The Hidden Valley Mystery (7 page)

“Great. Run!” Gunnar waved him off, then crouched closer to Mike. “I need five minutes to fix that van so it can’t go anywhere. Meanwhile, you peek in the windows for Tuan. If you find him, signal me. Use our owl hoot again. But if the dogs start barking, run like crazy.”

“Gunnar, about the dogs,” Mike caught his elbow. “They obey the command, ‘King, sit,’ or ‘Queen, sit.’ I heard the taller man Johnny say that.”

“Thanks,” Gunnar whispered. Crouching low, he scurried along the trees in the direction of the van. Mike watched until Gunnar neared the U-shaped drive, checked the shadows, then leapt across the open grass, and disappeared behind the van.

Mike peered through the moonlight. He cocked his head and listened. The coast seemed clear. Straight across the lawn he sprang, this time to the washroom window. He flattened himself on the grass. Muffled voices murmured inside. He couldn’t make out the words. He craned past the frame and peeked in. The washroom hung in darkness, except where the door let in a crack of light. He studied the window. If he pushed in the screen, he could crawl through and hear what the men were saying.

With his left hand holding the wooden centre-bar, his right fist gently bumped the bottom of the screen. It gave way. Grasping the freed lower edge, he angled the screen outwards, and laid it against the brick wall. Next he rolled onto his stomach, and over the sill backed feet, legs, hips down through the opening. At last he felt his toe brush the toilet seat. Slowly, he drew his shoulders and head through the small space. Once inside, he turned and lightly stepped to the floor. He tiptoed across to the crack of light. With his back to the wall, he listened.

“Stupid kid, don’t speak no English,” Lou grumbled.

“Maybe that’s why he’s stealing from your van.” Walt’s voice sounded triumphant. “He’s poor, or maybe hungry. Ask me how that feels.”

“Shut up!” Lou hollered.

“Well, whatever he speaks,” Mike recognized Johnny’s voice, “he’s wasting precious time. We have to finish that last delivery, then scram to the airport if we’re going to make our flights. Lock the kid in the bathroom, and let’s get out of here.”

Mike froze. There wasn’t time to crawl out the window, and nowhere else to run!

As the handle turned, he prayed the door would swing back only enough to hide him.

Half way, it stopped.

“Hey, Johnny, the window’s wide open.”

“So what,” Johnny laughed. “That kid’s so short he’ll never climb up, even standing on the toilet seat. Besides, if he did get out somehow, he doesn’t know where this place is, or how to get home.”

Snarling, Lou kicked the door open. In hurtled Tuan and tumbled against the wall. The door slammed shut, and the lock turned. Mike put one finger to his lips and winked at his startled friend. With the other hand, he reached out to help Tuan to his feet.

Tuan grinned and pointed to the window. Mike nodded. Using his clasped hands as a foothold, he hoisted Tuan up to the sill. Out Tuan scrambled and scampered across the grass behind the trees. Mike wasted no time, but stepped to the seat. Balancing on tiptoe, head down, he jumped. With a strong grip on the sill, he shouldered his upper body further up and outside. Face in the cool, dark grass, he drew his legs through behind him. He crawled to his knees, then staggered into a run. A few moments later, he panted beside Tuan in the trees.

“I sure am glad to see you safe and sound!” Mike whispered. “Why did you hide in the van? That was really dangerous.”

“How else could I see what was in those boxes?” Tuan asked with an impish grin. “Or where your nice neighbours went?”

Mike shook his head. “You’re crazy. Anyway, let’s find Gunnar and get out of here.
Hoot-hoot-hoot
,” he cried, signalling to Gunnar that Tuan was safe. Crouching low, they sped along the dark trees. Beyond the corner of the mansion, the driveway and van came into full view. Mike grinned. Gunnar would be thrilled to see Tuan again, safe and—

“Grrruff! Gruff!”

“Gruff! Grrruff-gruff!”

The dogs! Mike grabbed Tuan’s arm and yanked him behind a tree. Something must have happened. After a few moments silence, Mike eased around the trunk. He stared at the van. Gunnar was nowhere in sight. Mike grabbed his ears as a high-pitched whistle pierced the air. It came from inside the house.

“Grrruff! Gruff!”
The van’s front door burst open. Out sprang a long black shadow and bounded toward the back of the house. A moment later, Mike heard glass smashing.

“Grrruff! Gruff!”
more barking shook the van.

From the house two figures ran into the driveway.

“Lou and Johnny!” Mike gasped. He remembered Gunnar’s warning. He grabbed Tuan’s arm. “Run!” he cried. “Run!”

