Sharp Shot Page 5

  “I’d rather try out Lightning Strike,” said Rich. He pointed to a growing queue nearby. People were waiting to get into a tunnel leading into a huge mountain. Above the mountain the metal track of rollercoaster ride rose and dipped alarmingly.

  “Looks dangerous,” said Jade. “Why do people do that?”

  “It looks great. Why do we have to go on this duck thing?” Rich asked.

  “Because it’s free with the ticket,” McCain told him. “Like the main rides, you get one go each on Hook-a-Duck. And it gives me a chance to check we’re not being followed.”

  “We should find a phone,” said Rich. “Call Halford again and tell him where we are.”

  “Once we’re sure it’s safe,” said McCain. He turned away, scanning the people arriving through the turnstile gates behind them.

  “Don’t know about you,” said Jade quietly to Rich, “but I usually want to call for help when it isn’t safe.”

  “He knows what he’s doing,” said Rich. “I guess. Dex Halford seems to think he’s OK, so we should stick with him and do what he says.”

  “I suppose,” Jade agreed, but she wasn’t convinced.

  A broad-shouldered man nudged Rich on the shoulder, startling him. Jade almost laughed at her brother’s expression. Then the man handed him a fishing rod.

  “Your turn, sonny,” he said.

  McCain was still watching the people coming through the gates when they’d hooked their ducks. If your duck had a cross painted underneath, you won a prize.

  “I won a beetle,” Rich announced proudly.

  “I didn’t,” said Jade.

  “Here, look.” Rich’s beetle was only a couple of inches long and made of thin metal. It was just a painted hollow shape, but there was another strip of metal welded underneath it. Rich pushed the strip of metal with his thumb and it clicked in and then sprang out again with a distinctive ‘click-clack’ noise. He did it again.

  “OK, we get the idea,” Jade told him as he kept doing it. “Well done—you fished a plastic duck out of a paddling pool.”

  “It takes skill,” Rich told her. “You’re just jealous.”

  “Course I am. I’ve always wanted a toy beetle.” Jade smiled. “Used to want to swap my brother for one.”

  “Hey!”

  “Children,” McCain chided. “Come on, let’s get further from the gates, I’m not convinced we lost our friends back there.”

  “Neither am I,” said Rich. He pointed at the turnstiles, where two men in dark suits wearing sunglasses were pushing through a group of children on a school trip.

  “That way too,” Jade realised. There were two more suited men in sunglasses approaching along a narrow path from the direction of one of the big rides.

  “Time we were going,” said McCain.

  He pushed into the deepest part of the queue for Lightning Strike, Rich and Jade following close behind.

  “Stick together,” McCain called over his shoulder. “But if we get separated we meet back at Hook-a-Duck in one hour, right?”

  “Right,” Jade called back.

  Rich didn’t answer. And when Jade turned to look for him, she found he was nowhere in sight. “Typical,” she muttered.

  Before she could waste any more time looking, McCain grabbed her wrist and pulled her after him. “He’ll find us,” he said.

  “He’d better.”

  A familiar-looking dark-haired woman in a plain trouser suit and wearing sunglasses was standing to the side of the queue. For a moment, her shaded eyes seemed to fix on Jade.

  Rich was right behind Jade and McCain. Then a fat man pushed in front of him, dragging a chubby boy holding an ice cream. The end of the ice cream broke free and fell. Rich jumped back in time to avoid getting it down his shirt.

  When the boy and the man moved away, Jade was gone.

  He looked round desperately. She couldn’t be far away. He thought he caught a glimpse of Jade’s distinctive blonde hair. But it was immediately lost in the crowd of people pushing towards Lightning Strike ride as the queue moved forwards. Rich felt himself being pulled along with the crowd.

  He was about to step out of the line and head in the direction he thought Jade and McCain must have gone, when he saw the woman. Rich recognised her at once from the helicopter, and he quickly turned away.

  She was heading straight for him. Rich braced himself, ready to run, but the woman pushed through the queue a few metres in front of Rich and kept going. Somehow she’d missed him, distracted by something else. Rich saw her disappear into a group of school children, forcing her way through.

