Echoes by Marissa Lete (best books for students to read txt) 📕

I pull the handle on my car’s door, but it only opens a few inches before it hits the wall of the building next to me. There’s no way I can fit through the space, so I roll the window down, squeezing my body upwards through the gap. I climb over the hood of my car, rushing to the fence. I put my hands on it, shaking to determine its structural capacity, but I realize that there’s no way my car could generate enough force to knock it down, not without backing up to the start of the alley and then speeding up again. I shake it again, panicking. It’s got a gate, but it’s padlocked shut.

Behind me, I hear a set of footsteps moving toward me.

I grab onto the chain link fence, pulling myself upwards. I’ve got no other choice, so I climb, throwing a leg over the top, then lowering myself back to the ground.

The second my feet touch the cement, someone makes contact with the fence. I don’t look back, don’t even hesitate, I just break into a sprint. After a hundred yards or so, I can see the end of the alley up ahead where it runs into the adjacent road. When I’m a hundred feet away, headlights appear in front of me and the Suburban comes screeching to a halt across the gap, blocking my route of escape. I skid to a stop, trying to think quickly, trying to find a way out of this. But I’m not fast enough. The footsteps behind me close in and the door of the Suburban opens, another figure making its way out into the dark alley.

Before I can prepare to defend myself, a body collides with mine and an arm slides around my neck. A hand grabs one of my arms and forces it behind my back. I reach with my other hand, trying to rip the hands away from my body, but I’m weak in comparison. I let out a scream.

“Scream all you want, no one’s going to hear you,” a gruff male voice breathes into my ear. “You’re not getting away this time.”

“Hold her there,” another voice calls from the direction of the Suburban. My captor tightens his hold on me, pushing me towards one of the buildings until I’m up against it, my cheek pressed against the cold, rough brick. I struggle, trying to kick or pull or bite, but every time I move, my captor’s grip around my neck tightens.

“Give it up,” he says, holding me firmly in place, the skin on my cheek burning. I’m breathing hard, and I stop moving for a moment before I lift my leg and kick backward, hard. My foot makes contact with his knee and he loosens his grip for a second as he tries to find his balance. I seize the moment, throwing all of my strength into movement, breaking free from his grasp. I try to slip away, but before I can take three steps, a hand lands on my head, grabbing a fistful of hair. I scream as he tugs, pulling me down to the ground. I land on my knees and he grabs my arm again, forcing my body lower. My cheek collides with the ground this time, and no matter how much I kick my legs and struggle, I can’t seem to escape the force holding me down.

As I’m laying there held captive, I hear footsteps coming up behind us.

“Grab her—” my captor begins to say, but cuts off. Just then, the weight holding me down lifts. I roll over, scrambling to my feet. There’s another figure a few feet away, struggling against the man who had been holding me down. I watch them for a second, tangled in a battle of strength.

“Run!” one of the figures calls and I snap into action, turning my head around. Over by the Suburban, a person is lying on the ground, still. Someone’s helping me. I can escape. I turn toward the chain-link fence where my car still sits, headlights glowing faintly through the alley, and I’ve only taken about three strides towards it before I realize something.

That voice.

I recognize it.

I stop in my tracks, whipping around to look back at the fight. Both of the men are covered in dark clothing and the alley is dimly lit, so I can’t tell which one is my rescuer. I watch as the taller of the two takes a swing at the other, fist colliding with jaw. He falls to his knees and the other guy shoves him to the ground and lands a kick right to his head. The man on the ground goes still.

I watch silently as the man still standing pauses for a moment, his chest heaving in exhaustion. Then his head lifts in my direction, and my heart skips a beat.

“You should leave. Now,” he says, and my heart completely stops. I know that voice. It’s the voice from the echoes. Maverick.

I stare at him through the dark. I can make out his figure, tall and lean, but I can’t see any of his facial features. He stares back at me, unmoving. After a few seconds, he takes one step toward me and instinctively I mirror him, taking a step back.

Is this Maverick? The boy I’ve been hearing echoes of, the boy I’d supposedly fallen in love with but have no memory of? The boy who’d been erased from my life somehow? I’m both desperate to know and terrified of the answers. I’m not sure what to do, so I just stand there, feeling a cool breeze blow through the alley.

“Go! Get out of here before they wake up,” he calls to me. His tone is urgent but isn’t mean. It’s cautious, desperate. But he doesn’t move, and neither do I.

Finally, I work up enough courage to part my lips. All that comes