by Alex van Tol
“It’s nine forty-seven, guys,” I say, glancing at Nolan’s watch. “We’ve got to get a move on.”
“Let’s head ’er,” agrees Chase. “If we ride now, we’ll be back at the campsite by the time that Deuce guy gets here.”
“What if he’s got infrared scanners in his helicopter?” asks Nolan suddenly. “If he does, he’ll be able to find us in the bushes, no matter where we are. We’d need a bunker to be safe.”
This thought scares me. Seth gives off a little moan.
“What makes you so sure he’ll come in a chopper?” Rico asks.
“Well,” Nolan says, “he’s a big-time drug trafficker, right? Do you think a busy guy like that is going to hike in to his grow-op on foot?” He blinks at Rico. “Or maybe he’ll ride in on a purple unicorn, Rico.” If I wasn’t so scared, I’d laugh.
Rico grunts. “Well, still. He might be traveling light. The other guys were on ATVs.”
Nolan opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. A faraway sound has stolen his words. We all freeze at the same time, eyes locked on each other. Terror rips through us as we listen to the noise that’s drawing closer.
It’s the sound of a helicopter.
chapter twenty
He’s early. I hadn’t planned on that. Hadn’t even thought about that. Somehow I had convinced myself that Deuce would arrive at the stroke of ten.
And here he is, fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.
“Chase!” I shout. “There’s a gun under the porch!” Chase dashes away to grab Damian’s gun. I reach for the pistol inside my shorts pocket.
It’s gone. I stretch my pocket out and peer inside in disbelief. It must have fallen out when I was biking on that brutal uphill. I’ve got to go back for the gun!
But as soon as I have that thought, I realize how ridiculous it is. There’s no way I’d be able to make it back to the hill, find the gun and get back here to the cabin before Deuce lands his chopper and offs all my friends. I want to scream in frustration, but I force myself to concentrate.
What Rico said might be true—there may be infrared in Deuce’s helicopter. Even if we make a run for it, we still might get caught.
We’ll have to chance it. There’s no other option now. We have one gun. Who knows how many Deuce has? Or how many guys he’s bringing with him?
Chase returns with the gun, tucking it into his belt.
“You know how to use that thing?” Nolan shrieks.
Chase raises his eyebrows. “I will when it matters.”
The way he says it gives me a shiver. I nod. “Okay. We’re going to have to ride. We’ve only got one gun. Unless anybody saw other weapons in the cabin?” Everyone shakes their heads. “Right. We can’t fight. So we run. We have three bikes and an ATV. Who can drive?”
“Hey, man, where’s my bike?” asks Rico, looking around.
Chase ignores him. “I’ll drive,” he says.
“My bike’s gone,” says Rico. “What happened to it?”
I hold the keys out to Chase. “Your bike is at the bottom of a very steep cliff,” I tell Rico. “In very bad shape.”
Rico looks like I’ve stabbed him in the stomach. “What? How did that happen?” he asks.
“Rico!” Nolan shrills. “This is not the time to discuss the finer points of what happened to your bike! This is a time to get the hell away from an armed criminal in a helicopter who will shoot us all in the head and throw us down the mountainside if we don’t get out of here right bloody NOW!”
Seth bursts out laughing. Within seconds, his laughter unravels into hysterical giggles. He’s starting to lose it. We’re all starting to lose it. We’ve got to get out of here.
Chase recognizes this too. “Time to move, boys,” he says. “You’re coming with me, Rico. Seth, Jamie, Nolan, you’re riding. Climb on. Let’s roll.”
Muttering about his mangled bike, Rico climbs onto the ATV. Chase fires it up. Everyone else moves to grab a bike.
“Uh, guys?” Nolan says. “My bike doesn’t have a seat.”
Seth starts giggling again.
“Right. Hang on,” I say. I race across the expanse of grass in front of the cabin. An expanse of grass that’s perfect for landing a helicopter, I realize with a queasy shudder. I snatch the seat up from where I left it after clonking Damian.
