Mysteries & Detective Stories
The driver shut the motor off and just sat there, very still. We froze in our places. He pulled off his helmet and looked around without leaving his machine. It was too dark to see his face, but he looked big. My heart was hammering like a drum. Surely he could hear it. I looked sideways at Sam and the others. Their breath was coming out in tiny streams. Nobody moved a muscle, not even Spider.
"You can't threaten me," I countered, my knees quivering with fear. "I'll tell whoever I want about this and you can't stop me."
"Oh, can't I? Your Grandpa's having a hard time scraping money to keep that ranch running, isn't he? How would it be if things got just a little bit harder? You wouldn't want ole' Granddad to lose the farm, now would you?"
"You couldn't do that," I whispered.
"Try me," Bellamy said, his eyes glittering like a snake's.
Ausby drew back his fist. "Back off, pal," he snarled. "I'm armed, but I don't want to use it. Make the little girl give me the bag, and I'll be on my way. If you don't, there's going to be a whole bunch of people hurt here today."
"One more thing," Stike called as I mounted up. "Keep your eyes open."
"Huh?" Keep them open for what? What did he mean?
"We had a kid last year who ran into some trouble. Some crew didn't appreciate his cleanup. They waited for him one morning and jumped him. Kid ended up in the hospital." He grinned at me as if he were telling me about some fond memory.
"Watch the watchers," he said. "If you think you're attracting some of the wrong attention, you let me know. Crews don't scare Stike."
I had the feeling that not much scared Stike. But the thought of getting jumped by a gang sure scared me. I began to wonder if Dave Marsh had done me a favor after all.
J'ai l'impression qu'il n'y a pas grand-chose qui fasse peur à Stike. Mais moi, l'idée d'être attaqué par un gang me terrifie.
Without thinking about how scared I was, I dove. It was like diving into cold midnight. My ears roared as the water closed over my head.
I kicked downward, blindly reaching with my hands. My clawing fingers raked the outside wall of the cabin. I followed the wall down to where it met the deck. If the ax was still on board, that's where I would find it.
Just as I was about to run out of air, I felt the smooth long handle of the ax. I grabbed it and pushed upward.
