by Becki Willis
“Plenty,” Bethani assured her. “Where’s this bonfire we’re going to, and what are we going to do? Make s’mores?”
“I doubt it. Knowing Julio and Freddy, they’re going to blow something up.” She rolled her eyes and muttered something beneath her breath, something that sounded a lot like ‘idiots.’
“How long have you known those guys?”
“Long enough,” she said with a shrug. “But I just started hanging with them about a month ago.”
“I just wondered,” Bethani said, her voice hesitant. “Because… you don’t seem to fit in with them, you know?”
Tasha stiffened, but Blake gave her a gentle nudge. “That’s a good thing, not an insult.”
“Oh.”
“Is Julio always such a jerk?” Megan asked. “He was all like ‘me cave man, you woman.’ I thought he might club me over the head and drag me off by the hair.”
“He was actually on his best behavior tonight. You should see him some nights, all moody and quiet. Goes off by himself and sulks.”
“If he’s such a jerk, why do you hang with him?” Blake asked.
Tasha shrugged, her eyes downcast. “It’s not like I have a bunch of other options. It’s better than sitting at home alone.” She glanced up and motioned with a black fingernail. “Turn up here.”
They followed the small line of cars out of town and down a dirt road. As they crossed a long wooden bridge, the cars in front of them slowed so they could toss empty beer cans out their windows.
“Bookerman’s Bridge?” Blake guessed.
“The one and only.”
Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, the misfits, plus one, continued down the road until the vehicles ahead turned into a lane clearly marked ‘Private.’
“Where are we?” Bethani asked.
“Some old warehouse,” Tasha said. “It used to be an oil field service, but it’s been empty for a while.”
“Is this where the bonfire is? I don’t see it.”
“Just wait. You’ll see it soon enough.”
Tasha got out on Blake’s side, as the other two girls slid from the passenger’s side. “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Bethani whispered to Megan. “Stay close.”
Over Tasha’s purple-streaked head, Blake sent his sister a loaded look. They could still communicate without saying a word.
“We don’t have to stay long,” Tasha offered.
“Sounds like a plan.”
There were only two other girls at the bonfire, and a half-dozen boys. Bethani tried to keep their names straight but found it easiest to think of the boys as Jerk 1, Jerk 2, and Jerk 3. Even though they were the biggest jerks of all, she knew Freddy and Julio by name. Another boy was called Smokes.
One of the girls, a black girl named Nae Nae, came up to where the twins huddled with Megan and Tasha. The wind had picked up, making the night air feel even colder, particularly on the rise where they stood. The warehouse sprawled below them in a lower field.
“This is going to be awesome,” she said excitedly. “This is the last trial run. Julio thinks he has it down now.”
Blake gave Tasha a quizzical look, but she avoided eye contact.
“Where’s the bonfire?” Megan asked.
“Right there,” Nae Nae said with a jerk of her head.
Her friends moved about in the dark, busy circling the old building and talking among themselves. The wind carried their voices in the other direction, making it hard to hear what they said.
“All I see is the building.”
“Well, duh.” Shaking her head, Nae Nae muttered something beneath her breath and stalked off to find the others.
A flame sparked in the distance, near the back of the massive structure. Another flared to life on the right side of the old warehouse, immediately followed by one on the left. High-pitched laughter caught and carried on the wind, their torches blazing as they ran through the darkness. The red-haired girl stumbled and let out a long string of curse words, demanding that Nae Nae help her. The pair staggered back to the hill with the others as Julio quietened the group and made his announcement.
“I figure we have no more than fourteen minutes between the first charge and when the first fire engine arrives. Django, you timing us?”
Jerk 2 held up a stopwatch and whooped.
“Sher, you and Bobby are lookouts. Nae Nae, you serve the beer. Moon Girl can help you.” He winked at Megan. He turned back around, assuming she would jump to do his bidding. He cupped his hands over his mouth and called to the lone boy still down by the warehouse. “Ready, Smokes? Fire in the hole!”
