8
I spend the next thirty minutes calling ‘round, making sure that Anna hadn’t already got Sammy out of Crandale.
No such luck.
And every painful minute that I lose just tears me up inside. I want to scream but I have to keep my head. I want to cry but I’m all cried out. I want to ram my car straight through the barricade but I’d get arrested. And what good would that do? If Sammy’s still alive, then I have to get him out, and fast. Have to keep cool. Can’t do anything stupid.
I’m parked up near Rose Avenue, staring at the steel wall. There are four police cars parked, and two unmarked white vans, most likely Cleaners, dotted around the area.
Absolutely no way in.
Crandale has about four, possibly five ways in: here at Rose Avenue, the turning by the primary school, and one by Richmo
