Fool's Gold (8 page)

“Before we get started I want to set up some ground rules,” Jack said.

“What sort of rules?” Red asked.

“First off, when we're in the camp,
I'm
in charge. I'm the one who knows where things are and how we have to work, so you have to listen to what I say.”

Red shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, whatever, kid, as long as you get us the gold. But I want you to understand
my
rules.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pistol. “My rules are simple. You make a wrong move, either of you,” he said, looking at me, “and I put a bullet between your eyes. Kids or no kids, I won't hesitate.”

“You don't need to threaten them,” Moose said.

“They need to know where things stand,” Red said.

“Don't worry, we'll get the gold,” Jack said. He sounded confident. He was a good actor. “The second thing is your guns. Are you
both
carrying a gat?”

The two men smiled at each other. Moose patted his shirt to reveal a lump that could only be a gun.

“Never go anywhere without one,” Moose said. “Feel like I was half naked if I didn't have it with me.”

“You have to give me your word that you won't use them,” Jack said, “that you won't shoot any of the guards.”

“Last thing in the world we want to do is shoot somebody, including one of you two,” Red said. “We're thieves, not killers. We're carrying pieces so we can defend ourselves if we need to, or take prisoners if we have to. We don't want to hurt nobody.”

“Good. Then let's stop talking and get into the boat.”

CHAPTER NINE

THE RAFT DRIFTED DOWN THE CREEK
, lazily spinning and turning as it worked its way through the eddies of water. Jack and I were both paddling but we were making very slow progress.

“We're stuck again,” Jack said as the raft pivoted on a low spot. The raft itself was big and it was carrying a pretty heavy load—four bodies … actually, more like six if you counted how big Moose was.

Without saying a word Jack climbed over the edge of the raft and into the water. I did the same. With the load lightened, and us kicking and pushing, the raft started moving again. Moose reached down then and grabbed me by the arm, effortlessly pulling me up and out of the water and dropping me into the raft beside him. He smiled. I smiled back. It was amazing just how strong he was. He was strong like, like, I guess a moose would be. Jack climbed in over the other side by himself.

“I thought you said this was a good way in to the camp,” Red said.

“It's the
best
way. It's just that the water level is
lower than it was the last time we did this, and we weren't carrying this much weight.”

“If you want, I can get out and walk,” Red suggested. He seemed more than a little anxious.

“No, that wouldn't work. Just sit back and relax,” Jack told him.

“Sit back I can do. Relax I can't. I hate boats.”

“That's'cause he can't swim,” Moose said.

“I can swim!” Red exclaimed. “Maybe not like some fish but I can do a little doggy-paddle if I need to. Besides, we're in the raft, not in the water.”

I looked over at Jack. We were both thinking the same thing—he was going to be in the water before this was over. I just hoped that the pool at the bottom of the waterfall would still be deep enough to catch us, but not deep enough to drown him.

As we rounded another corner in the creek I caught sight of the railroad trestle. Just upstream from it was the large willow that had sheltered Jack and me before. It was right at the edge of the creek and its branches reached over and then down, extending right into the water. Without saying a word we both began paddling to position the raft to enter underneath the overhanging branches. Sluggishly the raft spun slightly around and then over to the right bank. The front end disappeared beneath the branches and we followed. Jack stood up slightly and grabbed
a handful of the thin branches, using them as an anchor to stop us from drifting any farther.

“Why are we stopping?” Red asked.

“You see that trestle up there?” Jack asked.

Red turned around and peered through the willow branches.

“We have to wait here for a minute and make sure there isn't a guard coming along there. That's the very farthest corner of the camp. From that point on we're
in
Camp X.”

Both Red and Moose looked up at the trestle. I turned around so I could see back up the creek, the way we'd come. If something was following and it wanted to be close enough to keep up with us, it would have to appear pretty soon.

“If we do see a guard when we're going under the trestle we have to pretend we're fishing,” Jack said. “We'll paddle. You two should get your fishing rods out and put a line in the water.”

“Yeah, yeah, good plan,” Red said.

They began fiddling with the rods. Jack and I didn't do much fishing, but it was obvious that these guys had
never
been fishing before. They fumbled with the reels and hardly seemed to know which end of the rod to hold.

Red peered through the overhanging branches and up at the bridge. “I don't see nobody.”

“Me neither,” Moose said, although he wasn't even looking in the right direction.

“Good, then we're safe to go.” Jack let loose his grip on the branches and the raft began drifting. It bumped into the shore and Jack used his paddle to push off and out. The raft started to spin sideways and I paddled frantically to correct it. It would be bad enough going over the falls as it was—I didn't even want to
think
about going over backwards.

We cleared the overhanging branches and were aimed right at the middle of the creek. That was good because, ideally, we wanted to pass through the middle span of the trestle. Jack and I paddled while Red and Moose pretended to fish. Their lines were in the water but they didn't have bait—or even hooks, for that matter. That was probably good. I didn't think either of them would know what to do with a live fish. Maybe Red would threaten to shoot it and Moose would eat it raw and whole!

The side of the raft brushed against one of the cement foundations of the bridge but it slipped through. I looked up at the wooden crossbeams and then at the tracks directly above my head. I couldn't help thinking about standing up there, earlier in the day, looking down, and then the train coming right toward me. If I had still been on that bridge it would have been all over right there. This could have ended before it had barely even started.

I also thought about the very first time I'd ever seen the bridge. Jack and I had been drifting in our old inner tubes, cooling off, hidden beneath the branches of that willow. We'd looked up in surprise, confusion and then shock as we saw what we thought were enemy agents planting explosives, trying to blow it up. We'd later found out that the “explosives” were just lumps of clay and the “enemy agents” were guys being trained at Camp X to be spies.

