The Rescue Read Online Free PDF Page B

paper. Poor kid. What were they doing giving him the same work as the rest of us? He was at least three years younger than anyone else here. The Spanish kids were all bent over their papers, though I could see Mig and one of the girls passing each other notes when Don wasn’t looking.
    Ketty and Dylan both appeared to be working too. So was Nico. No, wait, he wasn’t really looking at the history information at all. He was staring into space, gently nodding his head. I peered under the table. A trailing wire led from a tiny MP3 player on his lap, into his shirt.
    I prodded his arm and caught his eye.
    What are you doing?
    Camila lent me her player. Dunno how she managed to hang on to it, but some of it’s cool.
    How typical was that? I rolled my eyes and broke the connection before Dom noticed us staring at each other. He’d already given Dylan a demerit for complaining about having to do maths.
    Eventually the session ended. As we left the room I caught up with Ketty.
    ‘Have you ever done anything more boring in your life?’ I said.
    ‘I know,’ she whispered.
    We headed to the kitchen where Cindy organised us into a sandwich-making line. We ate outside in the shade. Except for Dylan, whose demerit punishment, it turned out, was to spend her lunch break sorting out some of the junk in the barn.
    It was blisteringly hot – with virtually no breeze. My shirt was soaked with sweat in minutes. I only had one T-shirt left.
    ‘Permission to speak,’ I said.
    ‘Granted,’ Cindy barked.
    ‘How do we clean our clothes?’ I asked.
    Behind me, Nico sniggered. ‘Go, Chino Boy,’ he whispered too quietly for Cindy to hear.
    ‘You and Camila are on laundry duty this afternoon,’ she said. ‘You’ll see how it works then.’
    After lunch we did two more hours of ultra-boring lessons, then went on to afternoon chores. This time Dylan and Nico were both included in kitchen duty, while Ketty was sent to the barn to sand and paint some old chairs with Mig, Mat and Tommy.
    ‘It’s one of the things the camp does,’ Tommy explained. ‘Fixing up furniture then selling it on to junk shops.’
    I trudged off to the laundry area – next to the kitchen – with Camila, who kept asking annoying questions about Nico such as where he was from and what kind of music he liked and if he had a girlfriend. I told her I hardly knew him and worked on in silence.
    Water was heavily rationed, so we were limited to one bowl of soapy lukewarm water for washing everyone’s clothes and one bowl for rinsing.
    It was yet more tiring work. I was relieved to finish and eat dinner – a meat stew with potatoes. After dinner there were more chores. This time I was in the kitchen, washing up all the plates and bowls and pans from the meal. By the time I’d finished, my hands were red and raw from the water – and my whole body ached.
    We were in our dorms at 8 p.m. and Senor Fernandez came to switch off the light at 9 p.m. I could hear the others whispering as I fell into another troubled half-sleep – where images of Luz mingled with worries about Mum and Dad. Sandra’s really my stepmum, but I call her Mum. Dad married her after my real mum died when I was four and my sister, Amy, was just a year old. Dad and Sandra went on and had another girl, Kim, so I guess we’re quite a big family now.
    Anyway, camp had been so busy during the day I hadn’t had time to think about any of my family, but as I drifted off to sleep, I wondered how they were and whether they were thinking about me. If only I could have spoken to them, but the only phone was in Senor Fernandez’ office and we were forbidden from using it. For the first time I wondered if it might be possible to mind-read at a distance – real telepathy – but I had no idea how to even start to do that.
    The next day passed in a similar way. And the one after that – a constant sucession of physically demanding labour and mentally unstimulating schoolwork where thoughts of Luz crept,