Chapter Thirteen
A Girl Named Mischief
My eyes darted around the dark, my heart racing. Were Bane and his henchmen on the other side searching for someone small enough to slip between the stones. An ice-cold cable wrapped its way down my spine. Or were they waiting for me outside, sitting on the edge of the cliff casting pebbles into the canyon?
I backed out from between the rocks and flew through the muddled mineshafts, using the footprints I had scribbled on the stones to negotiate the obstacle course. For a while I lost myself in the mindless frenzy—frantically running from rock to rock, deciphering my secret code and ignoring the arrows I’d put up to deceive any possible pursuers. I became so caught up in the game that I didn’t hear the quiet footfalls behind me. Someone was following me, someone, who was very good at tailing. You couldn’t be a private eye if you didn’t have the ability to read people. Panic surged through my body, like itty-bitty mallets hitting glass. I gulped air, trying to calm myself down. I walked faster. The footsteps behind me became the beating of drums. I turned right instead of left and went astray. The footsteps continued, clunk, clunk, clunk, down the corridor where I had just been. I backtracked and when I reached the fork, turned the other way. I dove between boulders and held my breath. The man stopped near the stones. He pulled on black leather gloves. Why? It wasn’t cold. No prints. Long seconds passed. My fingers shook as I covered my flashlight beam with my hand. I strained to hear something—the tapping of a person’s foot, the rustle of a coat, heading away. But all sounds except my own skittering pulse had left the cave. I peeked out from behind the boulder and caught a flash of blurred movement—the hem of a jacket flapping as my pursuer hurried around a corner and disappeared. My heart pounded. I couldn’t make my feet move, but I had to get out of the cave. I scrambled along the ever upward tilting path, flashlight in hand until I reached a wall. Here the tunnel was blocked by mounds of debris. I stood there for a second, trying to figure out how to negotiate the barrier when I saw Jimmy Blackjack’s skeleton in a niche opposite the rubble. As I stared at cobweb-covered bones, I realized that they don’t want me. They wanted the Stone. I had to ditch it. The only question was: Where? Placing it under a rock would be risky. All the rocks down here looked the same, and if I used my chalk to mark the spot, someone might see the footprint. I glanced around the passageway, wishing I could find the ideal location. A place so ordinary no one would pay any attention, yet distinctive enough to stand out. The pencil beam of my flashlight speared downward and fell on the silver skull. It was perfect. It took me a moment to slide the Stone out of the flashlight and wedge it inside the skull. Slowly, carefully, I placed the …show more content…
Then I zigzagged through the cave corridors until I came to the section where I would have to inchworm my way to freedom. I jammed my flashlight into my pocket and dropped to my hands and knees, trying to still my hammering heart as I began the long slide to the other side.
Halfway through the tunnel, the ground beneath me rumbled then the ceiling beams creaked and groaned. Huge chunks of black stones fell directly in front of me, and a shower of dust filled the air. I coughed, threw my arms over my head, and lingered in the swirling darkness, waiting for the rest of the rafters to tumble down on top of me.
But nothing happened. I reached forward and rolled the rocks out of my way. Then, breathing hard, I slipped the rest of way through the narrow passageway into a limestone chamber. I switched on my flashlight and saw I was beneath the ceiling of stalactites. I listened for voices but heard nothing except the faint drip, drip, drip of water trickling down the walls. I turned off the light then slowly moved toward the mouth of the cave. Again, I listened and silently prayed I wouldn’t be
A Girl Named Mischief
My eyes darted around the dark, my heart racing. Were Bane and his henchmen on the other side searching for someone small enough to slip between the stones. An ice-cold cable wrapped its way down my spine. Or were they waiting for me outside, sitting on the edge of the cliff casting pebbles into the canyon?
I backed out from between the rocks and flew through the muddled mineshafts, using the footprints I had scribbled on the stones to negotiate the obstacle course. For a while I lost myself in the mindless frenzy—frantically running from rock to rock, deciphering my secret code and ignoring the arrows I’d put up to deceive any possible pursuers. I became so caught up in the game that I didn’t hear the quiet footfalls behind me. Someone was following me, someone, who was very good at tailing. You couldn’t be a private eye if you didn’t have the ability to read people. Panic surged through my body, like itty-bitty mallets hitting glass. I gulped air, trying to calm myself down. I walked faster. The footsteps behind me became the beating of drums. I turned right instead of left and went astray. The footsteps continued, clunk, clunk, clunk, down the corridor where I had just been. I backtracked and when I reached the fork, turned the other way. I dove between boulders and held my breath. The man stopped near the stones. He pulled on black leather gloves. Why? It wasn’t cold. No prints. Long seconds passed. My fingers shook as I covered my flashlight beam with my hand. I strained to hear something—the tapping of a person’s foot, the rustle of a coat, heading away. But all sounds except my own skittering pulse had left the cave. I peeked out from behind the boulder and caught a flash of blurred movement—the hem of a jacket flapping as my pursuer hurried around a corner and disappeared. My heart pounded. I couldn’t make my feet move, but I had to get out of the cave. I scrambled along the ever upward tilting path, flashlight in hand until I reached a wall. Here the tunnel was blocked by mounds of debris. I stood there for a second, trying to figure out how to negotiate the barrier when I saw Jimmy Blackjack’s skeleton in a niche opposite the rubble. As I stared at cobweb-covered bones, I realized that they don’t want me. They wanted the Stone. I had to ditch it. The only question was: Where? Placing it under a rock would be risky. All the rocks down here looked the same, and if I used my chalk to mark the spot, someone might see the footprint. I glanced around the passageway, wishing I could find the ideal location. A place so ordinary no one would pay any attention, yet distinctive enough to stand out. The pencil beam of my flashlight speared downward and fell on the silver skull. It was perfect. It took me a moment to slide the Stone out of the flashlight and wedge it inside the skull. Slowly, carefully, I placed the …show more content…
Then I zigzagged through the cave corridors until I came to the section where I would have to inchworm my way to freedom. I jammed my flashlight into my pocket and dropped to my hands and knees, trying to still my hammering heart as I began the long slide to the other side.
Halfway through the tunnel, the ground beneath me rumbled then the ceiling beams creaked and groaned. Huge chunks of black stones fell directly in front of me, and a shower of dust filled the air. I coughed, threw my arms over my head, and lingered in the swirling darkness, waiting for the rest of the rafters to tumble down on top of me.
But nothing happened. I reached forward and rolled the rocks out of my way. Then, breathing hard, I slipped the rest of way through the narrow passageway into a limestone chamber. I switched on my flashlight and saw I was beneath the ceiling of stalactites. I listened for voices but heard nothing except the faint drip, drip, drip of water trickling down the walls. I turned off the light then slowly moved toward the mouth of the cave. Again, I listened and silently prayed I wouldn’t be