No Escape: A Tale of Terror

By Brandon Terrell and Mariano Epelbaum

Jake Prescott thinks he's finally in luck when magician Augustus Towers asks him to be his assistant. Jake's an amateur magician, and Augustus might be the perfect person to help him make it big. But Jake can't shake the creepy feeling he gets when he visits Augustus's performance space. Can it be true that The Marvelous Melbourne haunts the theater? And did he really die inside the Spirit Cabinet--the box Jake ends up trapped inside during Towers' stage premiere? For whatever reason, Jake can't breathe in there . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Capstone Young Readers
• Release date: May 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781496589392

Brandon Terrell

Brandon M. Terrell (1978–2021) was a talented storyteller, authoring more than one hundred books for children. He was a passionate reader, Star Wars enthusiast, amazing father, and devoted husband.

Book preview

1

The Biggest Little City in the World. That’s what the neon sign outside town said. People came to Reno, Nevada, to test their luck. They wanted to turn one dollar into a whole stack. They wanted to make their dreams come true. They wanted to see something . . . magical.

The brilliant lights that gave Reno its glow were on 24/7, but they didn’t really shine until the sun dipped behind the Sierra Nevada mountains. Then the town really came alive. Performers brought buckets and blankets and stood on the sidewalks. They put on displays—juggling, dancing, standing very still (I swear, there’s a guy named Vinnie who does it)—and people strolled around, watching. When the show was over, they dropped money into the buckets and went on their way.

I was one of those performers.

It was a hot spring afternoon, and I had my table set up on the sidewalk. A small crowd of people were gathered around me. They were all tourists. They were always tourists. On top of the table I had three red cups and a bright orange Ping-Pong ball. It was an old trick known as—big shocker—cup and ball.

OK, everyone, I said, bouncing the ball on the table. The game is simple. Keep your eye on the ball. I’m going to slide it under one of the cups, shuffle the cups around, and you’re going to tell me where it is. Got it?

The crowd nodded and mumbled. One woman in front, an older lady, clutched her purse to her chest.

I lifted my Golden Knights cap off my head. There’s nothing under my hat, I said, making a show of it. I replaced the cap and pulled up both sleeves of my jacket. And nothing up my sleeves. Are you ready?

They cried, Yes! in unison.

I lifted the cup in the middle and slipped the ball under. Here we go.

I quickly slid the cups around on the table, weaving them in and out and around, trying to be unpredictable.

Finally, I stopped. Now, place your bets. Set your money on the table near the cup you think the ball is under.

A few people came forward and dropped one-dollar and five-dollar bills next to the cup on the right. The lady with the purse was a big spender. She set a folded ten-dollar bill beside it.

With my left hand, I lifted the cup they’d chosen. Underneath, it was empty. Oh, so sorry, I said.