41-Highway Robbery by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Mysteries & Detective Stories
ISBN: 9780671700386
Google: UScvAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0671700383
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 1990-07-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Pat, shackled to the wheel, put the rig in gear and tried to control the huge, heavy machine to keep them from flying into the gorge on their left. Despite her best efforts, the truck continued to build up speed.

Frank strained at the door handle to which his handcuff was attached, but the handle held firm. He grabbed the chain with both hands and yanked, but he only succeeded in scraping some skin off his wrist. The door handle didn't give an inch.

"How are you doing?" he yelled to Pat over the noise of the engine.

She was staring grimly straight ahead. It was obvious that she was using all her strength and concentration, fighting to control the steering wheel and to keep the truck's speed down as much as she could with the transmission.

"The trouble is the trailer!" she shouted back. "All that weight - either it's going to push us off the road, or it'll fishtail and drop and pull us down after it."

"Can you unhitch the trailer?" Joe called from the sleeping compartment.

"Not from inside," she replied. "There's a hand-operated backup system, a crank that you turn to retract the kingpin from the fifth wheel, but - "

"Where is it?" Frank asked.

"Behind the cab, just below the frame that holds the fifth wheel in place."

"Could I get to it from here?"

"From here? You mean while we're moving?" Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. "Frank, that's crazy! It'd be suicide to try something like that!"

"It'd be suicide not to do anything at all!" Tony yelled. "When this truck goes over the edge, you know that's going to be bad for our health!"

"I'm going for it," Frank called out. He opened the door. "At least this cuff ought to keep me from falling under the wheels!"

As he swung his body out, the wind hit him in the face with powerful force. Close behind him was the steep rise of the hill. Trees and brush jutted out close to his body. A tree branch whipped across his back as he pressed his stomach flat against the body of the tractor. He hung on tight, feeling the harsh rumble and bumping of the huge vehicle, and made himself take slow, deep breaths to stay calm.

With his left foot Frank groped for the first foothold on the side of the cab. He gripped the door frame and lowered himself cautiously, while stretching to get a look behind and beneath, where tractor and trailer joined.

"I see a handle sticking out down there," he shouted, trying to make himself heard over the engine and the rushing wind. "That must be it."

His right hand was anchored to the door handle by the handcuffs, but he reached his left hand back, extending himself as far as possible. He missed the crank by a couple of feet. It was obvious that he couldn't possibly reach it that way.

The truck hurtled around a sharp turn, and Frank's door flew wide open. For a moment he dangled just above the onrushing asphalt road.

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