CHAPTER 15 – The Chase

As fast as they could run, the boys hurtled deeper and deeper into the dark trees. A few metres further, looming through the bushes, a lanky figure leaped to meet them.

“Gunnar!” Mike wanted to shout, relieved to see his friend was safe.

“What took you so long?” Gunnar hissed, his long legs swinging beside them.

“Grrruff-gruff! Grrruff-gruff!”

“Better hurry.” Gunnar sprang ahead. “The other dog’s untied. It’s after us now.”

Through the branches they crashed, skipping over roots and fern. Mike was glad he wore long sleeves and pants. But poor Tuan—still in T-shirt and shorts—oh no! “Gunnar!” Mike caught his friend’s sleeve. “Tuan and the poison ivy! He can’t see it in the dark.”

All three staggered to a halt. “Quick,” Gunnar crouched low, “Tuan, jump on my back, and keep your head down. I’ll cut through the forest sideways, to the nearest fairway fence. From there you can run clear.”

“That will slow you too much!” Mike protested. His heart raced. “I know! Let’s split up. I’ll try to get them off your track, then circle out at our usual spot. By then I hope Freddy’s phoned the police, and they’re combing the valley,” he added.

“I hope so too,” Gunnar nodded with a frown. “But, just in case, the first one to my yard at the top of the valley, call for help. “Good luck!” With Tuan’s arms wrapped around his neck and knees digging into his sides, off Gunnar lurched to the right, angling deeper through the undergrowth and trees.

“Grrruff! Gruff!
”

Mike shivered. The dog was getting nearer!

“Gruff! Gruff!”

That voice was higher. Oh, no. Now there were two! King
and
Queen! Forward Mike hurtled, crashing noisily through the branches to attract the dogs’ attention. He must have reached the end of the mansion property. The trees leaned together, and the brush tangled in weed. Far behind, he heard the pound-pound of heavy feet.

Crack!

That was much closer!

“Gruff! Gruff!”

The dogs! Faster he smashed through the trees. Sweat soaked his shirt and slid down inside his pant legs. His heartbeats thundered in his ears.

Small and firm, something whammed against his back. Mike toppled to the ground and sprawled on his side, covering his head with his arms. “King, sit! Queen, sit!” he screamed. He felt the pressure of two paws leave his shoulder as the dog eased back on its haunches. Mike waited. When at last he looked up, above him two golden eyes glared in the dark. “Good, girl. Good, boy,” Mike sighed, “whichever you are.”

He let his muscles relax, and enjoyed the tangy softness of pine needles beneath his head. What a crazy time to think about forest scents! He wasn’t out of danger yet. But he didn’t know any other commands. What if he made a wrong move and the dog attacked?

The dog leaned down and sniffed his ear.

“Good girl. Good boy.” Mike tried to smile.

With a long sloppy tongue, the dog licked his nose and whimpered.

“Queen, sit. King, sit,” Mike repeated.

Again the dog straightened back onto its haunches. It cocked its head at Mike. In the darkness its golden eyes shone.

A few moments later, the dog stiffened, as if listening. Mike strained his ears also. Was that the same whistle he’d heard earlier? With a yelp, the dog leapt up, tail wagging. It listened again, turned, then bounded away through the shadows toward the mansion.

Mike sat up. “Whew!” He wiped the sweat from his face with a sleeve, and shook the pine needles free from his hair. He climbed to his feet. Ahead, the moonlit grass glowed eerily through the trees. In a few more strides, he reached the hole in the golf course fence. He pushed through and looked up the fairway. Had Gunnar and Tuan made it out? Did the other dog chase them, or had it been called off too? Something on the western rim of the valley caught his eye. Through the tall pines, where the Parks and Rec centre nestled, lights bobbed up and down. Red circled and flashed. “The police!” Mike cried. “Freddy did get through and call them.” But his other friends were nowhere in sight. Should he climb to the clubhouse and check with the police? Or wait at the other side of the valley, in Gunnar’s yard, as planned?

Too late he heard the bushes rustle behind him. Iron fingers closed around his neck

CHAPTER 16 – Dead Man’s Cliff

“So you thought you’d get away, kid.” The fingers tightened around Mike’s neck.

Mike knew that voice. It was Lou. Leaning closer to hiss in Mike’s ear, he smelled of sweat, cigarettes, and beer. “Well, guess what, Smarty? You’re my ticket outta here. Get going.” He let go of Mike’s neck and shoved him forward, away from the clubhouse and the police, toward the river. “That way. Show me where you kids cross.”

