school or places they were supposed to be, only turning it off on rare occasions when they needed to escape, claiming GPS blind spots when questioned about it. Justine couldn’t be bothered. She just turned it off.
    After the call went to voicemail—unfortunately Justine’s voicemail box had already been filled with Em’s other messages, and Em wouldn’t be able to leave a new one—Justine swiped it on. She opened up a power draining app; a program that was handy when you wanted to condition your battery. She started a discharge cycle, and sat and watched the meter getting lower and lower until the power blacked out.
    So sorry, Em, my battery died.
    She laid back down on the floor, and closed her eyes, visualizing how she wanted the room to look. As the room darkened, she fell asleep.

    Justine had restless dreams, always reaching for what she could never grasp. She awoke a few times, growing cold and uncomfortable on the floor. But she just closed her eyes again, visualizing her house, the house as it should look in her imagination, and went back to sleep.
    She awoke with a start to the sound of the back door being opened. Justine rolled over sleepily and tried to orient herself and figure out what was going on. She was in an empty house. The room was dark, just a little light coming in through the cracks in the blinds from the street light outside. There was somebody else there. Somebody had just come into the house. Forcing herself to move, to prepare to escape or protect herself, Justine slid across the floor to the wall, staying low and in the darkest shadows. Footsteps moved through the kitchen toward her. A flashlight played along the floor, occasionally flashing off of the walls or in another direction as the burglar explored the house. Justine pressed herself into the wall, trying to avoid the flashlight. If the beam of light caught her    …
    There was the garbled murmur of a radio. Justine honed in on it, frowning to herself. A burglar with a walkie talkie? Did he have a partner outside? She had been planning on slipping out behind him, if given the chance, but maybe she should brave the front door instead. The burglar’s partner might be out the back door waiting for her. As the man came through the doorway to the living room, he was momentarily silhouetted against the kitchen window, and Justine could see him cock his head toward his shoulder as he pressed the button on his walkie-talkie and reported something back. She froze, watching him. Just what kind of prowler was this?
    He swept the flashlight around the room, and Justine’s momentary hesitation did her in.
    “Freeze right there!” the dark figure commanded.
    Justine stayed frozen. He shone the flashlight directly in her face.
    “Who are you? What are you doing in this house?” he demanded, moving toward her.
    Justine didn’t answer, squinting her eyes and trying to see him in spite of the blinding light.
    “What are you, a cop?” she questioned, just able to make out a uniform.
    He was close to her now, and he grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face the wall.
    “Hands on the wall,” he ordered, pushing Justine forward off-balance so that she was forced to catch herself with both hands on the wall. With one hand, he kept pushing the small of her back, keeping her against the wall, and with the other he checked her pockets, tossing everything in them on the floor. Then he pulled her back, pulling her arms down and behind her back and securing her with a pair of handcuffs.
    “Are you police?” Justine repeated.
    “Security,” he told her. “Police are on their way.”
    He shone the flashlight in her face