Anything But Extraordinary (Extraordinary Series Book 1)

by Mary Frame

  “Maybe they aren’t there. Maybe they know and they stayed somewhere else.”

  “Maybe. The construction company is required to check the building for people first, but they’re kids, they’re small. They could be hiding anywhere in that old building.”

  “What time does the demolition begin?”

  “It’s supposed to start at ten, but Maggie’s trying to get ahold of the company to stop them and we have another unit en route. What time is it now?”

  “We have ten minutes,” I say. “You need to hurry.”

  He speeds up until we’re doing what feels like ninety all the way to the pier. He even drives onto the wooden boards. Then we’re running toward the end of the boardwalk. Jared is faster and I yell at him to just go so he can sprint the final distance.

  I can’t hear the sounds of construction, so I’m hopeful we’ve made it in time. By the time I get to the building, Jared’s already yelling at the crew assembled there, waving his hands and shouting.

  It looks like they haven’t started their destruction, but there’s a machine on the other side of the building from me that’s running and too close for comfort.

  One of the workers nods and says something to Jared, and they go running into the empty storefront.

  By the time I reach the door to go in after them, Jared’s already coming out, and he’s alone.

  “They aren’t there?” I ask.

  “They are,” he says, his brow furrowed. “They won’t come out.”

  “What?”

  “They’re underneath, in the basement. The door to the crawlspace is locked. I called out and they answered, but they won’t open it.”

  “Why not?”

  “They have a list of demands.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “It makes sense, actually. It explains why they didn’t say anything when their dad disappeared. Greg said he knows what happens when CPS gets involved, and he’s not leaving his brother.”

  A few guys from the demolition crew walk by, laughing about something, the sound jarring considering the circumstances.

  “Oh my god. Can they stay with me? I can take both of them.”

  I really can’t take both of them, not long-term. Not if I plan on leaving, and I know I’ll have to leave eventually. But maybe I can have them until I find a better solution.

  “You have to be screened and on the county list to take in kids. And Greg’s worried he’s going to get in trouble for the thefts.”

  “They won’t, right?” I put my hand on his arm. “They’re just kids. They were trying to support themselves. You can’t let them get lost in the system.”

  “I’ll do everything I can for them.”

  I nod, but my expression must betray my anxiety because he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me and talking over my head.

  “They’ll be tried as juveniles, and the punishment won’t be severe. Most likely probation, but I can’t guarantee that they’ll be placed somewhere together. Their dad is gone, but we’ll try to find him. I have to call the county to get them placed tonight with someone who’s already been approved. The boys are right. Depending on spots available, they could be separated.”

  “What’s going to happen now?”

  “A guy on the crew is checking to see if we can break down the door to get them out without knocking everything down. They already started on the opposite side, and structurally, it might not be safe.”

  Jared’s phone rings and he walks a few steps away to take the call.

  The ground shudders underneath me for a brief moment.

  What the . . . ? Is that an earthquake? No, it’s the building.

  There are shouts all around me.

  “It’s gonna collapse soon!” someone yells.

  What about the boys?

  I don’t wait for Jared to make a decision or get off his phone call. I bolt into the building.

  He yells something behind me, but I don’t turn around.

  It’s not hard to find the crawlspace. There are footprints in the dust where the boys have been coming and going.

  I knock on the wood.

  “Go away unless you’re prepared to meet all my demands.” Greg. The words are tough, but he sounds scared.

  “Greg, it’s me.”

  “Ruby?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to help us?” My heart clenches at Gary’s smaller voice.

  “I’m going to do whatever I can, I promise. But you guys have to come out of there. This building is going to collapse.”

  “We can’t do that,” Greg says. “I’m not letting anyone take my brother from me.”

  “It’s not safe.” I try again. “This building is already falling down. Someone could get hurt and then you really won’t be together. Didn’t you feel the shaking?”

  There’s silence at that, and then they’re whispering to each other. A machine rattles outside, and my heart lurches, my mind racing for a solution.

  The ground shakes again, and a corner of the building behind me starts to topple.

  I shriek as drywall and dust fall from the ceiling.

