Running on Fumes by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin
Published: 2003-02-23T16:00:00+00:00

AN UNPLANNED MISSION

“Good morning, morning glory!” Frank said into my ear.

“Good morning, Aunt Trudy,” I said without opening my eyes. “Go ahead. Dump some water over my head. It would feel outstanding.”

Frank laughed. “It would, wouldn’t it? But I’m drinking all I have. I guess it’s not poisoned after all—since here we both are. Alive.”

I sat up. “Maybe we both had a little heatstroke yesterday. Made us think twisted thoughts.”

“Maybe,” Frank agreed. “Let’s go look around. I want to check things out without an escort.”

I pulled on my jeans. The feel of the heavy material was foul. It was only about ten in the morning, but the desert was already like a barbecue pit.

That robe Stench had been wearing was probably the best thing you could wear in the heat. Not that I’d walk around in a nightgown-looking thing.

Frank led the way out of our tent. “It’s like Colonial Williamsburg,” I said as we walked down one of the rows of tents.

Colonial Williamsburg is this place in Virginia where we went on a vacation once. They call it a living museum, because everyone in the town acts like they’re living in colonial times. No modern stuff at all.

The compound was a little like that. Not colonial, and people weren’t dressed funny or anything. But there was nothing high-tech.

Which made the place pretty quiet, for starters. No TVs on. No CDs playing.

We passed a man who was using a cactus spine needle to mend a rip in a shirt, and a teenage girl who was using a frond from a palm tree to sweep the area in front of her tent.

“Isn’t it kind of a waste of time to sweep dirt?” I asked her. I didn’t really care about the answer. I just wanted to talk to her. She had these awesome long blond braids. And green eyes. I’m a sucker for green eyes.

“There are a lot of creepy crawlies around,” the girl answered. Her eyes drifted from me to Frank and stayed there. “I love them and all. And I know we share the world as equals. I just don’t want them sharing my tent!”

“I’m not a creepy crawly,” I began. “Does that mean I’m welcome to—”

“Hey, guys!”

The shout interrupted me. I guess it didn’t matter. It’s not like I was really expecting an invitation to share the girl’s tent.

“How’s it going?”

I turned toward the voice and spotted Dave a few tents down. He was using a hand-cranked clothes wringer to squeeze the water out of a pair of pants. The excess water fell into a bucket under the wringer.

“Hey, Dave!” Frank called. He started toward the guy.

“See you later,” I told the girl with the braids. She waved at me. “Give me a call if you need help with the sweeping. We’re neighbors now.” I pointed to our tent.

“Both of you are staying there?” the girl asked.

Translation: I have no interest in you—but your brother is a different story.

“Yeah,” I said. Then I headed after Frank. There was no point spending more time talking to Braids.

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