Nick and Tesla and the High-Voltage Danger Lab by Bob Pflugfelder & Steve Hockensmith

Author:Bob Pflugfelder & Steve Hockensmith [Pflugfelder, Bob & Hockensmith, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quirk Books
Published: 2023-09-26T00:00:00+00:00

3. Follow the trail.

CHAPTER 9

Nick had never been on a stakeout before. It might have been kind of cool if he hadn’t been riding a purple paisley bicycle built for a girl half his size.

There had been only one bike in Uncle Newt’s garage: an old-fashioned ten-speed buried under so many cobwebs it looked like a giant spider had tried to wrap it in a cocoon. Nick and Tesla flipped a coin for it, and Tesla won. Which was why Nick got stuck with the bike that belonged to DeMarco’s little sister. They’d been able to get the training wheels off, but the flowery basket on the handlebars wouldn’t budge.

“Pedaling this little thing is killing my knees,” Nick said as he started another wobbly circuit around the cul-de-sac. He was hoping Tesla would offer to take turns on the ten-speed.

Instead, she just cruised past him and said, “It was either Elesha’s bike or the Big Wheel.”

“I know, I know,” Nick grumbled.

He threw another surreptitious (he hoped) glance at the Landrigans’ driveway. They had to make sure they were in just the right spot when the van left that evening. Which is why they’d been riding around and around by the Landrigans’ front gate for the past twenty minutes.

“So, how long are you guys gonna be visiting your uncle?” Silas asked. “A week or two?”

“The whole summer,” Nick said.

“The whole summer? Here?” said DeMarco. He looked like he pitied them. “Why?”

“Our parents are government scientists,” Nick said. “They got sent to Uzbekistan.”

“What’s in Oozebeckyland?” Silas asked.

“Soybeans,” said Tesla. “Really well irrigated soybeans.”

“Sounds thrilling,” said DeMarco, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Why couldn’t they take you with them?”

Neither Nick nor Tesla answered. They just looked at each other, obviously thinking the same thing.

Yeah…why not?

“Whoa,” said Silas. “Here we go.”

The white Siringo Bros. van was coming around the house.

The kids sped up their circling, yelling bogus trash talk at one another as they fake-raced around the cul-de-sac.

“Eat my dust!”

“Save your breath for pedaling—you’ll need it!”

“Real cool bike, Nick! What’s the matter? Your tricycle have a flat?”

“Hey!”

The gate started to swing open automatically as the van drew near.

They’d have to time this operation just right.

DeMarco broke away from the pack and doubled back toward the Landrigan place.

“Shortcut!” he called over his shoulder.

“Cheater!” the others yelled at him.

They all pretended not to notice that the van was driving past the gate and would be easing out into the street any second.

The big, scruffy guy—Frank—was behind the wheel. He honked his horn as DeMarco headed straight for him.

It was up to DeMarco now.

“Don’t worry. He can handle it,” Silas had said when they’d hatched the plan. “He’s doing X Games–type stuff on his bike all the time, and he’s only broken three bones.”

That hadn’t reassured Nick much, but Tesla had nodded and said, “All right, DeMarco. Try not to break number four.”

And now there DeMarco was, looking at the van in fake surprise, swerving to the left in fake panic, and then doing a very real wipeout with what sounded like a real scream.

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