Catherine Jinks by The Abused Werewolf Rescue Group

Author:The Abused Werewolf Rescue Group
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 2012-06-04T22:06:39+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Wait a second." My voice was hoarse and my hands were still up. "H-how did you know I was here?"

"I just told you, didn't I?" Danny growled. "Reuben Schneider called me."

"Yeah, but how did he know?" Unless, I thought, he was in on this deal. "Who would have told him?"

Danny shrugged. He didn't seem interested. "Reuben called me—I dunno—round four hours ago?" he replied. "Said some guys were back at Wolgaroo, running fights again. Said they'd probably snatched a frienda his, called Toby." Peering at Sergio, he added, "Didn't mention this guy. What's your name?"

"S-Sergio."

Danny grunted. Then he clicked his tongue at the dogs, calling them to heel. They immediately abandoned their posts, slinking back toward their master.

Sergio heaved a long, quivering sigh as he adopted a more comfortable position, with both feet planted firmly on the ground.

"You can drop your hands," Danny informed me. "I'm not going to shoot ya." The next instant, however, he unslung his rifle in a threatening kind of way—not exactly aiming it but making sure that everyone knew it was there. "Where'dja think you're going?" he barked at Sergio, who was heading for Danny's vehicle.

Sergio halted. "I thought—aren't you taking us away?" he shrilled.

"Not yet," said Danny. "Not until I deal with the bastards who brought yiz here." Then he turned back to me, still cradling his gun. "So how did yiz both get out, exactly? Gimme a blow-by-blow."

I licked my lips and lowered my hands. Though I didn't trust him, there was no way on earth I could avoid giving him some kind of explanation. Not while he was armed with a bolt-action rifle. "I squeezed through the bars," was what I finally told him, keeping one eye firmly on the dogs.

"Y'mean the bars in the gate?" he queried. "The gate to the tunnel?"

"That's right." He obviously knew his stuff. I could tell that he was familiar with the underground tanks. But I didn't find this reassuring.

On the contrary.

"And then what?" he asked.

"Then I picked the lock on Sergio's gate."

"Oh yeah?" Danny sounded surprised. "How'd you manage that?"

"With a shim," I mumbled. "That I made out of a beer can."

Though I can't be absolutely sure, I think Danny might have cracked a smile at this. But all he said was, "And then what?"

"Then we took a big steel drum, and I stood on that and Sergio stood on me. So he could climb out of the pool." As I went on to describe the ladder, and the trip wire, and the padlock, the barrel of Danny's gun slowly sagged toward the ground. He seemed to be concentrating fiercely. At last, when I'd finished, he said, "How many are there? D'you know?"

I was stumped. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, who's in the house? How many people?" When I didn't answer, Danny swung around to address Sergio. "What about you? Do you know?"

"We don't even know if anyone's there at all," Sergio rejoined sullenly. "We thought your truck might be them, coming back."

"Okay." Danny pondered for a moment.

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