The wind was against them, but a voice floated out from the darkness. “Fire in the hole!”
A loud boom rent the night air, throwing flames into the dark sky and shaking the very ground where they stood. Bethani lost her footing and almost tumbled off the hill, but Tasha and Blake helped her back up. While the other kids hollered and whooped with glee, the frightened twins and Megan turned on their new friend.
“What the hel—heck is going on?” Blake demanded.
“Their idea of fun,” Tasha said sheepishly.
The echo of the boom died away, but the crackle and hiss of fire took its place. With the wind’s help, the flames burned hot and high.
“Did you see that? Did you freaking see that?” Smokes screamed in excitement, running back to meet his friends. While he and the other guys exchanged chest bumps, Blake grabbed his sister and Megan’s hands. “We’re getting out of here. Now.” He shoved them toward the truck and turned back for Tasha. “You coming with us, or you staying with these losers?”
She looked over her shoulder, at the eight kids who had just set a warehouse on fire. It was the first time she had actually seen them in action. She thought their claims of arson were nothing but empty bravado and false posturing.
“I’m coming with you!” she said, joining them in a race for the truck.
“Hey, you get back here!” Julio cried, seeing the group defecting. He took it as a personal insult. He shook his fist and started up the hill, spittle flying from his mouth and disappearing into the wind. “Nobody leaves until I say so, you got that?” He stalked toward them, but Blake and the girls quickened their pace. They took off at a run, making it to the truck before the others could stagger up the hill and charge the truck.
Chapter 21
She seemed to fall forever.
Despite her own warning just seconds earlier, Madison let out a loud scream and rolled head over heels down the side of the hill.
“Maddy! Maddy, are you okay?” Genny scrambled to the edge of the drop-off, trying to determine the best path down. She used her flashlight to search for her friend but saw nothing. Her voice, low but stern, took on a no-nonsense tone. “Talk to me, Madison Josephine Cessna Reynolds, so I know you’re still alive!”
Upon further investigation, Genny realized it wasn’t a low wall Maddy had seen, covered with tin. It was an entire building, backed up to the embankment with only its tin roof visible from above. It was built at river level and most likely used as a storage shed for machinery, meaning her friend had taken a long and nasty fall. Her voice turned frantic. “Maddy, talk to me!” she begged.
Madison’s voice was strangled and weak, but it carried above the sound of the river. “Alive,” she croaked from somewhere below.
“I’m coming down.”
Bracing her hand on the rusted tin of the building’s roof, and her foot against the crumbling brick exterior, Genny more or less climbed down the side of the old building. She clung to a nearby sapling for support when she could, and half-crawled, half-fell the rest of the way to the ground. Scrambling to her feet, she softly called for her friend again.
“Down here.”
By the time Genny reached her friend, Madison had struggled into a sitting position, examining her arms and legs for open wounds and broken bones. Finding neither, she removed sticks and leaves from her hair.
“Are you okay?�
�� Genny squealed, not bothering to censure her volume.
“Been better.”
“Did you break anything?” When she attempted to rise, Genny shook her hands. “Don’t get up just yet. Take a minute to gather yourself.”
“This ground is cold and wet. Help me up.”
It took two efforts, a mumbled curse or two, and quite a few grunts and groans, but Madison was finally on her feet. “I lost the rope,” she realized. “We need to find it.”
“I’ll go back.”
A few feet away, Genny stumbled across the coil of rope. Literally. She caught herself just before falling. “Found it.”
“Shh,” Madison said. “Listen.”
They cocked their heads, straining to hear over the sounds of the river and the wind. It was faint, but the sound came again. A shrill whistle, somewhere nearby.
“Granny Bert!” Madison cried with relief.
“How do you know?”
