Read Running Out of Time for Free Online Page A

some kind of inside sun. Jessie suddenly wasn't so fond of the miracle globes of flameless light. She had to think fast. She was still in a dark area, but enough light shone in from the corridor that she
    could see the tinker's cart, a stagecoach, and a buggy like the one visiting politicians used. There were also hoes, rakes, and a wheelbarrow. Absently, Jessie realized that the tinker, the stagecoach driver, and the politicians must only pretend to live in the 1800s when they visited Clifton: This was where their Clifton things were stored. But that didn't matter now—where could she hide? Jessie saw a pile of burlap bags by the door. Was that the best place? Or was it the place the guards would look first?
    Jessie remembered a time she and Andrew had hidden under the stagecoach for a prank, planning to ride out a few miles before they jumped out and scared the passengers. They'd been found then, but the stagecoach looked like the best place to hide now.
    Moving quickly, Jessie dived under the stagecoach and crawled up by the wheel axles. She tucked her hair into the collar of her coat, afraid it would hang down and give her away. Clinging to the axle, she realized she'd left her package on the ground. She reached down for it just as the bright light burst into the room.
    "Well, I'll be—Ernie, someone left the storage room open," the guard said.
    "Maintenance always forgets," the other one said. "I had to lock it last night, too. But—what'd you hear?"
    "Who knows? Mice? Look around."
    Jessie heard the men pacing the large room. One kicked the pile of bags by the door, and Jessie was glad she hadn't hidden there. The other guard opened the doors of the stagecoach and buggy. By the stagecoach, his foot was close enough Jessie could have reached down and touched it. She
    held her breath. Her arms ached from clutching the axle, but she just tightened her grip. She couldn't be found. She couldn't. Why wouldn't the men leave?
    They pounded the wheelbarrow, kicked over the hoes and rakes. Jessie was sure her arms were going to give out. They began to tremble dangerously. Jessie felt dizzy from the lack of air, but was too scared to breathe.
    "Must have been mice," the first guard finally said.
    "They should put out traps. Or poison."
    "Yeah. Ready for coffee?"
    The light went out again, and the door slammed. Jessie heard the guards' footsteps echo down the corridor. She gulped in fresh air, but for a long time was afraid to let go of the axle. With the door shut and the lights out, the room was totally dark. But Jessie kept seeing awful visions of herself being caught. She almost had been. What would have happened to her? What would have happened to Katie and all the other children who needed her to get help?
    Finally Jessie's arms went numb and she dropped to the ground. She still crouched under the stagecoach, in case the men came back. Her ears roared from listening so hard to the silence. Was it safe to leave? Ma had said she should hide during the night in something called a rest room, which Ma described as an indoor outhouse. In the morning, when the tourists came in, Jessie could just walk out of the rest room like one of them. Jessie had thought how much easier the chore of emptying the chamber pots would be if she didn't have to go outdoors. But she had wondered how people could stand the smell of an outhouse inside.
    Now, all she could think about was how she'd have to walk
    the whole length of the corridor to get to the rest room. What if she just stayed under the stagecoach? But no—it would look suspicious if she was found in this room in the morning. And Ma knew a lot more about the outside world than Jessie did. This wasn't a good time to disobey.
    Reluctantly, Jessie crawled from under the stagecoach and inched toward the door. She listened at the door, heard nothing, then turned the knob. The door shut behind her and she knew it was locked, just like the first door. She had to get down the corridor without