I sprint back to Nolan. “Here.” Breathless, I wiggle the seat onto the post. My fingers fly as I push down the quick-release clamp. Nolan climbs on.
“We’ll bring up the rear,” Chase adds. “You guys go.”
I look at Chase. “You sure?” The noise from the helicopter is getting louder. It’s not far now. Rico’s face is stony.
Chase nods and pats the gun on his hip. “No worries. I got your back. Seth, you’re in the lead. Take us out of here,” Chase says. It’s good thinking on Chase’s part, I realize. He knows he’s got to bring Seth back down to earth. Putting him in the lead gives him something to hold on to.
We swing up and hammer. Seth leads, and I bring up the rear. Nolan rides between us. Chase and Rico buzz along behind. The helicopter drowns out the noise from the ATV’s engine.
Suddenly, a strong wind grabs the trees and whips them around in a frenzied dance. Dust and bits of twigs rise up off the path. Soon we’re choking.
“Go, go!” I scream from the back of the line. Somehow, we speed up.
The chopper is almost upon us. With an ear-splitting roar, its top rises into view off the berm to our left. No one looks over. We just concentrate on getting the hell out of sight. Up ahead, the double track curves away and our path dives into the trees. If he spots us heading into the forest, Deuce will know where we’ve gone, but at least we’ll be under the cover of the trees.
But if we can make it into the trees first—and if he doesn’t have heat-seeking technology onboard—there’s a chance he’ll never find us.
Ahead of me, Seth slows down. What the hell is he thinking? This isn’t the time to be putting on the brakes. “Speed it up, Seth!” I screech from my place at the rear.
He shouts something back at me, but it’s lost in the roar of wind and rotors and motors. Then, suddenly, we’re stopping.
I slam on my brakes. Yanking my handlebars to the right, I clip Nolan’s back end. Nolan is pushed forward and plows into Seth. I fly off my bike, landing with a grunt in the soft grass.
Behind me, Chase moves quickly, veering the ATV in the opposite direction. He slows it to a controlled stop off the path to the left.
“What the—?” I hear him say.
“What are you doing, Seth?” I shout as I spring to my feet. “We’re trying to get away from the freakin’ helicopter, or haven’t you noticed?”
But Seth doesn’t answer me. He’s standing astride his bike. He can’t go any farther, I see now, because his way is blocked.
By an ATV.
With Mitch on it.
What the hell is going on?
chapter twenty-one
It takes me a moment to realize that the noise from the helicopter is fading. My brain clanks and squeals a bit as it processes this information. We haven’t been shot. The chopper is moving away from where we’re standing.
That means Deuce hasn’t spotted us.
Then Mitch pulls out a gun. And suddenly I understand.
Deuce has indeed spotted us.
He’s standing right in front of us.
Nolan’s the first to put it into words. “Oh my god,” he whispers. “You’re Deuce?”
Mitch ignores Nolan’s question. Asks one of his own. “You guys headed somewhere?” His face is deadly cold. So different from yesterday, when he was all smiles.
As he speaks, Mitch brings the gun up so it’s pointing at Seth. My heart stops, and the blood drains from my head. Blackness closes in on the edge of my vision.
He’s got a gun on my baby brother.
I swallow. “Mitch,” I say. My voice sounds like it’s coming from a mile away. Deep and slow, like I’m in a dream. I take a deep
breath. Breathe.
I have to stall. Figure out a way to get the gun away from Mitch. I curse the fact that I dropped Warren’s gun on the hill. Even though I don’t have a clue how to shoot it, I’d feel about a thousand percent better if I had it in my hand.
Where’s Chase? He’s got a gun. I look around, but I can’t see him. Rico’s here. But where the hell is Chase?
