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    The Sleeper
    The Sleeper
    The Sleeper
    Ebook63 pages23 minutes

    The Sleeper

    By Steve Brezenoff and Tom Percival

    ()

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    About this ebook

    The old orphanage on the outskirts of Ravens Pass? It's full of aliens ready to take over the planet.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCapstone Young Readers
    Release dateApr 1, 2014
    ISBN9781434299611
    The Sleeper
    Author

    Steve Brezenoff

    Steve Brezenoff is the author of the young adult novels The Absolute Value of -1, which won the IPPY Gold Medal for young adult fiction, and Brooklyn, Burning, which was named a Kirkus Reviews Best Book, was a Best Fiction for Young Adults selection by the American Library Association, and won the ForeWord Book of the Year Gold Medal for young adult fiction. Born on Long Island, Steve now lives in Minneapolis with his wife, Beth, and their son and daughter, Sam and Etta. His main is a Blood Elf monk, but he's been known to run a Night Elf priest from time to time.

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      Book preview

      The Sleeper - Steve Brezenoff

      Cover

      Most residents of Ravens Pass thought of the graveyard as the end of town. After all, there was no reason to go past.

      All the shops and restaurants were on Main Street. The only factory in town was on Industrial Boulevard, near the highway.

      The schools and the library were just a block off Main, close to the park. And every house was on one of the side streets.

      Well, every house except one: the Galactic Expansion Home for Lost Children. Or, as everyone in Ravens Pass called it, the Old Orphanage.

      It was a five-story, rickety old house. On gray, cold days, if you were brave enough to take a walk past the cemetery, you’d see kids from ages two to twenty playing on the big overgrown front yard. And sitting on the porch, in their old rocking chairs, would be the two men who had been running the Old Orphanage since it was founded.

      No one in Ravens Pass knew their names, of course, but they would all know the men on sight. Mr. Jinks was the short one. He wore colorful, outlandish suits: his jackets all had tails, his collars all had ruffles, and his pants all had patterns or stripes or plaids. He usually carried a cane, too, and he never smiled.

      Mr. Flute was the tall one, nearly seven feet tall. He wore black wool pants and a black wool sweater. When the two men were in town — to pick up groceries or diapers — Mr. Flute always had a hello and a smile for everyone.

      But usually the residents of Ravens Pass only saw the men’s car: a long black station wagon with tinted windows.

      Every so often the long black car would move slowly through town. It would puff a cloud of smoke behind it. Its engine would blast and boom. Then the car would head onto the highway and vanish.

      It always came back, though, of course. Whether it was

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