Club Dread

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Club Dread Page 11

by Carolyn Keene


  “What do I do?” Bess yelled. Matthias had pulled out a pistol and was aiming it right for us. I looked over at Bess, about to tell her to turn the wheel and get us out of his line of sight, when I realized that was exactly what Matthias would be expecting. Instead, I leaned over and shoved the throttle down.

  If we’d been going fast before, now we were racing like a Nascar driver, skipping along the surface of the water. Matthias barely had time to react before our boat collided with his and everyone was sent flying.

  Petrovitch somersaulted through the air like a giant rag doll, and then slammed to the ground on the island where the boat had been tied up.

  I managed to hold on to the dashboard of our boat, and struggled to stay on my feet. George and Bess both fell to the floor beside me. Matthias’s boat was cracked in the collision, and quickly began to sink. But where were Frank and Joe? And where was Matthias and, more important, his gun?

  “Nancy!” I heard Joe’s voice coming from the bottom of the hover boat. I peered down and saw Joe, Frank, and Nikitin all tied up. There was at least an inch of water around their feet, and more was pouring in every minute. I rushed down to untie them, George and Bess following right behind me.

  Frank was barely conscious, and I ran to untie him first. The knots were slippery from the water and tied tightly. In the dark, it was hard to see the rope to untie it, and fear made my fingers awkward and clumsy. Between the two of us, Bess and I managed to get Frank’s legs untied.

  From beneath the dark water, Matthias suddenly emerged. Clenched in his hands was the gun, which was pointing directly at my chest.

  “Why, Ms. Drew,” he said. “We simply have to stop meeting like this. Thankfully, I know just how to ensure you never get in my way again.”

  Time seemed to freeze. In a few seconds, Matthias would shoot me. Then he would shoot George and Bess, and leave Frank, Joe, and Nikitin to drown. No one would ever know what had happened to us.

  Matthias cocked the trigger, and I looked for something to throw at him, some way to distract him, something—anything—to prevent the inevitable. Then a roar came from the dark of the swamp, and a piece of the island seemed to detach itself and come rushing out of the night. For a second, it hung in the air, a darker piece of darkness, and then it landed on Matthias. It was Petrovitch!

  I didn’t see what happened after Petrovitch jumped on Matthias.

  I heard sounds of fighting: punches landing, water splashing, the occasional grunt of pain. I was too busy pulling the ropes off Joe and Frank. We managed to get them free just in time.

  Right as we helped Frank half-consciously stumble onto the safety of the island, the hover boat gave a tortured crack! and split in two. Both sides quickly sank beneath the surface.

  Petrovitch had Matthias pinned to the ground. He was struggling weakly beneath Petrovitch, but he was no match for his giant strength. Petrovitch looked up as the boat disappeared into the swamp.

  “Androvitch? My brother! Where is he?”

  I looked around the island. There was no sign of him anywhere. Without a word, Joe leapt into the water.

  Long seconds passed. The darkness and the silence grew. An occasional bubble of air drifted up to the surface of the swamp, but aside from that, everything was still.

  The water rippled where Joe had dived in, concentric circles which grew bigger and bigger as they expanded outward from the point of impact. Then those too stopped, and there was nothing, no movement, no sound, no sign of Joe or Nikitin. I realized I was holding my breath.

  Joe’s head broke the water like a fist through a glass window. Sprays of water went everywhere. He gasped loudly, sucking air into his desperate lungs. Then he slowly raised his arms out of the swamp, dragging the limp—but still breathing—figure of Androvitch Nikitin out of the water. They were both alive!

  CHAPTER 19

  FRANK

  SURF’S UP!

  “Help!” Joe screamed. He was cornered.

  George came running through the water, Bess right behind her. Joe dodged to the right and left them in his wake. I was in the clear. Joe threw the beach ball to me—and Nancy snagged it out of the air. I tackled her. She went down like a ton of bricks.

  I had the ball in my hand, but Bess leaped onto my back before I got more than two feet. Then Joe was on top of her, and George on top of him. Soon we were all in a pile in the shallow water. When we finally came up for air, the ball was floating five feet away.

  “I think the ball is laughing at us,” Nancy said.

  “It’s just intimidated by my natural athletic ability,” Joe said, winking at Bess.

  George came up behind him and easily dunked him underwater.

  “Your natural what?” she said.

  We all headed back to our beach chairs, our game forgotten. Now that our mission was over, we still had a day to enjoy the sun. With Petrovitch’s muscle and Bess’s know-how, we’d managed to get one of the hover boats up and running that night in the swamp.

  I came to shortly after Joe pulled Nikitin out of the water. His skin was white and clammy, and the blood from his forehead had caked on his face. Mixed with the mud from the bottom of the swamp, it made him look like an extra from a zombie film. Thankfully, I knew some first aid and was able to stop the bleeding and get him bandaged up. We rushed him back to the hotel—along with a seriously angry Matthias Dunstock.

  I was still shocked that the whole thing had been a lie. I called Dad right after we got Matthias and Nikitin in custody, and he’d had no idea we thought we were on a mission. He believed our story about the essay competition—no wonder he’d seemed so good at “acting” surprised. He really had been surprised! As for Matthias, he remembered him as a good kid, and a brilliant agent, but a highly competitive one. In the end, his competitive side won out over his better nature. ATAC was taking him into special custody to try and rehabilitate him, but who knew what would happen.

  The sun was setting, and Joe, George, and Thatcher were dragging over big logs to start a fire and barbecue. Katlyn and Thatcher were good friends, and he’d convinced her to join us. Turns out she was a lot of fun when she was off the job—though Joe still wasn’t getting anywhere with her. She had brought out the hotel’s portable stereo, and we were going to finally have the party on the beach that Nancy, George, and Bess had been hoping for all week.

  “Wow,” I said as I sat down in front of the stone-lined fire pit, a little bit away from everyone else.

  “What?” asked Nancy, who had plopped down in the sand next to me.

  “Nothing. Just…wow. I can’t believe an ATAC agent would do something like this.”

  “What—do you guys believe anything just because it has ATAC’s name on it? Isn’t that kind of the opposite of what they teach you? To always be thinking for yourself?” She punched me lightly on the shoulder.

  I blushed. Nancy had a point. And I wasn’t good at being teased by girls. I changed the subject, fast.

  “So what did Mr. Thorton say about Nikitin?” Nancy had been the one to explain everything to Mr. Thorton—leaving out the whole ATAC conspiracy part.

  “Well, he wasn’t involved in any of the violence, and it seems like Matthias took advantage of his desperation and concern about his family. But Mr. Thorton still felt like he couldn’t keep him on as manager, so he’s demoted him to desk clerk. Mr. Thorton thinks he got as much punishment as he deserved by nearly dying in the swamp.”

  “That was good of him.” Mr. Thorton really seemed to care about his workers. “And Petrovitch?” I asked.

  “After Mr. Thorton let his brother off, Petrovitch was incredibly thankful. Mr. Thorton promoted him to be the head of the Wetlands Spa. And he’s paying for him to take some anger-management lessons!”

  “Hey, guys, guess what?” George had put down the firewood and was frantically clicking away on her cell phone. We all stopped what we were doing and looked up at her.

  “Turn on the news on the radio, Thatcher!” she yelled.


  Thatcher fiddled with the dials for a second before pulling up a news station. There was a blast of static, and then a voice cut through.

  “For all of you just joining us, the reports you’ve heard are true. Singing sensation Jasmina has come out of her coma and is reported to be in stable condition! We’ll have more details as they become available.”

  We all cheered. Now it really was a perfect night at the beach.

 

 

 


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