Bound for Danger by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin

8

RUN THE GAUNTLET

JOE

THERE WAS NOWHERE TO PARK in front of the Meet Locker, a local diner and hangout, so I ended up parking down Farragut Alley, this tiny little dead-end street off to the right.

It was nine thirty by the time we parked the car, and the Meet Locker closes at ten. “We’d better hurry,” I told Frank. “We want to have time to hear everything he has to say.”

We jumped out of the car and were heading back out of the alley toward Main Street when suddenly Gabe was standing in front of us.

“Hey!” he said, moving toward us. “Listen, bad news, guys. Brett got cold feet. He doesn’t want to hang out in the Meet Locker, in case anyone from the team sees us.”

I stared at him. “Ooookay,” I said. “So, now what?”

Gabe gestured behind us. “His cousin has an apartment over here,” he said. “Just follow me.”

There are no streetlights on Farragut Alley, so keeping Gabe in our sights was a little difficult. We followed him down toward the dead end, and then suddenly a door opened to our right, in one of the nondescript retail buildings. I wasn’t aware of apartments being inside, but maybe above the stores . . .

“JOE!” Frank suddenly yelled behind me, but it was too late. A dark shape advanced on us from inside the doorway, and a bag was thrown over my head again. I could hear them doing the same to Frank, too. I felt arms reach out and roughly pull me inside.

“I’m sorry,” I heard Gabe say behind me, just before it sounded like he was grabbed too.

It felt like there were people on either side of me again, and just like before, they forced me down a short flight of stairs. This time I was led over to a chair and told to sit, and then I felt them tying me to the chair at my waist and my ankles. They tied my wrists together too. When the bag was pulled off my head, I was staring into the same scenario as before: a dark room, black light. This time, though, I was sitting next to not just Frank, but a whole row of guys. When I looked closer, I could just barely make out Pete Gruner, Ty Coolidge, and Jayden Speck.

Just like before, a line of masked, robed figures stood before us. But this time there seemed to be even more of them. The figure in the center moved forward and began to speak.

“Congratulations.” Like the last time, he was using a voice modulator to disguise his voice. The sound was low and creepy—like something you’d hear at a haunted house. “The five of you are the lowest performers on the basketball team. None of you are cut out for basketball. Until you either prove your worth or quit, the harassment will not stop.”

I swallowed and glanced over at Frank. What form will that harassment take tonight? I remembered that masked guy advancing on me with the burning-hot pin and felt a shiver run down my spine.

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