Sky Raiders
Page 5
The men charged forward. The redhead seized Blake by the back of the neck and hurled him to the ground. Ham was reaching for Jenna.
That was all Cole needed to see. If these guys were getting physical, this was officially real. Stepping toward Ham, Cole swung his candy bag at the lantern as if he were trying to knock it out of a ballpark. The casing shattered with a flash, plunging the room into darkness.
Somebody jostled roughly into him, and Cole went down. He could see nothing. People were screaming. He rose, staggering blindly toward where he thought the stairs would be. Somebody had to get away. If these were kidnappers, somebody had to make it to the police before the situation turned even uglier.
Cole found himself tangled in curtains. Yanking desperately, he pulled them down. Instead of falling and letting him pass, the drapes landed on him. He tried to keep moving forward, but he hurried straight into a wall and fell.
A moment later a light came on. Instinctively, Cole held still. He was hidden beneath the fallen curtains. He heard orders being shouted. More lights were lit.
Moving slowly, Cole peeked out from under the edge of the drapery. An overhead electric light was on, along with three glowing lanterns. He had run exactly the wrong way. He was on the far side of the room, away from the stairs that led up to the kitchen. His friends were being manhandled into cages.
The stocky woman stood conversing with a lean man in a wide-brimmed hat and a long weathered duster. He held a sickle in one veiny hand.
Ham tromped up the stairs. He knocked on the door three times, hard enough to make it shake. The Boo guy opened it.
“We’re done,” Ham said.
“Good,” Boo replied. “Great. I take it you’re satisfied?”
“You did your part.” Ham grunted, handing over a bulging sack. Boo accepted it. When he reached inside, Cole heard the unmistakable clink and rattle of coins. From his position on the floor, where he had slightly tented the curtain so he could peer out, Cole caught a glint of gold as Boo removed a few coins from the sack, weighing them in his hand.
“Do you need anything else from us?” Boo asked.
Ham looked back at the lean man in the duster, who shook his head. “Just get far away from here. After that, rest easy. Nobody will be able to follow us. Nobody will see these kids again. They’ll soon be forgotten.”
Boo hefted the bag of coins in a sort of salute. “A pleasure. Safe travels. Happy Halloween.” He closed the door.
Ham came back down the stairs. He and the redhead wrestled the lid off a manhole cover in the center of the room. The pale man with the funky teeth walked over to one of the cages, keys in hand.
The lean man in the wide-brimmed hat held up a hand, and the room went silent. “Smart children,” he said in a parched voice, not much more than a stage whisper. “You behaved well. Most of you kept silent as directed. Those who did not suffered as promised. We do not wish to harm you. This will be orderly. You will pay if you try something. We will make an example of you. We are your masters now. Treat us with due respect, and we will deal with you fairly.” He motioned with his sickle for the pale man to proceed.
The cage opened. Kids filed out. They all wore iron collars. Their legs were chained together. Cole guessed they were mostly between fifth and seventh grades. He saw no really little ones. One boy dressed as a pirate was gagged and had a huge bruise on his cheek that did not seem to be part of his costume.
The kids were paraded over to the open manhole. Ham went down first, slowly disappearing as he descended an unseen ladder. Before his head vanished, he paused. “When the rungs stop, just drop,” he said. Then his head was gone.
The first kid, a girl with sparkly horns and a red cape, paused at the brink. “Down there?”
“Go,” the pale man urged. “You’re worth more alive, but we can make use of more bones.”
She turned. It seemed awkward for her to get started with her ankles chained together. She crouched and started down.
Cole slowly let the edge of the curtain fall, closing off his view. He had ended up near a far corner of the room. There were fallen curtains everywhere, resting in lumpy piles. If he kept still, they might miss him. Unless they picked up the curtains before they left.
Where could the manhole lead? Were there big sewer tunnels running under Mesa? Apparently, they at least had some under this neighborhood. Maybe they would surface inside a warehouse where semitrailers stood waiting. Maybe the trucks would head over the border along some secret route. Anything seemed possible.
Occasionally a kid would protest from down in the manhole. The men up top would growl at him or her to drop. Cole heard several echoing screams trail off ominously.
These criminals were kidnapping dozens of people. They were taking Dalton. They were taking Jenna. He had to do something.
But he had to be smart. If he emerged now, he would get caught. Once they were gone, he could probably climb the stairs, break down the door, and go to the police. Would it be too late? Would the cops be able to follow the kidnappers through the sewers? If alerted quickly, would the authorities be able to guess where these men might be headed? What about Boo? Had he already left with the other spook alley workers? Or would they all be there, waiting for him?
Cole wished he had a cell phone. His parents had decided he was too young to need one. If they could see him now, he suspected they might rethink their policy.
He lay with his chin on the cement floor. The heavy drapes were making him sweat. His heart thudded in his chest.
Cole peeked again. Now that the kids understood the drill, the procession into the manhole was going fast.
He closed his peephole. Nobody was looking his way. Nobody was talking about a kid gone missing. One of the men was gathering up bones, but nobody was gathering curtains.
How could somebody kidnap this many people? It should be national news! There had to be more than forty kids. The whole town would be in an uproar! The whole country would demand answers!
Raising the edge of the curtain, Cole watched as the last kids descended into the hole. Jenna was among them. Dalton was already gone. Cole had missed it. Some of the men had gone down as well.
The man in the wide-brimmed hat checked an old-fashioned pocket watch. “The way will close in less than ten minutes.”
“Excellent timing, Ansel,” the woman said. “This was a good plan.”
“Think we found what we were looking for?” Ansel asked.