  “It’s going to come down!” I yell into the door.

  The latch jiggles.

  I’m panicking as the door lifts up. I grab the lid and scramble down in the hole with them, slamming the door shut behind me. I throw my arms over both of them right as the world falls down around us.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It’s dark. I can’t see anything. My ears ring from the sound of plaster and wood collapsing damn near on top of me.

  “Greg? Gary?” I cough out the names.

  When I come back to myself, I feel them. My arms are still around them. We’re sitting on a hard floor in a narrow space. Their little bodies shake against me.

  Greg starts to cough. It feels like we’re covered in a cloud of dust.

  Holy crap. We’re alive.

  “Are you guys okay?” I ask when they don’t say anything.

  One of them nods, the movement of their head brushes my arm. It must be Gary, he feels smaller.

  “I’m okay,” Greg says on my other side.

  I remove my arms from around them, but they stay huddled into my side. I try to assess the damage, but it’s too dark to see much of anything.

  The basement didn’t completely collapse, at least not by the crawlspace door where we are. The area directly above us seems to have held up. I reach out with my hands. We’re surrounded by rubble. The only space we have is directly under the trap door, just enough room to sit, with maybe a foot of space above my head and perhaps two feet around us. It’s not much.

  “Don’t worry,” I say, “They know we’re in here and they’ll get us out soon.”

  I hope.

  There’s silence for a moment. My ears start to get better, and I listen for the sounds of movement outside the rubble, but I don’t hear anything. I shift on the hard step, trying to see how far I can spread my legs out. It’s not much. The boys shift with me and we get as comfortable as we can while we wait.

  “Should we try to dig out?” Greg asks. He shuffles a bit more next to me.

  “No,” I say quickly. “We don’t want to make more things fall on us. I’m sure they’re working hard on getting us out right now. We should stay in one spot to make it easier.”

  “When we get out of here, will they let us stay together?” Gary asks.

  My heart hurts for him.

  “I hope so.” I have an idea that might work, but I don’t want to get their hopes up. “We won’t know until we get out of here.”

  We’re silent for a while. Crouched on the ground. Waiting. I try not to think too hard about the small space we’re occupying and the layers and layers of wood and dirt and who knows what between us and freedom. Hopefully there’s enough air getting in to let us breathe for a while. I shudder.

  “They’re going to send us to jail,” Greg says after a while.

  “No!” I want to keep the
m calm, but I can’t lie. “Well . . . You are in a bit of trouble for stealing things, but Jared said since you’re so young it will probably just be probation and that sort of thing.”

  “What’s probation?” His poor little voice sounds exhausted.

  “It’s nothing horrible. It means you’ll have to stay in your home for a while and you can only leave to go to school.”

  “That doesn’t sound bad,” Gary says. “I want to stay somewhere that’s home.”

  You and me both, kid.

  “You aren’t mad about us stealing?” Gary asks.

  “I’m not mad. How did you guys steal the purse from the lady at the boardwalk without anyone seeing you?”

  Greg answers. “I saw it on TV. We took some bags from this old lady who was sleeping. We were using them for blankets, too, because there were so many. The blond lady on the boardwalk, she was distracted and I came up behind her and put it over her head. Gary grabbed her purse and ran back here. Gary is so small, people usually ignore him or don’t notice him, anyway. She started screaming though. We didn’t mean to frighten her. We never tried doing it again after that.”

  “How did you get into the gas station?”

  Greg answers again. “We snuck into the back room and hid behind some boxes until they closed.”

  That’s why there was no sign of a break-in.

  I ask the question, even though I can surmise the answer. “Why did you break all the bottles?”

  Greg answers. “Our dad cared more about those bottles than he did us.”

  We’re all quiet for a few minutes after that statement. Then, “Why didn’t you guys ask someone for help?”

  “We don’t want to be separated,” Gary says.

  “We’ve heard stories about kids in foster homes,” Greg continues. “People are mean to them. We don’t want to have to leave Castle Cove. What if our dad comes back for us?”

  I swallow. Their dad returning doesn’t seem like the best-case scenario in my head, but they are just kids.

