The Keepers Read Online Free PDF

the store, Horace at her heels. At the very back, she pushed open a door marked STAFF ONLY . They plowed through a break room, where a plump middle-aged lady watched them pass with wide eyes, apparently too startled to say anything. “Sorry,” Horace mumbled. They burst through another door and out into a cramped, shadowed alleyway behind.
    The girl spun to face him, throwing her hood back to reveal long black hair. Her eyes bored into him, dark and intense. “Did he see you?”
    â€œI don’t know. I don’t think so.”
    â€œWere there any others? Like him?”
    She was a fast talker. It took a moment for the words to sink in. There were others like the thin man? “No, no way,” Horace said. It was an almost unthinkable thought.
    The girl leaned in, continuing to look him up and down. She was about Horace’s own age, but everything about her was fierce. Horace found himself taking a step back. Had he done the right thing, following her here? What did she want from him?
    â€œYou see him like I do,” the girl said. “The freak. Nobody else sees him like that.”
    â€œI definitely don’t know what you’re talking about,” Horace said.
    She scoffed. “Of course you do. You were hiding from him on the bus.”
    â€œNo I wasn’t.”
    â€œOh my god, you were. The question is, Why were you hiding?”
    But Horace couldn’t wrap his head around a sensible answer to that question, even if he’d wanted to trust this girl. He was hiding because a strange old lady in a secret curiosity shop had told him to, hiding because he didn’t know how a marble—even a mysterious one—was supposed to protect him. And protect him from what? Who was the thin man? What did he want? Horace’s fear and his frustration curdled into irritation. He straightened and frowned down at the girl. “Why are you hiding?” he fired back.
    â€œNo, no—you seem confused. I’m not hiding me, I’m hiding you. I was doing fine. I only led you back here because I want to know what’s up with you. I thought I was the only one.”
    â€œThe only one what?”
    She leaned back and squinted her eyes, measuring him. Then she said in an annoyingly patient tone, like she was talking to a child, “Look. You were the one running. There are only two reasons to be running like that: either you’re in a hurry to be somewhere, or you’re in a hurry to not be somewhere. And don’t tell me you’re late for an important meeting.”
    An important meeting—maybe. But he wasn’t about to mention the House of Answers. “No meeting. I’m not going anywhere.”
    â€œOh, wow. You’re a really bad liar. It sort of makes me not trust you.”
    Horace laughed. “That’s like . . . the opposite of—”
    â€œTell me again why I helped you?”
    â€œI have no idea,” Horace said, exasperated. “I didn’t even need help.” Of course this was not true, not at all. He’d been running blindly, terrified, and he’d followed her back here to apparent safety, to a place he’d never have come on his own.
    The girl gave a disappointed sigh, as if reading his mind. “I’m not feeling very appreciated. Is this how you always are?”
    That wasn’t even a fair question—nothing like this had ever happened to him before.
    The girl hitched up her small black backpack and pulled her hood over her head. “I’m going now,” she said. “Good luck with all your, um . . . not hiding. Maybe we could call it cowering?” She began to walk away.
    Cowering—a mean thing to say, even if she might be right.He didn’t think he liked this girl at all. “Hey, wait,” Horace called out. “That man. The thin man.” The girl turned and glared at him silently, walking backward now, her eyes deep and simmering. Horace