There’s No Place Like Home - Michael Robertson Page 0,56

be somewhere safe, somewhere where people would be able to look out for him. Yeah right! Lola had spoken the truth when she said safety didn't exist. No one could be trusted. Maybe his mum had the right idea. Maybe safety could only be found in death.

***

How long it took, Michael couldn’t even guess, but the crying outside finally stopped. He removed his fingers from his ears and rolled over onto his back.

Every surface in the room was exposed concrete. The ceiling, the walls, the floor…

After a series of small adjustments, each one to shift away from a particularly uncomfortable spring, Michael exhaled hard and his left arm slipped out of the bed. On the way down, it caught the frame, stinging his knuckles. Despite the throb on the back of his hand, it was the twanging sound that got Michael’s attention.

Michael leaned out of the bed. A lump of wood ran the length of the frame down one side—a decorative baton no thicker than a pool cue, and definitely not as strong. But maybe strong enough? When he tugged at it, it stretched away from the frame by a few inches. When he let it go, it snapped back against the bed with a loud crack.

He tugged it again, a little harder this time. The gradual sound of splintering wood made him tense and he watched the door. Could anyone hear him?

With one final sharp tug, the baton came free.

Crack!

Michael held his breath and listened as he stared at the piece of wood. The baton was about the length of his arm. He looked at the back of the door again. Someone had to have heard him!

After waiting for a minute or so, no one came, so Michael turned the baton over and examined it. It was big enough to swing at a guard and give him the advantage when he needed it.

As he pulled it into his chest, he listened to the silence around him. It was big enough.

Attack

Michael woke up on full alert and looked at the door. The sounds of movement on the other side had roused him. He gripped the baton with both hands and pulled it back into his chest. His beating heart tapped against the back of his thumbs. If he could get away now, he’d be free. The next stop was Julius’ room, and he couldn’t end up there. No way!

When Michael rolled off the bed, the springs jabbed his skinny form, but he kept his attention on the door.

The dark wooden doorknob twitched as someone touched it on the other side. Then it twisted slowly, letting out a dry rasp as it turned. They obviously still thought they had the element of surprise on their side.

With few places to hide, Michael made his way over to the wall next to the door and pressed his back against it. He looked down to his right as the handle continued turning.

When the door popped free of the frame, Michael pushed himself harder into the wall and held his breath, his heart galloping.

The door opened into the room. A large hand still gripped the handle.

Michael shook. His throat dried.

The door then flew wide and the man darted in behind it, a baseball bat raised. He lowered his bat and stared at the empty bed. “Huh?”

Before he could say anything else, Michael lunged forward and brought the baton down on the back of the man’s head. It connected with a hollow crack.

The vibration ran all the way up the baton and Michael’s arm went weak. It sounded like he’d hit a coconut.

Unable to move, he watched the guard stumble and fall to one knee. His large hand reached up and felt the point on his head where Michael had hit him.

Michael clenched his jaw and wound back for another blow. While yelling out, he swung at the man again, the baton connecting with his temple with another nauseating crack.

The guard sprawled sideways. As he fell, he dropped his baseball bat and by the time he’d hit the ground, the weapon had rolled away from him.

Michael hadn’t thought to check right away, but when he glanced through the open doorway, he saw the corridor was empty. Thank god he’d come alone. Although the guard barely moved, he was still breathing. Grief buckled Michael’s face as he looked down at the fallen man. “I’m not going to see Julius. I’m not.”

He swung for the guard again, the gruesome and bloody mess disappearing behind the haze of his