stronger than ginger ale.”
“When does the freshman Clock Tower Challenge officially end?”
“Midnight tonight.” His voice fell to a secret whisper. “No one made it this year. Are you suggesting…it will be dark.”
“Climbing is mostly by feel anyway, and I think there are some floodlights.”
“Are you saying…?” Dalton paused, let out a muffled whoop of excitement. “I’m just sitting here on my own. No one will take any notice if I leave. If you’re sure, I’m up for it.”
“Get your gear and meet me in the parking lot outside your dorm. I’m on my way over.”
“Cat, you’re the best stepmother a boy could have. I’ll go get my rock boots.”
Cat’s lips curved into a tight smile as she pressed the button to end the call.
Brock Leonetti would find out what it was like to be chased.
****
“Do it again.” Cat shook her arms to ease her cramping muscles while she watched Dalton leap and windmill in front of the alarm sensor on the wall.
“The damn thing’s not working,” he said in a growl. “What do we do?”
“We’ll carry on to the top. There must be another alarm by the clock.”
Cat tipped her head back and surveyed the brickwork on the tower in front of her. They had made it without incident to the flat roof of the main building, where climbers normally triggered the alarm. The Clock Tower Challenge was to make it up to the top in the time it took for the law to arrive. According to the rules, the climbers had to stop when the sheriff or one of his deputies stepped out of their vehicle.
“We’ll be disqualified,” Dalton said. “We’ll get to the top, but there’ll be no time pressure.
“We can’t be sure,” Cat protested. Although the darkness covered them, occasionally a car drove by, and she kept her voice down. “Even if the alarm isn’t going off, it might have sent a signal to a dispatcher.”
She started up ahead of Dalton. Her hands crept over the brickwork, finding tiny cracks for her fingers to slip inside, giving just enough purchase to hoist her weight up to the next foothold, where her rubber-soled boots clung to the small ridges in the vertical surface.
“Are you okay?” she called down to Dalton.
“Cakewalk,” he answered. “Hurry up. I want that ledge for my handhold.”
The application of skill and balance and strength pumped a sense of triumph through her body and mind. There had been no signs of Brock or one of his deputies by the time they reached the open chamber at the top of the clock tower. Breathing heavily, Cat flopped inside.
“Where’s the alarm?” Dalton circled the small square room.
“There.” She pointed to the infrared sensor on the wall.
“It’s not blinking.” Dalton moved his hand side to side in front of the small plastic box. “The fucking thing’s broken.”
Cat frowned at him. “Don’t use that word.”
“Why not?” Dalton complained. “Don’t you realize? Unless you’re prepared to down-climb, we’ll be stuck here until morning.” His face clouded. “Shit, if no one comes within shouting distance, we might be stuck here until Monday morning when people arrive for work.”
“I hate down-climbing,” Cat said. “Much too dangerous in the dark.”
“So, what the heck do we do?”
The night chill wrapped around them. Cat surveyed their surroundings. No source of heat, no toilet, no food, only limited shelter. “Try the trapdoor,” she told him.
Dalton crouched by the wooden square in the floor that provided access to the staircase inside the tower. “I don’t need to try. You can see it’s padlocked.”
“Try it anyway.”
She waited while Dalton yanked the metal ring that served as a handle.
“It won’t even budge. Shit. I’ve arranged to go down to the shore tomorrow with Marybeth’s family. They want to leave at seven. We’ve got to get out of here.”
Cat took out her cell phone from the zippered pocket on the front of her top. A crack ran along the plastic casing,
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