I peer round the side of the wheelie bin. Blue lights flash ominously in the distance. We’ve run, but not far enough. “Nope. Fuzz are still hanging around.” Continue reading Troubled Waters by Tess Makovesky
The body lay in a heap, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Odd angles, twisted limbs: it sprawled inside the old barn doorway where the shadows were at their blackest. Jed wouldn’t have seen it himself if Gwen hadn’t screamed the place down.