“Impossible to tell on this side,” the woman replied. “But it’s a large sample. I expect we have what we need. It should add up to quite a take.”
That was all Cole needed to see. If these guys were getting physical, this was officially real. Stepping toward Ham, Cole swung his candy bag at the lantern as if he were trying to knock it out of a ballpark. The casing shattered with a flash, plunging the room into darkness.
Somebody jostled roughly into him, and Cole went down. He could see nothing. People were screaming. He rose, staggering blindly toward where he thought the stairs would be. Somebody had to get away. If these were kidnappers, somebody had to make it to the police before the situation turned even uglier.
Cole found himself tangled in curtains. Yanking desperately, he pulled them down. Instead of falling and letting him pass, the drapes landed on him. He tried to keep moving forward, but he hurried straight into a wall and fell.
A moment later a light came on. Instinctively, Cole held still. He was hidden beneath the fallen curtains. He heard orders being shouted. More lights were lit.
Moving slowly, Cole peeked out from under the edge of the drapery. An overhead electric light was on, along with three glowing lanterns. He had run exactly the wrong way. He was on the far side of the room, away from the stairs that led up to the kitchen. His friends were being manhandled into cages.
The stocky woman stood conversing with a lean man in a wide-brimmed hat and a long weathered duster. He held a sickle in one veiny hand.
Ham tromped up the stairs. He knocked on the door three times, hard enough to make it shake. The Boo guy opened it.
“We’re done,” Ham said.
“Good,” Boo replied. “Great. I take it you’re satisfied?”
“You did your part.” Ham grunted, handing over a bulging sack. Boo accepted it. When he reached inside, Cole heard the unmistakable clink and rattle of coins. From his position on the floor, where he had slightly tented the curtain so he could peer out, Cole caught a glint of gold as Boo removed a few coins from the sack, weighing them in his hand.
“Do you need anything else from us?” Boo asked.
Ham looked back at the lean man in the duster, who shook his head. “Just get far away from here. After that, rest easy. Nobody will be able to follow us. Nobody will see these kids again. They’ll soon be forgotten.”
Boo hefted the bag of coins in a sort of salute. “A pleasure. Safe travels. Happy Halloween.” He closed the door.
Ham came back down the stairs. He and the redhead wrestled the lid off a manhole cover in the center of the room. The pale man with the funky teeth walked over to one of the cages, keys in hand.
The lean man in the wide-brimmed hat held up a hand, and the room went silent. “Smart children,” he said in a parched voice, not much more than a stage whisper. “You behaved well. Most of you kept silent as directed. Those who did not suffered as promised. We do not wish to harm you. This will be orderly. You will pay if you try something. We will make an example of you. We are your masters now. Treat us with due respect, and we will deal with you fairly.” He motioned with his sickle for the pale man to proceed.
The cage opened. Kids filed out. They all wore iron collars. Their legs were chained together. Cole guessed they were mostly between fifth and seventh grades. He saw no really little ones. One boy dressed as a pirate was gagged and had a huge bruise on his cheek that did not seem to be part of his costume.
The kids were paraded over to the open manhole. Ham went down first, slowly disappearing as he descended an unseen ladder. Before his head vanished, he paused. “When the rungs stop, just drop,” he said. Then his head was gone.
The first kid, a girl with sparkly horns and a red cape, paused at the brink. “Down there?”
“Go,” the pale man urged. “You’re worth more alive, but we can make use of more bones.”
She turned. It seemed awkward for her to get started with her ankles chained together. She crouched and started down.
Cole slowly let the edge of the curtain fall, closing off his view. He had ended up near a far corner of the room. There were fallen curtains everywhere, resting in lumpy piles. If he kept still, they might miss him. Unless they picked up the curtains before they left.
Where could the manhole lead? Were there big sewer tunnels running under Mesa? Apparently, they at least had some under this neighborhood. Maybe they would surface inside a warehouse where semitrailers stood waiting. Maybe the trucks would head over the border along some secret route. Anything seemed possible.
Occasionally a kid would protest from down in the manhole. The men up top would growl at him or her to drop. Cole heard several echoing screams trail off ominously.
These criminals were kidnapping dozens of people. They were taking Dalton. They were taking Jenna. He had to do something.
But he had to be smart. If he emerged now, he would get caught. Once they were gone, he could probably climb the stairs, break down the door, and go to the police. Would it be too late? Would the cops be able to follow the kidnappers through the sewers? If alerted quickly, would the authorities be able to guess where these men might be headed? What about Boo? Had he already left with the other spook alley workers? Or would they all be there, waiting for him?
Cole wished he had a cell phone. His parents had decided he was too young to need one. If they could see him now, he suspected they might rethink their policy.
He lay with his chin on the cement floor. The heavy drapes were making him sweat. His heart thudded in his chest.
Cole peeked again. Now that the kids understood the drill, the procession into the manhole was going fast.
He closed his peephole. Nobody was looking his way. Nobody was talking about a kid gone missing. One of the men was gathering up bones, but nobody was gathering curtains.
How could somebody kidnap this many people? It should be national news! There had to be more than forty kids. The whole town would be in an uproar! The whole country would demand answers!
Raising the edge of the curtain, Cole watched as the last kids descended into the hole. Jenna was among them. Dalton was already gone. Cole had missed it. Some of the men had gone down as well.
The man in the wide-brimmed hat checked an old-fashioned pocket watch. “The way will close in less than ten minutes.”
“Excellent timing, Ansel,” the woman said. “This was a good plan.”
“Think we found what we were looking for?” Ansel asked.
“Impossible to tell on this side,” the woman replied. “But it’s a large sample. I expect we have what we need. It should add up to quite a take.”
