Hunter Moran Hangs Out Read Online Free

leaving home, and it’s all because of us.”
    Mom’s footsteps come next, a little slower, a lot lighter. She opens our door and smiles at us. “We’re on our way to have the baby. Nana will be here to take care of things in an hour or so.”
    Nana. Terrific.
    Mom frowns a little. “Pay attention to Linny in the meantime.”
    â€œHave a boy,” we call after her, crossing fingers and toes.
    â€œThink of names,” she calls back.
    We don’t have to think. We’ve figured it out already. K.G. for Killer Godzilla. We’ll tell Mom it’s for Kevin George, or something regular like that.
    The banging goes on. It sounds as if it’s coming through the window. The day has a whole new look, though. Nana will cook for hours, humming, patting our shoulders as we go by. She hardly remembers who’s who. We can search for the kidnapper in peace.
    Except for Linny. She bangs on our door with both fists. “Let’s get this house cleaned up before Nana gets here,” she says. “The whole place is a mess because of you guys.”
    She’s got to be kidding. Nana loves to clean.
    I pull a T-shirt out from under the bed. DON’T WORRY is splashed across the front in huge red letters. I’m worried. We have two days to solve this kidnapping.
    Zack and I go down the hall. We pass William’s room. Mom says he has a head on his shoulders. Too bad there’s nothing in it. A huge Gussie’s Gym bag is on the floor, probably stuck to the new paint. He said he paid Gussie a fortune for it. That means ten bucks, at least.
    Airhead William.
    We peek in at Steadman. He’s fast asleep with his thumb in his mouth and a half-eaten Baby Ruth bar melting on his pillow. We peek quietly, though. Once he’s up, we’ll have to follow him around all day to be sure he’s safe from the kidnapper.
    For once Linny is right. The kitchen is a mess. She’s standing at the sink, bubbles piled high, dishes piled even higher. “Grab a towel,” she says over her shoulder.
    â€œThe dishwasher’s still broken?” Zack asks.
    â€œWhat do you think?” she says.
    â€œI think you’re doing a terrific job, Linny,” I say. “Just keep an ear out for Steadman while you’re at it, will you?”
    We dive out the door and stand on the back steps, listening. “Is that noise coming from Werewolf Woods?” I say.
    Zack looks across the street. “I think so.”
    I can hardly hear him. Linny is screeching at us from the kitchen. It sounds as if she’s being dragged away by the kidnapper.
    Who’d want her?
    â€œClose the window,” Zack calls in to her.
    Surprisingly, she slams it down, yelling something about a pile of books on the hall floor that anyone can fall over.
    Books! Last night’s dream! Something floats into my mind, then out again.
    Linny presses her nose against the glass. “What about those worms?”
    â€œDon’t worry,” I call back. “They’re healthy. They won’t catch anything from you.”
    We grin at her to show we’re joking; then we concentrate on the noise coming from the woods.
    â€œThe kidnapper is building a prison, right there in the middle where the vines are thick,” Zack says.
    â€œEasy for the kidnapper, just steps away from the empty house where he’s hanging out,” I say.
    In front of the house, we try not to look at Pop’s ruined lawn with the gravestone looming up in the middle.
    We zigzag across the street, heading for the woods, and take a shortcut along the driveway of the empty house. Strangely, there are shades on the window. Black. You can’t see an inch inside, even though we take a couple of jumps to look.
    â€œCrummy house,” Zack mutters.
    Even William’s painting would be better than the peeling wood. Perfect for a kidnapper.
    In the woods, we pass Pop’s barrel of nails. Some of his wood is