Embassy of the Dead by Will Mabbitt

Author:Will Mabbitt [Mabbitt, Will; Knight, Taryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781536216219
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2020-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

It was still dark outside, but the rain had stopped. Jake could see the parked black car that had passed them at the gates. Rayburn dropped Jake onto the ground and pressed a button on his keys. The car lights flickered and the locks popped open.

Jake tensed. He looked around for somewhere to run. Every instinct in his body, every feeling, every bone was screaming out for him to run. Too late. He felt Rayburn’s meaty hand gripping his hood.

“That would be a mistake. We’re going to take good care of you, don’t worry. As long as you show the boss where you’ve hidden his package . . . Don’t worry, he isn’t far away.” The big man scowled. “Likes me to do his dirty work.” He wrapped Jake’s hood around his fist and banged him roughly against the car.

Jake sagged to his knees on the gravel, and the man picked him up and effortlessly threw him onto the back seat. Jake immediately tried the opposite door, but it was locked. He was trapped.

Seconds later, the man was in the driver’s seat. The engine softly purred to life.

Jake watched from the window as the car crunched its way slowly along the long gravel drive. Somewhere out there was Stiffkey. Waiting for him. Counting on him.

He unzipped his backpack. The box was in there. Still safe. And Cora’s trophy, too. He flipped open the lid, waiting for her to appear.

Nothing.

He peered inside the trophy. It was empty.

“Looking for me, Precious?” came a voice from the front seat. Jake glanced up to see Cora smiling at him.

“How did you get there?” he blurted out.

“What’s that?” barked Rayburn. “You just keep your mouth shut.”

Rayburn couldn’t see Cora! Maybe he wasn’t sensitive to the presence of ghosts.

Cora held up her hand and her hockey stick materialized in it. “Want me to bash him?” She waved the stick threateningly.

Jake shook his head and mouthed the words child lock.

Cora looked puzzled. “What?”

He pointed to the dashboard. Unlock the doors, he mimed.

“This one?” asked Cora, flicking the hazard lights on. Rayburn grunted and turned them off.

Cora tried another button. The radio came on. Then she tried the windshield wipers, then the blinkers. Each time, Rayburn turned them back off. He was getting increasingly annoyed.

Cora laughed and pressed them all again. And new ones, tons of buttons all at once.

A woman’s voice sounded from the GPS box on the windshield . . .

“Resetting language to German. Guten Tag.”

“What the blazes?”

Rayburn leaned over and pulled the GPS from its suction cups. He shook it; then the car hit a speed bump and swerved to the left.

He dropped the GPS and braked suddenly as the car mounted the grass, but not quickly enough to avoid shunting into a statue of a former headmistress, causing Jake to slide off the seat onto the floor.

The car door opened. Cora was standing there, saluting. “It’s quicker just opening it from the outside.”

And just like that, Jake was free and sprinting across the wet

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