“Mollie!”
“Hey,” she whispered weakly, “New Kid.” She looked as if she’d just flown through a wall.
“You’re hurt,” he said. “I’ll get my dad.”
“No! I’m fine. I just … need to catch my breath.”
Daniel started to go anyway, but she grabbed hold of his wrist and wouldn’t let go. “You were wrong, Daniel,” she said between breaths. “About Eric, you were wrong!”
“Mollie, what happened?” he asked, coming back to her side. Now that he got a good look at her, she didn’t appear to be seriously hurt. She was, however, a mess.
Mollie was talking, but Daniel couldn’t understand what she was saying. She was in hyper mode, and her mouth moved so fast that it was little more than a blur to Daniel’s eyes.
“Mollie, slow down. I can’t understand you. Here, drink this,” he said, handing her a bottle from the bedside table. “It’ll help.” Mollie took it and sucked down its contents gratefully.
“Ugh,” she sputtered, catching her breath. “I hate apple juice.”
“Yeah, well, it’s wet. Mollie, slowly now. What’s going on?”
She sat upright and rubbed at the dirt and grit in her eyes. She already seemed more herself, but Daniel noticed that she was keeping a wary eye on the window.
“I was with Eric.”
“I kind of figured.”
“I know, Daniel, but I needed to see him, I needed to hear the truth from him.”
Daniel started to scold her; he almost opened his mouth to tell her how incredibly stupid she was, how she’d put herself in danger and caused everyone a lot of worry. But then he saw the look in her eyes, and for the first time he wondered—were Mollie’s feelings toward Eric more than friendly? He knew that Eric was important to her, but now he began to wonder just how important.
“Go on,” Daniel said.
“Well, I found him there, at the fort. And I told him everything. I hadn’t planned to. I’d planned on weaseling the truth out of him, like they do in the movies, but once I started talking, it all just kind of burst. I told him about Simon, about the quarry, about Plunkett and, of course, about the comics you found in his room.”
“And what’d he say?”
“He denied everything! I honestly didn’t know what to believe because, Daniel, you should’ve seen the look on his face—it was like I’d hurt him. Real, real bad.”
Mollie sank back onto Daniel’s bed now, and when she next spoke, her voice was softer. “Then he went kind of crazy, I think. He kept going on and on about the real Johnny Noble and how he would know what to do. Then he just left. He flew off without a word.”
“And you followed him.”
“Well, duh! I wanted to see where he was going, even though by that point I had a pretty good idea.”
“The quarry?”
“Yeah. He got there just as the sun was going down. Just one of these days I’d like to see that place in broad daylight. I bet it’s not half as scary then. I was behind him. I stayed far enough back that he wouldn’t see, and I watched as he went into that tunnel and … and …”
“What?”
“The Shroud was waiting for us. I was hiding near the entrance when all of a sudden it was there, on top of me. I couldn’t breathe.”
“The Shroud? But you said Eric went into the tunnel.”
“That’s my point, Daniel! We were wrong about him! We were so wrong.”
“Okay. Okay. But if the Shroud caught you, how did you get away?”
“Eric! It was Eric! He came out of the tunnel like a thunderbolt and started fighting! Daniel, he was really fighting—I’ve never seen anything like it! They tore up the whole quarry—rocks and dirt were flying everywhere. I thought that Eric was going to win, I really did, but the Shroud was just too strong.
“Then the Shroud saw me and I … I flew away. I left Eric there and I escaped, like a coward. But Eric is still alive. He was unconscious when I left, but he was still alive. We have to go, we have to help him!”
Daniel took a deep breath. He stood up and went over to the desk, where Gram’s scrapbook was lying open. The picture of little Herman Plunkett stared back at him from that faded photograph.
“You’re not a coward, Mollie. You couldn’t beat him alone. The Shroud wanted you to see that Eric was still alive. He wanted you to go get help; he’s taunting us. Without Eric, we have no chance of beating him, but he knows that we’ll try. He’s using Eric as bait so that he can end it all tonight.”
