The Super Spies and the High School Bomber

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The Super Spies and the High School Bomber Page 10

by Lisa Orchard


  When she reached the back of the greenhouse, Sarah glanced at Jackie and raised her hands in a gesture of confusion. Jackie imitated her move and the girls met in the center aisle.

  “I don’t see it anywhere,” Sarah said.

  “Me either.”

  “We’re going to have to walk around outside,” Sarah whispered and pointed to a back door. “I wonder if we can go through there.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Jackie brushed her curls away from her face. “Let’s go, girlfriend.”

  Leading the way, Jackie walked toward the door. Sarah glanced back toward the front looking for the old woman. When she didn’t see her, Sarah followed her friend to the back of the building.

  When she caught up to Jackie, Sarah grabbed her arm. “Be really quiet when you open the door.”

  “Okay.”

  Jackie pulled on the door. It opened with a rusty squeak and Sarah winced at the sound before following Jackie through.

  They found themselves facing a greenhouse. Perched on the door was a sign that read Employees Only.

  “Bummer.” Jackie pressed her lips into a tight line. “It’s probably locked.”

  “Probably.” Sarah walked around Jackie and tried the door. “Yep, it’s locked.” She squinted in the sun. “Well, let’s walk around on the outside. That truck has got to be here somewhere.”

  “No doubt.”

  As she strolled around the side of the greenhouse, Sarah cast furtive glances around her, watching for the old woman and the bombers.

  The gravel crunched under Sarah’s feet. It sounded like thunder booming. Turning the corner, they came to the back of the greenhouse. Parked behind it was the green truck with a cap on the back of it.

  “That cap is a new development,” Sarah whispered.

  “Yep.”

  Sarah and Jackie exchanged a quick glance and scurried up to the vehicle. Peering inside, Sarah frowned at the fast food wrappers and soda cans littering the floor.

  “Do you think it’s the same truck?” Jackie asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ll check the plate number.” Sarah dashed to the front of the truck and studied the plate. “It’s the bomber’s truck.” She hustled back to the door and found it unlocked. “I’m going to look inside.”

  “I’ll be the look out,” Jackie whispered.

  Sarah climbed inside and wrinkled her nose at the faint scent of oil. The seat felt greasy. Gross. Grimacing, Sarah wiped her hand on her shirt. She reached for the glove compartment and pushed the button to open it. Nothing happened.

  Sarah struggled with the entry of the glove compartment for a few more minutes, before giving up. It must be locked.

  She sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. It was at least twenty degrees hotter in the truck and sweat trickled down her back. Peering through the window, she made eye contact with her friend.

  Jackie gave her the “thumbs up” sign. Sarah nodded, then ducked down searching under the seats. She cringed as she pushed greasy food wrappers aside. These guys are total slobs.

  Sarah almost screamed when she pulled a mouth guard out from under the seat. The clear plastic had turned a dingy yellow and she could tell it was old. The mouth guard had been ripped right at the spot where it was supposed to attach to the football helmet. Disgusted, she threw it down and grimaced before wiping her hand on her shirt again. This time she looked under the seat before sticking her hand beneath it. Spying a black object, she pulled it out. A cell phone. Who leaves a cell phone under their seat?

  Sarah jumped at the sound of someone knocking on the window. Frightened, she looked at Jackie’s frantic gestures.

  She opened the door. “What?”

  “I hear voices.”

  Sarah slipped the cell phone into her pocket and hopped out of the truck. The blood pounded in her ears as her pulse raced. She scurried to the side of the building.

  Peeking around the corner, Sarah spotted the two bombers strolling toward them. She gasped and her legs turned to jelly. Her heart beat even faster and her hands started to shake.

  Sarah grabbed Jackie’s arm. “We’ve got to hide.”

  “Where?” Jackie opened her arms wide as if she were a presenter of prizes on a game show.

  Sarah had the unrealistic image of Jackie bowing at that moment. Despite her fear, Sarah suppressed a bubble of nervous laughter. She looked around and spied the back door of the building. “Let’s try the door.”

