Don't Look Behind You (Don't Look Series Book 1) by Emily Kazmierski (summer reads .txt) 📗

water spurts into the pipe leading toward the field, dowsing the ground in water. But I don’t know if it will be enough to stop the burning tide moving across one corner of the maze.

The fire department arrived quickly. It was dumb luck that they were doing a drill in an abandoned barn nearby and saw the smoke.

Esau and I stand off to one side, watching as they put out the fire with expert teamwork. I’m shaking with adrenaline, watching with rapt attention.

Once it’s done, the firefighter in charge comes over to us. “You two okay?”

We nod.

“How’s the maze?” Esau asks, looking past the man toward the blackened corner of the field.

“Far as we can tell, it didn’t get far enough to burn into any of the cut paths. Lucky we were close by. If we’d gotten here any later, the entire field would have gone up. Quick thinking, turning the irrigation back on. Looks like you’ll be able to open as planned on Friday, and I’m glad. My kids look forward to opening night every year.”

Esau gives him a customer service smile. “Us too. How’d the, uh, fire start?”

The firefighter shrugs. “Don’t know yet.”

With a pat on Esau’s shoulder and a nod to me, the man moves toward where the rest of his crew are working around the fire engine.

An EMT approaches us. “Are either of you hurt? Need looking over?” She leaves when we insist we’re fine.

“Come on then. I’ll take you home.” Esau slings an arm around me and steers me toward where his pickup is parked in the dirt. “You look like you could use something cold to drink.”

I stick close to him even though he’s filthy from using an irrigation hose to hold back the flames until help arrived. As we pick our way to where the truck is parked, I take one more glance over my shoulder at the maze. From out here it looks like an ordinary, harmless field of growing plants. But when I was in its heart, alone? It didn’t feel benign. It felt like I wasn’t alone. Like someone was watching me. Waiting for the opportune moment to slash my throat.

And then the fire started.

Chapter 33

Esau glances over to make sure I’m buckled in before he starts the truck. Gravel crunches under the tires as he pulls on to the street.

I sigh, relaxing into the bench seat. Today, being near Esau as he moved through the fields, quiet purposefulness emitting from his every muscle and bone, it was exactly what I needed. Never mind that Aunt Karen will be livid about me sneaking out again. Plus, the fact that I could have been burned to a crisp.

A truck I recognize turns into the road ahead of us. Justin’s. I thought I’d slipped past him, but he must have followed me to the empty lot where I met Esau, and then on to the farm. Did he see how the fire began? If he saw Esau and I leaving, did he decide to get a head start? It doesn’t make sense. My finger lingers over the call button on my phone, just in case I need to call Aunt Karen.

Instead of turning down the road that leads to home, Justin’s truck leads farther away from town. My chest squeezes when the truck pulls off the road into a stand of trees near the Lopez’s driveway. Fear flaps its scraping wings along my insides. Did something happen to Noah and his family?

My heart stills under my sternum. “Pull over,” I hiss, tugging at Esau’s elbow. The truck’s wheel jerks under his hands.

“Careful,” he commands even as his hands move to heed mine.

My focus is locked on his dark, hooded figure as it moves quietly through the trees toward Noah’s house. If I didn’t know what Justin’s truck looked like, I wouldn’t know it was him. He takes careful steps, swinging low-hanging branches out of the way with ease. It’s clear that he’s had practice moving around without being detected.

My stomach drops. If he left me to come here, there can only be one reason. He must have gotten a call from Aunt Karen telling him to come over here. What if it’s already too late to stop whatever bloody tragedy that’s playing out inside Noah’s house?

Esau parks his truck far enough away that Justin doesn’t notice. Instead, the man is careful as his figure fades into the dusk between the eucalyptus trees.

“This is getting strange,” Esau says, swinging his gaze toward me. “Who is that?”

“Shh.” Pushing open the door, I slide down, praying my cute but impractical shoes are quiet over the gravel.

The hooded figure has disappeared. I can’t see him at all. Hopefully that means he can’t see us either.

Esau’s door opens and he steps out, shutting the door too loudly.

I wince, but start walking toward Noah’s house, rolling onto the balls of my feet in silence. The weight of Esau’s gaze, and his lingering questions, presses against the back of my neck like a large hand. I’ll owe him an explanation after this. My lips thin. How much will I have to tell him? How much do I want him to know?

Blood roars in my ears as I tiptoe through the trees, half expecting Justin to jump out at me from behind every trunk.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t.

Dread creeps in. I have the sickening thought that I wish he was coming here to retrieve me, because it would mean the people inside the house a few yards away would be safer. Maybe I should have called the sheriff after all, risked the tang of his disdain.

At the treeline, I stop, hiding behind a wide, old eucalyptus. Its bark is craggy and rough under my palms. Esau hovers behind me, but his heat can’t penetrate the cold coursing through my body. I scan the yard, but there’s no sign of the tell-tale blue car.

Esau’s hand lands on the back of my neck in a gentle, protective caress. “There something you need to