“Daniel,” said Mollie. “If Eric’s not the Shroud, then the photo Plunkett gave you …”
“Was a fake. It was a lie, just like everything else he’s been telling me. And I fell for it all. It’s Plunkett. He’s the Shroud and he has been all along.”
Daniel looked out the window at the stars emerging in the early-night sky. His parents would be coming up here to check on him any minute now. The entire Noble’s Green Sheriff’s Department was out searching for Eric while he was caught in a life-and-death struggle with the true villain—a twisted old man who’d manipulated Daniel and preyed upon the children of Noble’s Green for who knew how many years.
“C’mon,” Daniel said, stepping to the window. “Are you strong enough to walk?”
Mollie nodded, but her eyes were worried. “Are we going to the quarry?”
“Yes. We’ll pick up Rohan and the others along the way. Plunkett wants a fight, then he’ll get one.”
“But what do we do when we get there? You said yourself that we’re not strong enough to beat the Shroud.”
“No, but I know someone who is,” Daniel said, his jaw tight with determination. A plan was forming in his head, an outrageous plan that only a fool would try….
“So,” he said, a smile forming on his lips. “Feel like taking a trip to the junkyard?”
Chapter Twenty
Strange Alliances
The most unnerving thing for Daniel’s gang so far had been all the patrol cars. It was strange to see the police driving along slowly, searching the shadows with their high-powered floodlights. Worse still was the knowledge that the police were searching those shadows for them.
They spotted the first car as they were leaving Rohan’s house. As Rohan scurried down the tree that served as his bedroom escape ladder, they watched the car disappear slowly in the distance. By the time they saw the next one, Daniel’s parents would have noticed that he was missing, and Rohan’s disappearance might have been noticed as well. When they saw the third car, there was probably an all points bulletin warning that half the children of Noble’s Green were gone. With Louisa and Rose now in tow, Daniel couldn’t help but feel like the Pied Piper in the fairy tale, leading the village children off into the hills, never to be seen again.
As it was, they certainly didn’t look like a fairy tale—five children on bikes, skulking along the edge of the woods. Rose wanted to stop and pee every ten minutes, and of course she was scared of the dark. Daniel would have liked to leave her out of this, but she shared a bedroom with Louisa and had threatened to tell their parents if she wasn’t allowed to go along. So Louisa rode with Rose on her bike and encouraged her to hold her bladder. Along the way they explained everything to Louisa, who listened attentively but said little. Daniel knew that she had probably figured out much of it on her own anyway, but he didn’t miss her shocked look when they got to the part about Eric’s capture. Again he felt his face burn with shame. But in the end she made no judgments, she offered no reprimands. She was as good as her word—they were her friends and she was going to stick with them.
It was left to Daniel to lead the way, which was ironic, as they were headed to the last place he’d thought he’d ever be trying to find.
It didn’t take long for Daniel to locate the torn hole in the chain-link fence. He lifted the loose flap of fence so the others could squeeze through.
“Shouldn’t we be worried about night watchmen? Or guard dogs?” asked Louisa, looking over her shoulder.
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“Guard dogs?” repeated Rose worriedly.
“I don’t think anyone cares enough about this old junkyard to use guard-anythings. All we’ve got to worry about is Clay and Bud.”
“They’re enough,” said Mollie.
Once they were safely inside the fence, Daniel again took the lead. “Okay, Louisa, you hang back a little with Rose. You know how unpredictable Clay and Bud can be.”
“Bud stinks,” offered Rose.
“Yeah, so you should have no problem staying back with your sister. And no disappearing unless Louisa tells you to, okay? We don’t want to lose track of you in this junkyard. It wouldn’t be good for the mission.”
Rose saluted. In an effort to stop her constant whining, they had told the five-year-old that they were all on a top-secret mission, which delighted Rose to no end. Now every little request was met by a salute.
“You be careful, Daniel,” said Louisa. “Clay is dangerous.”
“Trust me, I’ll be fine.” Daniel remembered the pounding that Eric had received from Clay in their fight. He swallowed hard.
“Rohan, can you tell if they’re here?”
