her voice shaking.
“You sure?”
She nodded and Boy lifted his head up over the rim of concrete.
“I can’t remember what your Dad looks like,” he whispered, returning quickly to her side.
“He’s tall for a Dad, has reddish brown hair, wears glasses,” she said, spurting out words to fill in her father.
“Well in that case I think I saw him,” Boy smiled.
“You what…you mean…what do you mean think!?” Violet stammered, quickly peering up over the ledge.
The room beyond the window was different to the others on the estate. Firstly it didn’t have rows of planted eyes. Instead it was filled with glass boxes sitting on top of shiny steel tables. Each box held a small red light and under the light rested a solitary eye. There were about six boxes that hugged the edges of the room. In the centre of the space was another table; this one too was shiny steel and filled with piles of papers that streamed onto the floor. A white board crowded with calculations filled the back wall. To the left of it stood a man in a white coat.
“Dad,” Violet gasped.
It was him. He’d lost weight; his eyes, underlined by half moon shadows, bulged out from sunken cheeks. He looked sad and lonely. Her Dad had always been strong. Anger filled her bones. She wanted to kill the Archers for what they’d done. She was about to knock on the murky glass when something moved in the corner of the room. She ducked down just as Edward Archer walked past inside.
“Edward Archer! He’s in there with my Dad. We have to do something!”
“I don’t know Violet,” Boy said desperately, “I can’t think. It must be the stuff George used to knock me out. My head’s cloudy.”
“Please Boy. We have to get him out.”
“Look, can we get out of here? Just for a bit. If we get some rest we’ll be able to think and come up with a plan. If we rush in now we’ll get caught.”
“No!” Violet snapped a little too loudly.
“Come on. Your Dad’s been there a while, a little longer won’t do any harm. If we go in without a plan we’ll get caught and then who’s going to rescue any of us?”
“No Boy. We have to do something now,” Violet demanded.
“Violet please be quiet. Edward Archer’s just in there.”
“You don’t want me to get my Dad. That’s what wrong with you. Just ‘cause you have no parents…”
“What did you say?”
Violet turned her back on her friend. Boy remained under the sill for a minute then without speaking, crawled down the garden and out onto the road. Violet didn’t look around. She didn’t need Boy. She was fine on her own. Shakily she made her way round the side of the house.
It was weird without him, scarier, but she had to forget her fear. Her Dad needed her. She walked to the back garden and looked at the windows. They all had glass, that plan was a no go. She tiptoed to the other side of the house. There was a narrow pathway separating this home from its neighbours.
The path was pitch black. She felt her way by the wall and about halfway down she came across a door. There was a faint sound over her shoulder. She looked round but couldn’t see anything in the darkness. She was about to grab the handle when she froze. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.
“Well look what I caught,” a Watcher whispered into her ear.
Violet turned quickly, her heart pounding. His arms rested either side of the doorway blocking her escape. She tried to dash under one but the Watcher was too quick and grabbed her shirt pulling her out onto the path.
“Well won’t I be Mr. Edward’s favourite,” he laughed, shining a torch directly into her eyes.
She kicked and wriggled but couldn’t get free.
“DUCK” somebody suddenly yelled.
It was Boy. Violet quickly ducked dow n as a large rock whizzed past landing smack on the bridge of the Watcher’s nose. He fell to the ground roaring in pain. Boy grabbed Violet’s hand and they raced down the front garden.
As they reached the park
“You sure?”
She nodded and Boy lifted his head up over the rim of concrete.
“I can’t remember what your Dad looks like,” he whispered, returning quickly to her side.
“He’s tall for a Dad, has reddish brown hair, wears glasses,” she said, spurting out words to fill in her father.
“Well in that case I think I saw him,” Boy smiled.
“You what…you mean…what do you mean think!?” Violet stammered, quickly peering up over the ledge.
The room beyond the window was different to the others on the estate. Firstly it didn’t have rows of planted eyes. Instead it was filled with glass boxes sitting on top of shiny steel tables. Each box held a small red light and under the light rested a solitary eye. There were about six boxes that hugged the edges of the room. In the centre of the space was another table; this one too was shiny steel and filled with piles of papers that streamed onto the floor. A white board crowded with calculations filled the back wall. To the left of it stood a man in a white coat.
“Dad,” Violet gasped.
It was him. He’d lost weight; his eyes, underlined by half moon shadows, bulged out from sunken cheeks. He looked sad and lonely. Her Dad had always been strong. Anger filled her bones. She wanted to kill the Archers for what they’d done. She was about to knock on the murky glass when something moved in the corner of the room. She ducked down just as Edward Archer walked past inside.
“Edward Archer! He’s in there with my Dad. We have to do something!”
“I don’t know Violet,” Boy said desperately, “I can’t think. It must be the stuff George used to knock me out. My head’s cloudy.”
“Please Boy. We have to get him out.”
“Look, can we get out of here? Just for a bit. If we get some rest we’ll be able to think and come up with a plan. If we rush in now we’ll get caught.”
“No!” Violet snapped a little too loudly.
“Come on. Your Dad’s been there a while, a little longer won’t do any harm. If we go in without a plan we’ll get caught and then who’s going to rescue any of us?”
“No Boy. We have to do something now,” Violet demanded.
“Violet please be quiet. Edward Archer’s just in there.”
“You don’t want me to get my Dad. That’s what wrong with you. Just ‘cause you have no parents…”
“What did you say?”
Violet turned her back on her friend. Boy remained under the sill for a minute then without speaking, crawled down the garden and out onto the road. Violet didn’t look around. She didn’t need Boy. She was fine on her own. Shakily she made her way round the side of the house.
It was weird without him, scarier, but she had to forget her fear. Her Dad needed her. She walked to the back garden and looked at the windows. They all had glass, that plan was a no go. She tiptoed to the other side of the house. There was a narrow pathway separating this home from its neighbours.
The path was pitch black. She felt her way by the wall and about halfway down she came across a door. There was a faint sound over her shoulder. She looked round but couldn’t see anything in the darkness. She was about to grab the handle when she froze. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.
“Well look what I caught,” a Watcher whispered into her ear.
Violet turned quickly, her heart pounding. His arms rested either side of the doorway blocking her escape. She tried to dash under one but the Watcher was too quick and grabbed her shirt pulling her out onto the path.
“Well won’t I be Mr. Edward’s favourite,” he laughed, shining a torch directly into her eyes.
She kicked and wriggled but couldn’t get free.
“DUCK” somebody suddenly yelled.
It was Boy. Violet quickly ducked dow n as a large rock whizzed past landing smack on the bridge of the Watcher’s nose. He fell to the ground roaring in pain. Boy grabbed Violet’s hand and they raced down the front garden.
As they reached the park
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