  Leading the way, Sarah raced to the entryway and found it locked. Dread filled her heart as she searched for a hiding place. “Behind the truck.”

  “Are you kidding me, girlfriend?” Jackie gave her friend the wild-eyed stare of a horse about to bolt.

  Sarah pulled her toward the back of the truck. “No, I’m not kidding.”

  “Don’t you think they’ll see us in their mirrors?”

  Sarah stopped and frowned. “You’re right.” She chewed on her thumbnail.

  “How about underneath the truck?” Jackie pointed.

  “No way,” Sarah shook her head. “They could run over us. I’m so not hiding underneath the truck.” Sarah’s eyes darted, in search of a hiding place. “Let’s hide in the back.”

  “What?” Jackie whispered in protest. “They could drive off with us inside.”

  The crunch of gravel sent a wave of fear through Sarah’s body. “We don’t have a choice—they’re coming!” She glared at Jackie, willing her to get inside the truck.

  Without another word, the girls dashed to the back of the pickup. Jackie groaned and opened the cap. Hesitating for only a moment, she climbed on the bumper and disappeared inside. Sarah quickly followed her. When she pulled the cap door shut, it closed with a bang.

  Jackie shot Sarah an accusing look.

  Sarah ignored her and searched the bed of the truck. She spied a tarp. It covered something that sat near the cab. She scrambled around Jackie and pulled on the tarp. “Quick, under here!”

  Working together, the girls concealed themselves underneath the tarp. The sound of crinkling plastic caught Sarah’s attention. She felt around her and touched plastic bags filled with something. Sarah sniffed. That smell—it’s the same one that was in the cabin…fertilizer.

  The sound of voices sent Sarah’s heart into a frantic beat. Pressing her body against the bags, she hoped her outline couldn’t be seen outside. She nudged Jackie closer.

  They huddled against the bags. The metallic groan of the door as one of the men opened it sent shudders through Sarah’s body. The truck heaved as he got in, then it heaved again as the other passenger climbed inside. She exhaled a deep sigh when she heard the thunk of the truck doors closing.

  The roar of the engine sent chills down Sarah’s spine. She held her breath when she felt the movement of the truck as it drove slowly out of its parking spot.

  Chapter Eight

  The rickety pickup rumbled down the driveway. Strains of the Talking Heads song, “Burning Down the House” drifted into the back and Sarah exhaled another sigh of relief. It surprised her that she could hear the radio above the sound of her frantic heartbeat. She clenched her hands and realized they were sweaty.

  Jackie grabbed her arm and squeezed. “Where are we going?”

  “I have no idea. Just sit tight. Hopefully, they won’t go far.”

  “Girlfriend, they could be going anywhere.”

  Sarah sighed. “I know, but we didn’t have any other choice. How were we going to explain being inside their truck?” Sarah pulled the cell phone out of her pocket. “I found this under the seat.”

  Jackie groaned. “Why’d you keep it? They’re going to be looking for that.”

  “I know.” Sarah shifted beneath the tarp and put the cell phone back in her pocket. “I’ll toss it back in when we leave.”

  The girls sat in grim silence. Sarah shifted again, trying to get comfortable. The truck jerked down the road, causing them to bounce around. We must be on a dirt road. Gripping a plastic bag, Sarah
hoped to steady herself. I’m going to be covered with bruises.

  Jackie groaned and shifted. “Peek out and see where they’re going.”

  Sarah shook her head. “No way, they’re right in front of us. All they’d have to do is look in the rearview mirror and we’d be goners.”

  “The cap windows are tinted. They can’t see in here.” Jackie lifted the tarp so Sarah could crawl out.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  The truck careened around a corner. Sarah lost her balance and collided with Jackie. She regained her footing as the truck straightened out and picked up speed.

  “It feels like we’re on a highway,” Sarah said above the din of the motor.

  Jackie frowned and her head dipped with the movement of the truck. “We better check where we’re going.”