  The queue moved again. If Rich didn’t leave now, he’d be inside the tunnel. He couldn’t leave then without making a fuss and drawing attention to himself. He looked round once more to be sure he was safe. And found he wasn’t.

  There was a man in dark glasses standing within a few metres of him. The man was looking the other way, and Rich could see the coil of wire leading to his concealed earpiece. These people have some serious technology and resources, Rich thought. Who exactly were they? The queue edged forwards again. It was now or never.

  The man turned, and Rich ducked down, pretending to tie his shoelace. He was forced to stand up again as the people behind pushed forwards. Rich was inside the tunnel now, edging closer to Lightning Strike. Ahead of him the queue arrived at a small platform where the set of linked carriages that carried you through the ride drew up. People got off on the other side before the people at the front of the queue took their place.

  Maybe Rich could spot Jade from above, he thought. But he knew that wouldn’t be much help. Unless he could make her see him—which would draw attention to himself, he was sure—she’d be sure to have moved on by the time the ride ended. But Rich realised he could just climb across the carriage when his turn came, instead of taking the ride, and leave by the exit on the other side.

  It didn’t work out quite like that.

  Rich reached the front of the queue and prepared to shuffle quickly across the bench seat of one of the front sections and get off the other side. He glanced round before he got off—and saw the man with dark glasses in the queue behind him. The good news was that he hadn’t spotted Rich. The bad news was that from where the man was standing, if Rich stood up or climbed out now that everyone else had cleared the exit platform, the man couldn’t fail to spot him.

  He’d have to go on the ride after all. A teenage girl climbed in beside Rich and sat down closer to him than she needed. He shuffled away slightly, and earned a coy smile.

  The locking bar came down over their knees, holding them in place. Rich glanced quickly over his shoulder. The man in dark glasses had gone. He breathed a sigh of relief. The guy must have decided he’d lost Rich and pushed his way back down the tunnel and out again. By the time the ride was over, he should be long gone.

  The girl beside him offered Rich a peppermint. It was green. He was so relieved he took it.

  “Thanks.”

  “s all right. You get scared?”

  “Er, no,” said Rich.

  “I do. I might scream and grab hold of you.” She grinned again, showing off the braces on her teeth. “Just so you know.”

  Rich nodded dumbly. Maybe he should have taken his chances with the mafia hitman, or whatever he was. Instinctively, Rich turned away, looking round.

  The line of linked carriages jerked into motion, and started to move along the track. The locking bar was holding Rich firmly and safely in position.

  And three carriages behind him, Rich could see the man in the sunglasses.

  The carriages were climbing now, ratcheting up a sharp incline as the rollercoaster was hauled to the top of the first peak. The man in sunglasses was looking over the side, staring down into the crowds below— looking for Rich, Jade and McCain, probably. He had his finger to his ear, and was muttering into his lapel—in touch with others on the ground.

  Rich turned quickly away. He had to keep his head down until the end of the ride. Wi
th luck he could take his time getting out of the carriage and let the man leave first, without seeing him.

  The rollercoaster reached the top of the track. The rails seemed impossibly slender, the slope down incredibly steep. The carriage began to tip forwards. Rich felt his stomach lurch and the rush of adrenaline as the rollercoaster fell. He could almost feel the weight of the carriages behind, pushing him ever faster down the steep slope.

  Then they were rushing up the other side. The girl beside Rich was yelling and grabbing his arm. He turned to look at her. And out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the man in the sunglasses was staring straight ahead—right at him.

  Still Rich wasn’t too worried. When the previous passengers had got off, he’d seen that the locking bars released in sequence to make sure people left in an orderly manner. The front row released first, then the others in sequence. He’d be out of his seat before the hitman. And he’d be running as soon as he could. Assuming he could shake off the teenage girl now clinging to him. He glanced at her, and decided he could.

  How long was the ride? They were rising up another sharp incline. He had to be ready to go. Mustn’t get dizzy from the height or the twists. Mustn’t let the hitman know he’d been spotted. How much time would he have?

  The rollercoaster screamed down again as Rich tried to remember how long a delay there had been between the locking bars lifting. The ride twisted suddenly sideways along a banked curve. The sound of the wheels rumbling on the track was like thunder.

