Free Night Runner by Max Turner

dressed in an overcoat and he had a cane in one hand. He turned around and saw me. For a split second we stared at one another. When he took two steps towards me, I noticed that he walked with a limp. And even though the sun was bright enough to melt my hair, I could see the scar under his eye. It was like a thick, pink stripe. His eyes widened for just an instant, and then they narrowed as we acknowledged one another.
    It was Everett Johansson. And he had the police with him.
    I slammed the door shut and backed away from it. My hands and face were hurting from the sunlight that had been bouncing offthe floor and walls. Ten seconds’ worth, maybe twenty, and already every inch of my exposed skin was covered in red spots.
    I started looking for my uncle’s business card. I couldn’t remember where I’d left it. As I was rummaging through my bedsheets, I realized it wasn’t going to do me any good. The only phone I could have used to call him was at the nurses’ station. The house phone in my room worked only inside the building. I was done for. The police were just outside the door, and I had nowhere to hide but under my bed. I was a little too big for that.
    I pushed the bed in front of the door and threw my chair on top for good measure. The door opened inward, so that would slow them down for a few seconds. But I had to find a way to hold out for at least a half hour or so. Then, once the sun was all the way down, I could run away. Or maybe I wouldn’t have to. My Uncle Maximilian had said he would be here. But the bad guys weren’t going to wait, and there wasn’t anything between us but a few inches of wood and a single bed. So I did what a lot of people do when they get into trouble and don’t have a clue what to do. I looked up.
    Footsteps were right outside my door now. I heard a knock.
    â€œZachary, are you in there?” The voice belonged to Nurse Roberta.
    â€œZachary,” said another voice. It sounded all crackly. “It’s the police. We know you’re in there. Please open up. We need to have a word with you.”
    The next knock was loud and hard.
    â€œI hope you’re decent,” Nurse Roberta said.
    I was too frightened to say anything. A few seconds later, someone tried to push the door. It opened just a crack before the bed got in the way. One of the police officers said something in a loud voice and tried to force the door while Nurse Roberta asked me to “Please open up” over and over again. A few seconds later they had pushed the bed back far enough that one of them could slide it completelyout of the way. The chair toppled to the floor. Everett Johansson was the first one in.
    â€œWhere is he?” I heard him say.
    But Nurse Roberta didn’t know. None of them did. I was gone.

Chapter 14
Emergency Exit
    P erhaps you don’t believe that I really am a vampire. It is a stretch, I’ll give you that. But if you do believe I am a vampire, well, you can’t be a numbskull about it, either. I’m not a storybook vampire like Count Dracula. I can’t do supernatural. My escape wasn’t all that impressive. Check the ceiling of your school someday. Or an office. If it’s like mine, it’s really a false ceiling. It’s made of rectangular foam tiles that sit on a plastic frame. You can poke them up with a broom. Up above, you’ll find the plumbing and ducts for heating that run every which way.
    That’s it. That’s how I got out. I just stood on my desk, pushed up the tile, slid it backwards, jumped up and grabbed one of the black pipes hanging overhead. Then I pulled myself up and slid the tile back in place underneath me.
Ta-dah
!
    Are you impressed? Maybe not. But I tell you, it was awfully nerve-racking hanging there, hoping the police would leave.
    Everett Johansson was furious. “Where did he go?” he asked again.
    â€œI don’t know,” the nurse answered.