  Gary falls asleep next to me, leaning onto my arms, his breathing fanning my wrist.

  I think I start to doze, too, when there’s a loud bang and light starts streaming in through cracks in the door above us.

  “I think they’re getting closer,” I tell the boys.

  The noise wakes up Gary and he starts crying, quiet little hiccups and sniffles.

  I hold him tighter. “It’s okay. It will be over soon.” They both huddle closer to me.

  There’s more noise from above and then the door is wrenched open.

  I blink against the light shining in. It’s not the sun; we haven’t been in there that long. It’s some kind of giant spotlight.

  “Thank god,” a voice says.

  Arms reach in for the boys. I do my best to help them out first, and then it’s my turn. I can barely stand; my legs are asleep and numb from sitting on the hard floor for who knows how long.

  Strong arms pull me out.

  It’s Jared and he’s hugging me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, we’re fine.”

  “I tried to go in the building after you, but they wouldn’t let me. Don’t ever do that again.” He sounds pissed. But a weird pissed, like angry and relieved all at once.

  Time passes in a blur of activity. Someone throws a blanket around me and I’m walked and mostly carried over to a waiting ambulance with the boys. An EMT checks me out and declares me fit to leave, but it seems to take forever. Jared is nearby at all times, either with me or the boys as we’re being poked and prodded.

  When I finally have a minute, I turn to Jared. “The boys,” I tell him. “They want to stay together.”

  “I know,” he says. “I called the county and they’re sending a worker out. They’ll need emergency placement—”

  “Mr. Bingel.”

  “What?”

  “Trust me. Call Mr. Bingel.”

  He frowns at me, a confused line appearing between his eyes, but he agrees. “Okay.”

  ~*~

  “How did you know about Mr. Bingel?” Jared asks me.

  We’re standing on my porch. Well, he’s standing on my porch. I’ve unlocked the door and I’m halfway inside, wondering if Jared wants to come in with me.

  It’s a terrible, horrible, wonderful idea for so many reasons.

  Hours have passed since we emerged from the basement of the abandoned building. The boys are safely next door. The sun is rising. I waited until the boys’ situation was resolved until I let Jared take me home.

  I shrug at his question. “When in doubt, know the future.” I put my purse on the ground just inside the door and turn to face him, leaning against the doorframe.

  “That’s very funny. Seriously though. I had no idea he had registered as a foster parent.”

  I smile and say nothing.

  He’s quiet for a moment, standing there, not leaving, but not coming in either, shifting on his feet like he always does when he’s uncomfortable. He clears his throat. “About earlier . . .”

  “What about it?”

  “I shouldn’t have . . . I didn’t mean to take advantage of the situation.”

  I can’t help but smile. “You think you took advantage of me?”

  “No, I just mean, since we’re working together and everything, we probably shouldn’t do . . . that.”

  “We shouldn’t make out in my laundry room,” I clarify.

  “Yes, right. I mean, no. I mean, it’s not the best idea—”

  “Jared.”

  “What?”

  “Do you want to come in?”

  He stares at me, his gaze as intense as ever. I flush under the weight of his scrutiny.

  Then he steps over the threshold.

  To be continued . . .

  Need more? Get book two in the Extraordinary Series: A Life Less Extraordinary! Available 12/10/17—special pre-order pricing!

  Get the third and final book, Extraordinary World, 1/11/2018—also with special pre-order pricing!

  About the Author

  To see all of Mary’s books, and sign up to receive information about new releases, go here: www.authormaryframe.com

  Mary Frame is a full time mother and wife with a full time job. She has no idea how she manages to write novels, except that it involves copious amounts of wine. She doesn't enjoy writing about herself in third person, but she does enjoy reading, writing, dancing, and damaging the ear drums of her co-workers when she randomly decides to sing to them.

  She lives in Reno, Nevada with her husband, two children and a border collie named Stella.

  She LOVES hearing from readers and will not only respond but likely begin stalking them while tossing out hearts and flowers and rainbows! If that doesn't creep you out, e-mail her at: maryframeauthor@gmail.com

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