“Don’t you remember the signal? My grandparents used that pattern—two long, five short—as a call for help. Grandpa Joe taught me that if I was ever lost in the woods, or needed help, to use that same code. Holler, whistle, honk the horn, whatever it took. Two longs, five short. Granny Bert used it when she called us in from riding our bikes. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh, yeah, I do,” Genny said, breaking into a grin. “She used to blow the car horn. If we didn’t hear the horn, we heard all the dogs barking!”
“Thank the Lord, she’s alive!” Until now, Madison hadn’t allowed herself to think the alternative. Sheer relief made her legs weak, more so than any twenty-foot tumble. “That black glob in the shadows must be the old power house. I think the sound came from there.”
“We should still be careful,” Genny cautioned. “She may be able to whistle, but that doesn’t mean that Maury guy isn’t somewhere nearby. He may have heard you scream.”
A sound made them both freeze. A stick snapped in the darkness, followed by the rustle of leaves. Someone, or something, was in the woods with them.
Madison put a cautioning hand on her friend’s arm. The women barely dared to breathe as they shrank back against the slim trunk of a tree. The sound shuffled again in the leaves, and something white glowed in the night. Glancing down at their own attire, Madison breathed a sigh of relief that she and Genny both wore dark colors. Maury’s white shirt peeked from his coat, making it easy to track his progress as he moved between them and the storage shed.
Feeling a stone beneath her feet, Genny carefully bent to retrieve it. She didn’t need to tell Madison the thoughts running through her mind. As usual, they were on the same wavelength. Tossing it as hard as she could, Genny threw the rock well in front of the man who searched for them. When he hurried his pace, traveling away from the women, they moved stealthily through the darkness, inching closer to the abandoned power house.
Calling on long-forgotten softball skills, Madison launched another stone, hers sailing even further than Genny’s.
“Show off.” Genny barely breathed the word aloud, but it earned a crinkled nose from her friend.
Granny Bert whistled again, the coded rhythm confirming her presence in the old ruins.
As Maury moved closer to the storage shed, the women moved closer to the massive structure that once produced water-generated power for the old mill. Close enough now to make out details amid the thick night shadows, they soon discovered another problem. Built directly upon pilings planted deep in the river, the ground floor of the old structure was well above their heads. They needed to find an entry point, quickly and quietly.
“One more rock,” Genny whispered, hoping to keep Maury occupied long enough for them to find a way in. She heaved another stone, but it hit an unseen tree and landed with a thud, much too close for comfort.
A brief flash of light, probably from his cell phone, shot across the woods as Maury turned toward the sound. Genny gulped, and Madison reached for another stone, this one heavier than the others. She pulled back her arm and threw it with all her might.
They never knew if it was the stone or a falling limb, but something clattered atop the tin roof of the dilapidated shed. It made a resounding racket in the night. Something else creaked and gave way. A loud crash echoed through the hollowed building.
While Maury undoubtedly turned and rushed to the shed, Madison and Genny rushed toward the power house, less concerned now with making a racket of their own. They found the opening they hoped for, helped each other over the trash and litter of fallen brick and crumbled iron, and stepped into the ruins.
Chapter 22
“Get in! Get in!”
Blake yelled at the girls as they ran for the safety of the truck. Fire crackled in the night sky and the acrid scent of smoke burned their nostrils.
He didn’t wait for seatbelts. The minute he heard Bethani’s door click shut, Blake gunned the motor and the truck lurched forward. For one awful moment, he thought he was stuck in the sandy soil, but he slowly turned the wheels. Dirt flew in all directions. The tires spun as they found traction and the truck fishtailed out of the drive.
Behind them, an enraged Julio railed in anger and threw his blazing torch after them. It barely missed the truck, but from his rearview mirror, Blake saw it fall to the ground, bounce, and tumble. It rolled toward the other vehicles, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
Blake threw on his brakes. Without the aid of seatbelts, everyone flew forward, himself included. While the girls grabbed for the dash and Megan complained of a jammed finger, Blake opened his door.
“Call 911,” he told Tasha. When she hesitated, he prodded her into action with his elbow. “Do it!” he barked
“Where—Where are you going?” Bethani asked.