“Mitch,” I say again. Mitch looks at me when I speak, but he keeps the gun trained on Seth. He motions for Seth to come and stand beside him. Seth drops his bike and does what he’s asked. His blue eyes goggle out from his white face as he looks to me for help.
I’m trying my best, Seth, I think. I don’t know if I can figure this one out.
“Looks like you kiddies got in over your heads, eh?” Mitch asks. His voice is cold. “Went snooping where you weren’t supposed to.”
Nolan speaks. “We won’t tell anyone, Mitch. I promise. We swear. This can be our secret.” He looks around at us. “Right, guys?” Like robots, we all nod.
Mitch laughs. It’s a scary noise, dry and scratchy. Suddenly he stops laughing and turns his cool eyes on Nolan. “Too late for bargaining, little guy. You’ve seen too much already.” Mitch moves his thumb, and the gun makes a little click. The blackness swims around my vision again. The sound of the safety popping off is just like it is in the movies.
Except this is no movie.
This is real.
“Wait,” Rico breaks in. “If you’re Deuce, then…who was that in the helicopter?”
“That was the cops,” says Mitch calmly. I see Seth’s lips part a little bit at these words. He draws in a deep breath and closes his eyes. My own heart does a little double-skip at the thought that the police are nearby. They must have landed the chopper back at the cabin.
“I’m thinking it was one of you wise guys that called them,” Mitch continues. “Doesn’t matter who, because, see, here’s how it is,” he says, reaching inside his jacket. “None of you are gonna be talking to anyone about this. Ever.” He pulls out a long black cylinder. Screws it on to the end of his 9mm.
A silencer. This is insane.
Mitch continues calmly. “I’m going to march your stupid, snoopy little asses far into the forest and waste you all before the cops figure out what happened.”
I need to buy time to let the police find us here. I have to keep Mitch talking.
Suddenly I see Chase pop out of the trees behind Mitch. I hope to god no one’s face gives him away. I steal a quick glance at Nolan, but he’s holding it together. Seth’s facing toward us, which is good, because he wouldn’t be able to keep his head on straight. Chase gives me a thumbs-up. I raise my chin slightly in return.
I trust that Chase has a plan, so I just focus on my job. Keep Mitch here for a couple minutes longer. “Mitch, look,” I say. “We won’t say anything about this. Why don’t you just…head right back the way you came, and let’s forget this whole thing happened. We won’t tell the cops anything about you, okay?”
“Yeah,” Nolan chimes in. “We don’t want to see you in jail, man. The whole racing scene would starve.” Nolan’s pretty good at sounding cool under pressure.
Mitch laughs again. “Stop trying to stall, guys. It’s game over. Now move.” He waves me, Rico and Nolan over with his gun.
Mitch’s eyes narrow as he counts us. “Where the hell is Chase?”
Before Mitch can turn to look for him, Chase arcs his bike pump across Mitch’s body. Toward the hand that’s holding the gun. The pump makes solid contact with the back of Mitch’s hand.
CRACK!
Mitch screams and drops the gun. Lightning fast, he reaches back with his other hand to grab Chase.
I don’t wait to see what happens next. I take a running leap and tackle Mitch, pinning him to the ground. And then, like a dam suddenly opening, everyone’s on him, grabbing arms and legs and feet and hands.
In a few short seconds, we’ve got Mitch flipped over on his stomach. Rico sits on his feet while Chase holds his hands behind his back. Seth tears off a piece of duct tape to wrap his wrists.
Nolan shakes his head sadly. “Looks like it’s your unlucky day, Mitch,” he says.
Seth slaps the piece of duct tape across Mitch’s mouth as he starts to protest. He holds the roll of tape out to me. His hand trembles slightly. “Care to do the honors, Jamie?”
“No, thanks,” I say. “I’ve had more than my fair share of tying guys up this morning. Knock yourself out, little brother.”
But Seth doesn’t get the chance.
