“We may find our escape vessel there!” Amy blurted out. “If Irina didn’t dock here, she may have pulled into that cove!”
“Brilliant, dear girl!” Alistair said.
“I was the one who thought of it,” Dan grumbled.
Pulling free of Nellie, Alistair pointed his cane confidently toward a distant tree. “Do you see that yellow mark high on the tree? It’s a trail blaze. If we follow the trees marked in yellow, we will reach the cove. But the marks are quite faded, so we must proceed carefully. I shall bushwhack.” He removed his jacket, placing it over his left arm, then held the arm out to Nellie. “Would you give me some support, dear girl?”
Nellie held on firmly to Alistair’s jacket-draped arm. Alistair was walking fast, whacking at vines and branches with his cane. Arif followed behind, muttering. Before long, the contents of one of Alistair’s jacket pockets began to spill.
“You’re dropping things!” Dan scooped up a comb, mints, a handkerchief, and a small blue felt pouch.
The pouch had Russian writing on it.
“Whoa … is this Irina’s?” Dan reached in and lifted out a vial of bluish liquid.
Alistair turned, mopping his brow with his sleeve. “Er, well, I saw something on the ground last night. Outside the house. I wasn’t sure what it was, so …”
Irina’s poisons, Amy thought.
Alistair took the pouch and walked away, tucking it into his pocket. He was so calm. So logical.
But … she died. These were her things. This is stealing.
Amy looked at Dan, but he was already running ahead, following the trail marks.
“Dan?” Nellie yelled. “Yo, Indiana Jones, sound off so we know you’re alive!”
They stopped. A few seconds of tense silence were followed by a shriek.
“AAAAAAGGHHHH! SNAKES! GET OFF ME!”
Amy raced ahead. Her ankle caught on a rain-slickened vine and she tumbled over a bush and down a steep, sandy decline.
She landed in mud at the bottom, stopped by Dan’s filthy Converse sneakers. He loomed above her, grinning, leaning against the prow of a large, two-level motorboat. “Found it first.”
Amy scrambled to her feet. “I thought you were being attacked!”
“That was my Indy imitation. Good, huh?”
Amy smiled and then shoved Dan backward into the water. “That,” she said, “was my Darth Vader.”
Copyright
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First published by Scholastic Inc in 2008.
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Jude Watson, In Too Deep
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