“I’ve gotta go help them. If that fire spreads beneath the cars, they’ll all blow.”
Bethani grabbed her brother’s arm. “Wait! Don’t go!”
His face was pale, but his jaw set with determination. “I have to, Beth. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Be careful!” All three girls chimed as one.
Blake took off at a run, calling for the other boy to help him. “Come on, Julio! We have to move these cars!”
The warehouse fire raged behind Julio as the fire from the torch smoldered before him. Neither was a match for the rage boiling inside the rebel teen. Blinded by anger, Julio did not understand.
“Get away from my ride, man! Smokes! Django! He’s stealing our cars!”
Not wasting precious moments with explanations, Blake jerked open the door of the first vehicle, hoping the keys were in the ignition. As he started the motor, Julio ripped the door from his hand and pulled Blake out by the collar of his shirt. The angry teen punched Blake in the stomach.
“Nobody steals from me!” Julio yelled. “And nobody, I mean nobody, walks away from me!” His next punch landed in Blake’s unprotected face.
Before the ragtag team’s leader could hurl his third punch, one hundred and ten pounds of blond fury launched onto his back. Bethani flung herself upon the boy and hooked her legs around his waist, leaving her hands free to pound his head and pull on his hair.
“What the—you crazy girl! Get off me!” Julio straightened and spun, crushing the girl between him and the car, but Bethani refused to release her hold. She dug her fingers into his neck and tugged, kneeing him like a horse until he staggered forward.
“Go, Blake! Move the car!” she called over her shoulder. She kneed Julio again for good measure.
A bit dazed from the attack, Blake slung the hair and the blood from his face and jumped back in the car, pulling it forward. Only then did he notice that Megan had already pulled one of trucks to safety and was running for another.
“Go back, Megan!” Blake yelled. He barely took time to put the car in park. He wasn’t sure he killed the motor. He only knew that Megan was feet away from disaster.
The auburn-haired girl was already in the front seat. Blake ran toward her, frantically waving his arms. “
Don’t start it!” he yelled. “Don’t start it! Put it is neutral and get out! Get out now!”
Megan couldn’t see it, but the fire was almost beneath the truck she sat in, the flames licking at the back tires. If she started the motor, exhaust from the engine would combust and the truck would surely explode. Blake couldn’t let that happen.
“Get out! Put it in neutral and get out!”
Confused, Megan slipped the gear into neutral but kept her foot on the brake. She opened the door to ask what he meant, her hand poised on the keys. As Blake raced by, he jerked her arm and flung her unceremoniously to the ground. She hit the grass hard but came up with fire in her eyes and spit on her tongue.
Her eyes widened when she saw the real fire, at eye level, moving toward her. Fast. Megan scrambled to her feet and ran, vaguely aware of Blake putting himself between the flame and the tailgate.
“Blake!” she screamed. “Come on!”
Using all his strength, Blake gave the truck a mighty push. It rolled forward and down a slight incline. Blake didn’t stand around to watch its slow descent across the pasture and into the nearby fence. He felt the scorch of fire against his jeans and turned to run, heading for the next vehicle.
Freddy stepped in front of him, sliding behind the wheel of a beat-up Camaro. “Thanks, man. You saved our asses.”
Without another word, he turned the key, gunned the engine, and shot off into the night, barely giving his passenger time to close the door.
Finally free of the blond latched onto his back, Julio refused to be as gracious. He spat obscenities into the wind and stormed away without another word.
Tasha found a fire extinguisher in Brash’s truck and ran to help her new friends. While Bethani and Megan kicked dirt onto the fire left by the torch, Blake ruined a pair of boots as he stomped out the flames. For the first time, he was thankful his sister insisted he wear his oldest pair tonight.
Between the four of them, they fought the secondary fire down to a smolder. There was no hope for the fire raging in the warehouse below. As the rebel teens responsible for the fiasco turned tail and ran, Blake and the girls made certain the danger was minimal until the fire department could arrive.