“I don’t know any place,” Mike lied. “I live on the other side of the valley.”

Lou smacked the back of Mike’s head so hard he fell to the ground. Mike felt the flashlight break from his belt. It bounced a few feet away.

Lou leaned down and stared hard into his face. His upper lip curled in the moonlight. “Cut the cute stuff, kid. I seen you on the street, riding your bike. Your ma is that fatty waving her arms and yakking some foreign language.” He straightened and threw his head back.

“Don’t you talk about my—”

“Shut-up, kid,” Lou kicked Mike’s leg hard. “Now, get up and show me where to cross.”

Mike struggled to his feet. His leg throbbed, but he tried hard not to limp. He wouldn’t give Lou the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt him.

“This way,” Mike muttered, heading toward the fourth-hole dogleg. As he plodded along, his mind groped for a plan. What would Gunnar do in his shoes? Gunnar? Shoes? Mike stopped. He had an idea.

“Hey, get a move on,” Lou shoved Mike forward. Them lights behind us are starting down the hill.”

“I can’t go any faster,” Mike faked a whimper. He slowed. “You hurt my leg.”

“I’ll hurt it worse, if you don’t hurry up,” Lou snarled. He pushed Mike forward again.

Mike bit his tongue. He remembered the knife Lou had flashed at Tuan. “O.K., O.K.,” Mike grumbled. “I’ll show you our shortcut.” His mind raced ahead. Instead of following the rest of the dogleg to the green, he veered left, straight toward a big willow tree on the sandy riverbank. In the moonlight, the bubbling water sparkled. “You can cross there,” Mike pointed, “on the stepping stones. It’s easy.”

Lou glared at the water frothing between the rocks. “Deep enough,” he muttered.

Mike grinned to himself. He bet that klutz would fall right in. He glanced back. Behind them, several more lights bobbed down the far valley slope. The police were getting nearer. “It’s not hard,” Mike said, stalling for time, “First you take a deep breath, like this. Then you step back as far as you can, and give it a run. Be sure you stop to catch your breath on each rock,” he lied, knowing that would sink Lou for sure.

“Shut up and just do it!” Lou growled.

“Me? I thought you wanted to cross.”

“You’re not getting away that easy, kid,” Lou snarled. “Now shut up and go! Remember,” Mike felt a sharp point poke his back, “I’m right behind you. No tricks.”

Mike shivered and took a deep breath. He didn’t like that knife one bit. This was his last chance. The faster he got across the river, the greater his head start. His leg would hurt each time he landed, but he’d have to keep jumping ahead, not lose his balance.

“Move it, kid!”

Mike felt the point jab deeper. Forward he leapt. One
OW!
Two
OW!
Three
OW!
Four
OW!
Home!

Right behind him, Mike heard a splash! There was no time to turn and look. Jumping from stone to stone had made the pain in his leg much worse. As fast as he could, he hobbled along the bank. How far ahead could he get?

“Over there!”

“There they are!” faint voices echoed across the river behind him. Or did he dream it, dizzy with pain? If only the police could close in soon. As he struggled to run, his chest heaved, his muscles strained. His strength started to fail. A few feet further and he reached the upward path. Not far behind him, he heard the squelch-squelch of Lou’s wet shoes. Maybe he could outrun Lou after all. With that beer belly and cigarette breath, for sure Lou would puff behind on the slope. Mike forced his legs to grind upward. He had to increase his lead.

Up the path he veered. The angle called new muscles into play. A week ago, here, he’d easily beaten Gunnar. But a week ago, he’d also—

Mike’s stomach turned over. His muscles sagged with fear.
Down, down
, he remembered.
Down, down,
that terrible slide through steep gravel.
Down, down,
grabbing at branches and roots.
Down, down,
helpless, falling and falling. What if he fell again? What if he never reached the top? What if those rocks at the bottom—

No! Mike tightened his stomach into a giant knot. This was no game of
Capture the Flag
. This was survival. This was real! Fresh energy surged through him.

The path grew steeper and steeper. Mike counted his steps. Rhythm, that’s what he needed. One-and-two-and, one-and-two-and, one-and-two-and. Steady, steady, up the slope, a shiny, sleek machine. Like a bike wheel, round and round, watch the silver spin. As he pushed himself higher and higher, he knew his mind was dizzying with the pain. And, worse, Lou was closing in. Mike focused his vision ahead. Harder, he had to run harder. Only a few more feet to go.