Non-classifiable
She takes another ragged breath. "That..." She waves toward the front door and gulps. "That's the man who killed your father."
It had only been seconds, but I glanced up and realized that I was alone in the office. The rest of the class had already reached the stairwell.
A pair of eyeballs peered over the edge of the desk. I froze in shock.
They were human eyeballs...that were still attached to a human head.
I suppressed the urge to yell as a guy popped up from behind a desk and started toward me. Something metal gleamed in one hand. He had a scruffy goatee, a nose ring and a tattoo on his upper arm.
The spit in my mouth dried instantly. My feet were moving before my brain gave the command to run. I sped out of the office and down the stairs, slamming the door behind me.
"You can't do that," Luke said. "If those two guys catch you, they'll kill you."
"If I don't do it," I said, "they're going to kill hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of bloodline bulls. Including the one I used to feed by hand with a bottle."
I turned and ran back toward the barn.
"I saw Eve on the street this summer," says Zoe. "She's gotten so fat. She looks like a blob."
I feel like a herd of horses are stomping through my chest. I want to turn and run, but my feet are glued to the pavement.
I was in the trees and three turns down before I noticed that something was wrong. My bindings were loose on the board. They rattled when I turned.
I struggled for control, but I was going too fast. My board shot free. It hurtled down the hill without me. I hit the snow hard and flipped, my bindings still attached to my boots. It hurt.
I tucked and rolled. I was still in the trees. Bad place to fall.
"There are many causes for which I am prepared to die, but none for which I am prepared to kill," Mr. Roberts said. "Does anybody know who said that?"