Behind us, a police dog barks. The officer leading the dog spots us and lifts a radio to his mouth. He speaks briefly and then breaks into a jog in our direction. “You guys okay?” he calls.
When he’s confirmed that we’re all in one piece, he surveys the scene. “Looks like you’ve managed to get things under control by yourselves,” he says with a note of admiration.
“Yup. We’ve snagged a nice criminal here for you, officer,” says Nolan. “Name’s Mitch Woodgrove.”
“We came looking for a guy called Deuce,” says the cop. “Isn’t Mitch Woodgrove a famous mountain biker?”
Seth nods. “He is.” He points to Mitch, who’s still pinned under Chase and Rico. “That’s your Deuce.”
A flicker of surprise registers on the cop’s face, and then he’s all business again. He speaks into his radio again, briefly, then turns to Chase. “Are you the one who called for help?” he asks.
“No, that was our brave man Jamie,” says Chase. He nods in my direction.
“Got a minute?” the cop asks me.
I nod. We walk a few steps away, and he writes in a notepad as I tell him everything I know, from start to finish. Stumbling on the grow-op. Nolan and Rico going missing. The dead sat phone. Seth being taken. My immobilizing Warren and Damian. Us realizing Mitch was Deuce. Taking him down.
As I talk, I watch them cart Mitch away in handcuffs. He shoots me a bitter glare. I can’t help but shudder.
I sketch the cop a rough map of where I’ve left Warren in the trees. By the time I’m done giving him my statement, I’m thirsty as hell. The officer thanks me and tells me I can go join the others. I look around.
A couple of cops have begun chopping down the stalks of weed with machetes. They’ve got a lot of work ahead of them. Another one drifts around the property, taking photos and writing notes. Turns out Mitch runs a bunch of these grow-ops. Or he used to, anyway. The police have been shutting them down as they find them, but they’ve never been able to get their hands on the guy.
Until today.
I join the others where they’re sitting. A police officer has already taken statements from them too and left them with some food. Granola bars, protein bars, dried fruit, beef jerky, cheese and chocolate bars. Sweet. Famished, I dive in. We pass around a couple of bottles of Gatorade.
“Well, at least they’ve finally caught Deuce,” says Nolan. “He’ll probably get twenty-five years.”
“At least,” agrees Rico.
“I just can’t believe that Mitch is Deuce,” says Chase, shaking his head. “I thought he was such a great guy.” We all nod.
“Holy hell, what a day for you, eh, Jamie?” says Rico.
I nod. “Definitely a death march,” I say. “Glad it’s over now.”
Chase punches my shoulder. “You rock, J. We’d all be dead if it wasn’t for you, you know that?” Everyone nods.
“Back at you,” I say to him. “That was a pretty nice piece of hand-smashing you pulled there at the end.”
“You know,” says Seth, chewing on a piece of beef jerky, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d have to say my big brother is a hero.”
He holds his fist out to me. I grin and bump.
“Hear, hear,” says Nolan, and breaks into applause.
While everyone is still clapping, Seth leans forward. “You know, you’ve always been my hero,” he says. He looks away. “You stupid jerk.”
“Yeah? Well,” I
say, lowering my voice and looking straight into his sky-blue eyes. “You’ve always been a stupid jerk.”
We both laugh.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank Sarah Harvey for helping me make this manuscript better with each revision. Thanks, too, to Andrew Wooldridge, who opened the door in the first place, and to the amazing, lovable and hardworking staff at Orca. You’re magic, every one of you.
Alex Van Tol grew up reading a wide range of books, from Enid Blyton to Stephen King. She has worked with kids all her life as a swim instructor, camp counselor, teacher and mother. She traded the chalkboard for the keyboard in 2007. Alex’s first novel with Orca Book Publishers was Knifepoint. She lives and writes (but no longer mountain bikes) in Victoria, British Columbia.
ALSO AVAILABLE BY
ALEX VAN TOL
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Available in English and Spanish
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