“Well, if Bud’s here, there’s one easy way to tell.” Rohan closed his eyes and sniffed the air. He immediately made a sour face.
“Oh yeah. They’re here,” he said. “Ugh, and one of them is smoking a cigar!”
When they found Bud and Clay, they were sitting in a stripped-out old van that was covered in graffiti. In several places the phrase “Bud Rules” shared space with “Clay’s Hideout—KEEP OUT!” The doors were missing and the windows were all broken out. A small camping lantern hung from the ceiling, and the two boys were sitting on either side of a makeshift poker table. Clay was chomping and coughing on a noxious cigar.
“Your bet,” he spat as foul brown saliva trickled down his chin. “See me or fold.”
“Um, I’ll … see your bet and raise you.”
“You can’t raise me.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s the rules! How many times do I have to explain everything to you?”
“Well, I might listen better if I didn’t have you blowing that smelly thing in my face all night long!” said Bud, waving away the oily smoke.
“Smelly? Look who’s talking, stink-butt. This stogie is the only thing that’s keeping me from puking all over the place!” Clay coughed. He took a long drag on the cigar, but his face was turning green with the effort.
“Yeah, well, those things’ll kill you.”
“I’ll still live longer than you unless you shut up and bet!”
Watching the two of them bicker, Daniel wondered if he and his friends could stand there all night and never be noticed. Those two might have been mean, they might have been tough, but they were about as observant as a couple of bricks. Unfortunately, time was wasting.
“Hey, Clay. Hey, Bud,” Daniel said. It sounded weird, even to his own ears, saying hi to those two. But he had to start somewhere.
The two bullies looked at Daniel, their mouths dropping open. Daniel saw Clay quickly scanning the faces of the gang behind him. Daniel knew who he was on the lookout for.
“What the heck are you all doing here?” asked Bud. “Clay, what the heck are they doing here?”
“Shut up, Bud,” Clay answered. He laid down his playing cards and stepped out from the van, his eyes warily searching the yard around them. “You’re not welcome here, New Kid. None of you are.”
“It’s no great thrill to be here,” said Mollie, holding her nose. The smell of Clay’s cigar was quickly being overpowered by the acrid stench of Bud-stink.
Daniel shot Mollie a look before going on. “We’re not here for trouble, Clay. We’re here to ask for your help.”
“My help?” Clay looked around suspiciously. “Why?”
“I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but—”
“Hey, wait a minute. Where’s your little leader? Your little bodyguard, Eric?”
Daniel took a breath. This was it, this was the tricky part.
“He’s … he’s in trouble. That’s why I came to you, because Eric’s in trouble and we need your help to save him.”
Clay studied Daniel for a long moment. He was searching Daniel’s face, looking for a hint that this was all some kind of joke, some kind of trap. When he spoke next, it was with a mean smile. “You know what? I believe you.”
He stepped forward and planted himself directly in front of Daniel, breathing cigar smoke into his face. Daniel’s eyes watered and he choked back a cough, but he held his ground.
Clay leaned close. “I also believe that you just made the biggest mistake of your life coming here.”
Daniel could hear Bud laughing a few feet away, and he could see Mollie, in his periphery, taking a step forward. Daniel waved her away without taking his eyes off Clay.
“You might be right, Clay. But let me ask you one question before you beat the stuff out of me—when do you turn thirteen?”
Clay’s smile disappeared immediately. “That’s none of your business, New Kid.”
“I bet it’s not too far off. You’re big for your age, but you’ve gotta be at least twelve, right? What are you going to do when you turn thirteen? Who will you push around then? Why, I bet even Bud’ll be able to take you. Then it’ll be Bud’s Hideout. You’ll just be his toady.”
Clay gave a snarl and shoved Daniel. It was more of a nudge, really, but nevertheless it sent Daniel skidding onto his back.
He heard the commotion as his friends began to move between him and Clay.
“No!” he shouted. “Everyone stay back! Clay’s not going to hurt me!”
“Oh yeah?” spat Clay, but he did stop. “Why shouldn’t I pulp you all right here and now?”