  Sarah got up on all fours and crawled toward the side of the vehicle. She kept her head down so the men wouldn’t see her moving. When she reached the end of the tarp, she peeked out. Cars zipped by and Sarah realized they were indeed on a highway. Looking at the landscape speeding past, Sarah picked up on some familiar landmarks. There was the service station sitting on the corner, just off the Harrisburg exit.

  Sarah sighed and relief flooded her body. She scurried back toward Jackie. “They’re heading toward town.”

  Jackie slumped against the bags as if her body had turned to jelly. “Good.”

  After another five minutes, the truck slowed. Sarah grabbed Jackie’s arm. “I think we’re here.”

  Her friend crossed her fingers. “Let’s hope they stop.”

  The pickup stopped and idled. Sarah peeked out and heard the click-clack, click-clack of the turn signal. She raised her head a few inches higher and noticed that they were right outside of Hinkle’s. “They’re parking.”

  She scrambled back under the tarp and clung to the plastic bags. Jackie huddled next to her.

  The bombers pulled into a parking space, and the engine sputtered and died. All was still.

  The groan of the truck door opening sent waves of panic through Sarah’s body. Sweat broke out under her arms and her body tensed as she listened. The truck sprung up as one of the men stepped out. It sprung up again as the other passenger exited the vehicle.

  The sound of shoes scraping against concrete sent chills down Sarah’s spine. Don’t look in the back! She held her breath. In the distance, she heard the bell that hung on the door of the restaurant. They’re going inside.

  Sarah grabbed Jackie’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  She scurried toward the back of the pickup. Jackie was right behind her. Reaching the back window, Sarah peered out. “The coast is clear.”

  Sarah was halfway out of the vehicle when the tiny tinkle of the bell above the restaurant door sounded again.

  “Hang on, I forgot my wallet,” the gruff voiced man yelled.

  Sarah moaned as dread coursed through her body and seemed to make her movements slower. She stumbled off the bumper and frantically motioned for Jackie to hurry.

  Her friend scrambled from under the cap, her eyes darting around her. She grabbed Sarah’s arm and whispered, “Let’s get out of here.”

  The door to the cap slipped from Sarah’s hand, closing with a bang. She grabbed Jackie’s arm and pulled her toward the street. She heard the scuffling of shoes on the pavement and figured the noise of the cap door had drawn the attention of the bomber.

  “Hey!” he yelled.

  Sarah glanced over her shoulder. She studied the bomber. His resemblance to the actor in the movie The Fighter was uncanny.

  She remembered that she wasn’t supposed to watch the movie. Her aunt had said it was too violent. Of course, that had made Sarah more determined to see it and she had convinced her uncle that it was okay. Shaking her head, Sarah faced forward and quickened her pace.

  The girls were halfway across the street.

  “Hey!”

  Sarah’s heart raced as she looked over her shoulder again. The man was loping toward the restaurant. He appeared to be favoring his right leg.

  “We’ve got to get moving,” Sarah urged.

  “Where?”

  “Let’s duck into one of these stores.”

  “Let’s go into LeeAnne’s. It’s just down the street. They’ve got clothes our size.”

  “We’re not going shopping.” Sarah scowled.

  Jackie snickered. “Why not? You think those guys won’t look stupid in that store?”

  Sarah smirked. “Probably.”

  “We can slip out the back,” Jackie added as she peeked over her shoulder.

  Sarah witnessed the alarm flashing in her friend’s eyes and stole another glance behind her.

  The men had come out of Hinkle’s again. They searched up and down the street. The bald one spotted Sarah and pointed. Both men started jogging toward the girls, but the bald one fell behind quickly. Irritated, he motioned for the younger one to continue the chase while he slowed his pace.

  Sarah gulped. LeeAnne’s sat on the corner of Main and Jefferson. They were only twenty yards away. She broke into a jog and Jackie matched her stride for stride.

  Stealing another glance back, fear ran through Sarah’s body like an electrical current. The younger man was only a block away and he was picking up speed. Sarah’s stomach clenched into a painful knot. She ran faster, pulling Jackie with her. The girls reached LeeAnne’s and dashed inside.

