Running Out of Time by Margaret Peterson Haddix Read Free Book Online

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 walkthe 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 being seen or heard this time. Otherwise—Jessie didn’t let herself finish the thought.
    It seemed an eternity before Jessie reached a huge room at the end of the hall. Her ankles ached from the effort of tiptoeing. The whole hall slanted up ever so slightly; Jessie thought she might be at ground level by the end. Ma had explained that was how the tourist part of Clifton was designed—though she’d never been there, she remembered the diagrams when Clifton was first built. Ma said the big room was where tourists gathered during the day. Jessie peeked around the corner, hoping no one was in the room at night. But the guards were. They were sitting at a table at the far side of the enormous room. Coffee, Jessie remembered. They were drinking coffee.
    Jessie ducked back around the corner. Panic welled up in her. There was nowhere to hide now. All they had to do was walk this way and they’d see her.
    â€œâ€”heard they’re hiring over at Ryan Industries,” one guard was saying.
    â€œYeah? How much?”
    â€œNine dollars an hour.”
    The other man whistled.
    â€œWhat shift?”
    â€œSecond.”
    â€œYou applied?”
    â€œWilma wants me to. I’m going to look into it. Especially now they’re getting so picky here…. You’d think we were guarding a prison.”
    â€œWouldn’t you want out, if you was those people? ‘Sides, they never said we was supposed to look for escapees.”
    â€œWhat else we looking for? Ever heard of so many guards at a place like this?”
    â€œI don’t know…. Did I tell you? Jack said they’re going to close this place soon, anyhow. No more tourists, no more freaky people living in the past, no more paychecks for us.”
    â€œThat rumor’s been going around for years….”
    Jessie didn’t hear the other man’s answer. What did he mean, close the place? Why wouldn’t there be any more tourists? What would happen to everyone in Clifton? It was a puzzle Jessie didn’t have time to worry about. She stored the idea with all the mysterious things Ma had told her, to think about later. She risked another look around the corner. And then she saw it, not far along the wall in the opposite direction from the two men: a sign that said REST ROOMS , with an arrow.
    Jessie thought it was dark enough on that side of the room that they wouldn’t see her. And there were enough tables between her and them…. She decided to crawl.
    Strapping her package around her neck, Jessie crouched along the wall. Each motion took great nerve. She wished she’d stayed by the stagecoach. She wished Ma had pickedsomeone else to leave Clifton. Andrew, maybe. She wished Katie and the others had never gotten sick. She wished she’d never heard of the world outside Clifton. She wished Ma and Pa had never moved to Clifton, but stuck with whatever happened in the twentieth century.
    Wishing all that, Jessie