Daniel sat up and rubbed at his chest. He imagined the hand-shaped bruise that would be there tomorrow. That is, if he survived tonight. “Because, Clay Cudgens,” said Daniel, “if you help us rescue Eric, you’ll be able to stay strong for the rest of your life. It doesn’t have to end.”
Clay squinted at him while chewing on his soggy cigar. Daniel slowly pulled himself to his feet and brushed himself off, trying not to wince when he touched his chest. Clay took a look around at the others—at Louisa’s and Rose’s fearful expressions, Rohan’s unreadable stare and Mollie’s angry glare—then looked back at Daniel.
“Talk,” said Clay. “You’ve got five minutes.”
“It’s all I’ll need,” Daniel said. “But first, do me a favor and put out that stupid cigar.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Back to the Mountain
They were about three-quarters of the way to the Old Quarry when Daniel began to wonder which would turn out to be more dangerous—facing the Shroud in its lair or simply getting there. None of them really knew what to expect when they finally faced the Shroud as a group. Despite Clay’s cocky bravado (he’d been loudly listing the many forms of violence he planned on using against the villain), Daniel knew that it promised to be a terrible fight. But as it turned out, biking along the side of the road in the middle of the night had its dangers, too. Though traffic was scarce along the old Route 20, there was still the occasional logging truck or pickup. With each approaching car, the glow of distant headlights would send the kids scrambling for the trees, ditching their bikes and jumping for cover in the thick brush or (as often as not) thorny brambles. Daniel feared that they’d landed in a patch of poison ivy at least once.
Still, despite the occasional panicked retreat, they were making good time. They had a few flashlights between them, which they used to light their way, and though Clay’s bragging was an annoyance, it did keep them from dwelling on their fears. For that reason alone, Clay was proving to be a valuable ally—he was so irritating that everyone forgot to be afraid.
Mostly forgot, anyway. Daniel knew that in the back of each kid’s mind, there was a voice whispering that some of them might not make it back home tonight. Daniel knew this because
the voice was practically screaming in his own head. Plunkett’s plans for the children were still a mystery, but it was clear that for some reason he hungered for their powers. His motives concerning Daniel were less clear. And now that Daniel knew the truth, he was a threat to the old man. Just how far was Plunkett willing to go to eliminate threats?
“Then I’ll grab a tire iron and wrap it around his scrawny little neck,” Clay was saying when Daniel started listening again.
“Really?” asked Rohan. “And I suppose you thought to bring along a tire iron for this very purpose?”
“You know, I could always use a little Buddha kid instead,” said Clay.
“Hindu, Clay. If you’re going to use my religion as a derogative, at least get it right.”
“A deroga-what?” puffed Bud from several feet away. The plump Bud had trouble keeping up with the other kids, for which they were very grateful.
Daniel listened to the banter between Rohan and Clay for a while longer, then stepped up his pedaling and pulled ahead. Mollie was leading the pack. Her bike was apparently in police custody, so she’d had to borrow one from Louisa. It was bright pink with white pom-poms that dangled from the handlebars. Very un-Mollie.
“Hey,” he said, catching up to her.
“Hey,” she replied. One look at her face and Daniel could see that she was barely paying attention to the road—Mollie’s attention was focused on the stars.
“You know,” she said, “I could be there right now. I could be there in the time it takes for Clay to mispronounce another of his stupid insults.”
“Of course you could, but then we’d just have to rescue two kids instead of one. We’ve been over this. If we even have a shot of beating the Shroud, we have to work as a team.”
Mollie gritted her teeth, but she didn’t object. Daniel knew that she was fully aware of the Shroud’s power, and of her own limitations.
“He’ll be okay,” Daniel offered. “Eric will be okay.” But even as he said it, he heard the doubt in his own voice.
Mollie nodded, but Daniel could see the tension in her face, in the set of her jaw. By this point they were well ahead of the other kids, but no matter how fast they pedaled, it wouldn’t be fast enough. After a moment she said, “Daniel, we still don’t know … I mean, what is Plunkett? Is he a man? A monster?”