  The jingle of the chime above the door grated on Sarah’s nerves. She had forgotten it was there. She turned around and glanced out the window. The bald man had caught up to the younger one and was pointing at LeeAnne’s. The men wore grim frowns as they made their way toward the shop.

  Sarah pulled Jackie forward and the girls ran right into a sales clerk filling racks with women’s dresses. The clerk stumbled against a display of hosiery, knocking it over.

  “I’m so sorry,” Sarah sputtered. She returned the display to an upright position. Scanning the store, she observed that it was filled with women. They’re having a sale. We’ll never make it through.

  “That’s all right, sugar,” the clerk responded, capturing Sarah’s attention.

  The clerk appeared to be in her late fifties with platinum blonde hair and a fake tan. Her sun-damaged skin reminded Sarah of a withered potato. Dull, brown eyes peered at her from a cave of wrinkles.

  Just as Sarah placed the last package of nylons in the display case, the chime above the door jingled. Her body flooded with dread and her mouth was suddenly dry as cotton. “We’ve got to go.”

  “Why are you girls in such a hurry?”

  “We’re late.” Jackie pushed Sarah forward.

  Sarah resisted Jackie’s push and stared at the clerk. “Is that the guy from the movie The Fighter?”

  “The actor?” The clerk faced forward, searching the front of the establishment.

  Sarah nodded and raised her voice. “Well, the actor from the movie The Fighter just walked in the door.”

  Excited squeals filled the air—Sarah felt a glimmer of hope. We just might get away.

  The clerk stared at Sarah. “Really?”

  Sarah nodded and pointed. There was a flurry of activity as the women made a dash for the entryway. Stepping aside, Sarah avoided being trampled by several ladies rushing forward. She heard them say as they rushed by, “I’ve got to get his autograph.”

  Sarah spun toward the back door. “That just bought us some time.”

  “No doubt.”

  The girls rushed to the back. Flying through the back door, the jingle of the chime barely registered with Sarah. She jogged through the back parking lot. Jackie was right behind her. The area was a public lot for all the businesses that backed up to it. Sarah scanned the lot; it was deserted. She continued jogging toward Sycamore Street.

  “Hey!”

  Sarah groaned and looked back. The two men were moving toward them wearing angry scowls.

  “What are we going to do?” Jackie asked in a shrill voice.

>   “I don’t know.” Sarah glanced around, searching for an escape route. She saw a police cruiser drive around the corner. “Let’s go to the police station. It’s only a couple of blocks from here.”

  “Sounds like a plan, girlfriend.”

  The girls made it to Sycamore Street and hurried toward the station. They rounded the corner onto Broadway and continued their journey.

  “Why’d you go this way?” Jackie sputtered as she looked back over her shoulder.

  “I figured this street is busier. They’re less likely to grab us in public.”

  “You hope.”

  Sarah grimaced. “Yeah, I hope. Are they still back there?”

  Jackie glanced over her shoulder. “Yep.”

  “How close are they?”

  “About a block behind us.”

  The girls broke into a run. They made it to the corner of Broadway and Main where they hesitated for the traffic light. A spark of fear exploded in Sarah’s belly. She danced from one foot to the other, studying the cars as they sped past. Sarah grabbed Jackie’s arm and pulled her into the busy street.

  “What? Are you crazy?” Jackie shrieked.

  Sarah didn’t respond. She dodged between the cars. Horns blared and tires screeched sending shudders down her spine. Blood pounded in her ears as she tried to time her movements with the oncoming traffic.

  A car squealed to a stop inches from Sarah. The next thing she heard was a booming crash and the sickening sound of crunching metal. Angry shouts and the hissing of steam got Sarah moving. She pulled Jackie with her and reached the opposite side of the street without injury.

  “You are seriously insane,” Jackie said as she gasped for breath.

  Sarah glanced over her shoulder; the bombers were closing the gap. Fear overwhelmed her. She stumbled. Jackie grabbed her arm and kept her upright. A bubble of hysterical laughter tried to force its way out. Clamping her lips together, she stifled it.

  When Sarah cast another look back, she realized the men had narrowed the distance. Her throat seemed to close. She clenched her hands to keep them from shaking.

 

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