The Lost Property Office by Hannibal James R

Author:Hannibal, James R. [Hannibal, James R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Mystery, Adventure, Childrens, Young Adult, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781481467117
Amazon: 1481467115
Goodreads: 28955172
Publisher: Simon Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2016-11-08T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

“WE HAVE TO make it move.” Gwen rocked violently side to side in her seat.

Jack joined in, synchronizing with her movements, but the car remained wedged halfway out of the tunnel, tipped upward and canted several degrees to one side. Through the bubble at the front, he could see the shimmering ripples at the surface, twenty feet above at the most. They might easily swim for it, except the tunnel was still blocking the hatch.

“Wait!” Gwen grabbed Jack’s shoulder, stopping his movement. “This is getting us nowhere.” She stared down at the water flowing to the back for several seconds, then snapped her fingers. “Right. Got it. To the front, quick as we can.” She unbuckled, motioning wildly for Jack to do the same.

At first, Jack didn’t get it, but the car tipped forward as soon as he followed the clerk to the front. The floor bounced against the lip of the tunnel and started up again, inching them forward.

“Again!” shouted Gwen, pulling him backward.

They scrambled downhill into the cold water, then up again, and again the car pitched down and bounced. It screeched forward along the bricks and wedged itself at an even higher angle. Water kept flowing in. The rear bubble was entirely full.

“It’s not enough!” shouted Jack on their way downhill.

“Yes it is. Once more!”

Down into the frigid water and back up again. This time the screeching continued long after the front end had tipped back up. The car inched forward. Then the screeching stopped and it snapped to vertical. Jack grabbed the top edge of the bench, throwing an arm around Gwen as they shot for the surface. The forward bubble—and most of the car—burst out into soft daylight.

When the car splashed down, it rolled back and forth, water sloshing all around the children as if they were mismatched socks in a giant washing machine. Finally, they settled, bounced off an unseen obstacle, and came to rest against a hard shore. Gwen pulled herself up and yanked down on a release lever, sending the hatch crashing down, and Jack followed her out onto a dock made entirely of red granite. He hunched over, fighting nausea and struggling to find his land legs. When he finally looked up, he almost lost them again.

An old sailing ship towered high above them, dwarfing their cylindrical transport. Two rows of cannon poked out from the sides, and the tallest of the three masts rose more than a hundred feet in the air. For a moment, Jack wondered if he had accidentally sparked again, back to the age of pirates and privateers, until he felt Gwen take his arm and pull him along. “The Red Dragon,” she whispered. “First flagship of the Honorable East India Company. Don’t gawk, Jack. It’s so utterly American.”

They were not on an outside dock as Jack originally supposed, thanks to the ship and the daylight. Beyond the broad pool where the tall ship rested stretched a massive hall. Statues of all makes and materials lined the walls.

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