If we hadn't seen them that day we never would have gone into the camp to investigate. And if we hadn't done that, then everything that followed—including this—wouldn't have happened either. Instead of being here, drifting along the river with two armed criminals trying to break into a spy camp to steal gold, we'd be sitting in school, dreaming about doing something more interesting than studying. Sometimes it's best that you don't get what you wish for.

I was startled out of my thoughts when I was hit by a splattering of water. I looked up and over at Jack. He'd splashed me with his paddle, and now he was gesturing with his head for me to look back. There was a long stretch of creek but I didn't see anything— that was what he was showing me. Sure, that had to be it. We were alone, and nobody was following us.

“Stay awake,” he mouthed at me.

That was good advice. Now that we were past the trestle we were headed toward the drop. The first time
we'd gone over—which as far as I was concerned at the time was going to be the
only
time I ever went over—it was a complete surprise. We'd been drifting down the stream, enjoying the sun and the cool of the water, and then
whoosh
! Five or ten seconds of terror and then it was over, practically before I'd figured out what was going on.

Now I knew what was going to happen. I knew it was coming. It was around the next curve or the next or the next. And even more troubling was what was going to happen after the falls. What would these two men—these two armed criminals—say to us? Would they be mad and blame us? What were they going to do to us? This was going to be so much worse than the first time.

The current seemed to be picking up speed. I looked over at Jack. He'd noticed it too, but thank goodness he was the only other one who had. The two men just sat there, clueless. Red did look anxious, but that was just his nervousness around the boat and water. If he'd had any idea what was going to play out he would have been a lot more than anxious.

The banks of the creek rose on both sides and the increase in the current and our speed was really noticeable. We were getting close. Now there was nothing we could do even if we wanted to. We were going over the falls.

The raft started to ripple as it rolled over little drops along the way, and it felt like it was alive and trying to buck us right out. I dropped the paddle to the bottom of the raft. Paddling was pointless. Steering was useless. The creek was now in complete control. I grabbed onto the lip of the raft with both hands and dug my fingers in as deeply as I could.

Red turned around to face us. His expression had gone from anxious to scared.

“What's happening?” he yelled over the rush of the water.

“Hold on!” Jack yelled back.

Red's eyes widened in panic. “What are you—?AAAAHHHHH!”

The front end of the raft—and Red and Moose— disappeared over the drop. I held both my breath and the lip of the raft, hanging on for dear life, and then I found myself flying through the air, head first, arms extended in front of me. Was this how Superman felt? Before I could think of an answer, I got an answer. I hit the water, somersaulting over and then shooting beneath the surface!

CHAPTER TEN

INSTINCTIVELY I'D CLOSED MY MOUTH
and my eyes as we flew through the air and smashed into the water. Now I kept my mouth closed but opened my eyes. Looking up, I could see daylight streaming down through the waving, bubbling water. I tried to claw my way to the surface but it felt like I was moving in slow motion. Actually, I wasn't moving at all! I was suspended, struggling to claw my way to the top while my feet were being pulled to the bottom. I kicked my feet to try to break free, wishing I weren't wearing shoes or heavy, soaked clothing. I couldn't seem to move. Strange … I didn't feel panicky … I felt calm, almost safe, protected and sheltered and hidden beneath the water.

Suddenly, somehow, I surged upward and shot out of the water. I gasped in a big breath of air. Before I could see anything I heard yelling. I turned around. It was Red. He was screaming and splashing and thrashing around in the water, and then he just disappeared beneath the surface!

Jack and Moose swam toward where he'd been. Jack dove down, his shoes the last thing visible. I treaded water, watching, waiting. Red broke to the surface, along with Jack, my brother's arm around his neck. He was struggling wildly, trying to break free, and now that he could get air into his lungs he started to scream again! He was swinging his arms around like a wild man, thrashing in the water and hitting Jack! Moose reached over and slugged Red. His fist just plowed into Red's jaw! Red stopped struggling. He slumped over, and then Moose grabbed onto him. Together he and Jack started to tow Red to shore.

“The raft!” Jack called out to me. “Get the raft!”

I looked around. It was upside down and drifting downstream. I stopped treading water and swam toward it. The current wasn't very strong and I quickly caught up. I grabbed onto the side. For a split second I thought about trying to right it but I knew that wouldn't be possible. Instead I held on with one hand and did a side stroke with the other to haul it back to shore. I had to drag it along until the water was shallow enough to put my feet down. I stood up then and started to tow it.

Jack and Moose had carried Red over to a small sand patch on the bank of the creek. He was lying on his back and the two of them were bent over him. He wasn't moving. Oh my goodness, he wasn't moving! Then suddenly Red sat up and began coughing violently, and he spat up water, an unbelievable
amount of water. Had he swallowed half the creek?

I beached the raft on the sandbar and went over and squatted beside them.

“Red, can you hear me? Say something!” Moose demanded.

He didn't answer.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked.

Red reached out and grabbed Jack by the throat, pulling him down toward him as he pulled himself up. Then, almost like magic, his gun was in his hand and he was holding it to the side of Jack's head! What was he doing?

“You tried to kill me!” he screamed. “I should blow your brains out, you stinking little—”

“He didn't try to kill nobody,” Moose said.

“He took us over the waterfall!” Red was still in a fury. “He knew it was there and he thought he could drown us!”

He lowered the gun as he looked over at Moose.

Like lightning Moose reached out and smacked the gun away with one hand, broke Red's grip on Jack with the other and then dropped his full weight on Red's chest! I couldn't believe that anybody that big could possibly move that fast!

“What do you think you're—?”

“Shut up!” Moose hissed. “Shut up and stop yelling. You want to let every guard from everywhere around know that we're here?”

Red didn't answer—with Moose's weight on his chest I didn't think Red
could
have answered.