Buried Read Online Free Page A

me out. I don’t need this stress. My life has more than enough already since moving here (thank you very much, Mom!). For the first time ever, my two brothers and three sisters and I united in protest. None of us wanted to move. But it was useless. Dad’s unemployment checks were running out, so when Mom got the offer to be the minister of a small church in Nevada Bluff—a job that came with a large farmhouse, rent-free—she accepted without even holding a family meeting.
    Sucks, but I’ve adjusted. Still, the last thing I need is a tacky necklace messing with my head.
    Up close, the old gym looks less mysterious and more old and pathetic. When I glance at my clock-ring, I debate whether or not to go back to class. Twelve of my ten minutes are up. Trouble is no longer an option but a foregone
conclusion.
    There’s nothing exciting here, so I start back. But I only take a few steps before something clangs, like metal smashing against a wall. Then a blood-curdling cry comes from inside the gym.
    At first I think the gym really is haunted—until I hear a very human voice shout “Help!”
    Gritting my teeth, I think of all the times I’ve been sucked into other people’s problems. I don’t want to get involved. But when a thundering crash echoes so loudly I nearly jump out of my army boots, I stare at the gym: its busted windows, sagging timbers, and peeling paint. My heart races as I imagine someone trapped inside.
    How can I just walk away?
    I creep up to a rusted door that’s hanging off its hinges. Leaning forward, I peer into gloomy darkness. Light streams down through holes in the ceiling, but I can’t see more than vague shapes of old furniture and what might have once been bathroom stalls.
    I hear “Help!” again and squeeze through the half-open door. Dust stirs under my shoes and my nose itches like I’m going to sneeze. The air stinks with decay and foul smells that make me think of dead things.
    Up ahead, a wall of silver gleams. Not a wall, I realize as I walk toward it, but a towering steel cage for gym equipment. Only instead of sports equipment, there’s a guy locked inside!
    Before I can help, I sense movement from a side corridor: a tall shadowy figure swathed in black jeans, boots, a long dark coat, and a black knit ski mask with eye slits. He looks so surreal that at first I think he’s a ghost who will float through me. But he radiates a powerful confidence that’s totally human.
    He swivels, slowly, his piercing black eyes fixed on me like a hunter sighting his rifle on his prey.
    I would have preferred a ghost.

T h r e e
    I spin around and run like crazy across the dusty floor,
back through the half-hinged door and outside. Gulping fresh air, I don’t stop to look behind me when I hear a shout and pounding footsteps. If I can just get down the hill and back to school, then I’ll be safe and can get help for the kid trapped inside the equipment cage.
    The footsteps come closer. I hear my pursuer’s heavy breaths.
    Hurry, hurry! I urge myself.
    I’m nearly to the downhill stretch of smoother terrain when I stumble over a rock. My feet fly out from beneath me. I’m falling, falling—until a strong gloved hand grabs my arm. Jerked around, I face hostile black eyes.
    â€œWho the hell are you?” Masked Guy demands in a deep but young voice. It sounds like he’s my age.
    â€œWho’s asking?” I try to break free but his grip is steel.
    â€œIf you haven’t figured it out yet, you will soon. You’re one of those goths—the new girl.” It wasn’t a question; more of an accusation. “What are you doing here?”
    Despite the sweat trickling down my back, I keep my voice calm like I’m lacking the fear gene. “I’d ask you that question, except I don’t care enough.”
    â€œYou’re off-campus in a restricted area. Why?” A gust of wind flaps