hear him turn on the TV. âEven if I was getting paid, no amount of money would be worth this,â I mumbled to myself.
And then I opened the door to his room.
âWhoa! No amount!â I cringed and backed away.
From the living room, I could hear Ryan chuckling.
Forget the supply caddy. The best way to clean this place would be to just burn it down and start over. Iâd worn my boots to handle the snow, but I was grateful to have them on now as I stepped on fast-food wrappers and kicked a T-shirt aside. There was no telling what couldâve crawled up my pants leg.
âDo you have a laundry bag?â I called out the bedroom door. In a softer voice I added, âOr a blowtorch?â
I pulled on a pair of rubber gloves Iâd found in the cleaning caddy and started gathering clothes into a pile, picking them up from the floor or lifting them off various items. The only thing he hadnât used as a clothes rack was his computer.
I dropped the shoe I was holding.
Ryanâs computer.
When heâd filmed me with his phone, heâd no doubt transferred the video there so he could blur my face. That meant the copy showing my identity was on the hard drive! If I could access his computer, I could erase it and, if I was lucky, even remove it from his data cloud.
One step closer to regaining my freedom.
I tiptoed to his bedroom door and closed it, kicking a shirt underneath to jam it. Then I dropped the cleaning caddy and hurried to the computer, booting it up. The motor whirred and the login screen appeared.
âShoot,â I whispered.
His password could be almost anything, and I knew nothing about him. But there was also no way a kid who had an aunt like Sue could get away with total privacy.
I opened Ryanâs desk drawer and rifled through the papers and pencils and random Skittles inside. Nothing.
I bent to pick up a paper that had fallen when I saw something taped to the side of his computer.
âBingo,â I said, straightening up. I typed in what Iâd seen, and the computer finished its booting process. For just a second I paused to listen for any outside noises before searching through his recent files. âAha!â
I completely cleared the file off his computer and data cloud (thank you, auto login!). Then, for good measure, I also changed the password on his computer before powering it down. All I had left to do was get his phone from him.
I waded back across the room, opened thedoor, and called out, âHey, Ryan? All your spiders got loose.â
âWhat?â In less than a minute he was standing in the doorway. âWhatâd you do?â
His phone wasnât with him. Good sign.
I shrugged. âSorry. Iâll grab a second jar and some spider food. I think I saw a dead fly on the living room windowsill.â
I strolled casually out the door, but as soon as I was around the corner, I raced down to the living room. Ryanâs phone had been tossed aside on the couch.
âPlease no password, please no password,â I mumbled, picking it up.
As soon as I turned it on, I was in.
With a relieved sigh and a jackhammering heart, I clicked on his photo album.
There was the original video.
A fanfare played in my head as I deleted the video, followed by the roar of an imaginarycrowd. I stood a little taller and threw back my shoulders.
Nobody messed with Tim Antonides and got away with it.
âHey, Ryan? Iâve got some news for you!â I marched back to his room and found him sitting at his computer with a full jar of spiders.
âGeez!â I recoiled when he held them up.
âThe spiders are all here,â he said. âBut my desk is a mess.â
âThatâs because itâs part of your room,â I said.
Ryan placed the jar of spiders on the desk and swiveled in his chair to face me. âYou must think Iâm pretty stupid.â
âThat depends,â I said. âWhatâs the scale
Michael Dahl
Ray Bradbury
David Rollins
Kal Spriggs
CM Doporto
Emily Jenkins
Kawamata Chiaki
Candace Blevins
CA Morgan
Charles Martin