  Rich glanced back as the carriages slowed again, rising up for the next drop. It was a long slow incline, the carriages locking into a chain that hauled them slowly upwards, drawing out the tension as the rollercoaster rose higher and higher. The people in the park below were little more than dots.

  But Rich wasn’t looking at them. He was staring in horror at the hitman three carriages behind. He was watching the man haul himself out from under the locking bar and climb into the carriage in front. He was coming for Rich.

  5

  People yelled and shouted. The man stepped into the next carriage, his foot between the two people sitting there, as he took another huge step over the back of the next seat.

  The rollercoaster inched its way up the slope. Would the man get to Rich before it reached the top and headed down the slope again?

  A woman with a small boy grabbed at the man as he stepped past them. She was shouting at him, her face red with anger and fear as he jostled past. The man ignored them and kept going. He reached the front of the carriage. There was a gap between it and the next one, but the man just jumped. He landed on the back of the carriage in front, and hauled himself onwards.

  He was getting into a rhythm now. The metronomic clack of the chain was slowing by comparison to the man’s movements. He’d reach Rich well before the rollercoaster arrived at the top of the slope.

  Rich looked down. It must be over twenty metres to the ground. The ride was built out of linked and braced struts of steel, but they were too far apart for him to have any hope of climbing down the side.

  There was only one carriage ahead of Rich. He could see an empty seat right at the back of it. A woman had put her bag beside her to stop anyone else getting in.

  The girl clung tightly to Rich’s arm. “This is going to be soooo scary,” she wailed happily.

  “You’re telling me,” said Rich, pulling his arm free.

  The girl watched him in open-mouthed astonishment as he heaved the locking bar up an inch, and prised his legs out from underneath.

  “It was fun,” Rich told her, “but not really scary enough for me. See you.” And he climbed over into the seat in front.

  The look on the girl’s face was mirrored on those of the two young men in the seat in front.

  “Coming through!” Rich yelled. There was just room for his foot between them. He balanced on the bench seat before taking a giant stride over to the next one.

  The carriage jumped slightly as it went over a join in the rails. For a moment Rich wobbled, unbalanced. He grabbed for one of the men’s shoulders, but missed. His arms windmilled and he felt himself falling to one side.

  A hand grabbed him. It was the girl he’d been sitting next to. She caught his arm from behind and held on tight until he was steady again.

  “Thanks,” said Rich.

  Further down the rollercoaster there were people shouting and pointing. The hitman was only a few seats back now.

  “If you don’t like me,” the girl told him, “just say so.”

  “You’re great,” Rich assured her. “But I have to go. Sorry.” He added another “sorry” to the two men, and took the next step, into the front of the carriage. A mother and small boy stared at him in undisguised amazement as he stepped between them. Rich forced a smile.

  They were almost at the top of the incline now. The hitman stepped on to Rich’s old seat. He was shouting something, but Rich couldn’t hear him above the yelling of everyone else, the thunder of the wheels on the rails, the wind buffeting him as they rose ever higher.

  He had to jump to get to the front carriage. He braced himself. What if the man shot him as he leaped —would it look like an accident? Like he cared, he thought. And jumped.

  The back of the carriage rushed up to meet him. But Rich could see he wasn’t going to make it. The rollercoaster was moving away as it tipped, as it gathered speed to head down the slope. For a split-second Rich could see down the rails to the bottom. He could see just how far he was going to fall.

  Then the whole rollercoaster stopped. It teetered on the brink, just about to fall—a final planned moment of terror for the occupants as they stared down at the abyss. A final planned moment that saved Rich’s life as he scrabbled at the back of the carriage and managed to grab hold.

  He tumbled over the back and into the empty seat. There was no time to wriggle under the locking bar, so he grabbed hold of it and braced himself. His foot connected with something on the seat. The woman stared at him in horror as her bag went flying over the side. Then the whole rollercoaster was falling.

  A sudden flash of light blinded him for a second. He thought for a moment he’d been shot, but there was no blood, no pain.

  Rich was sprawled awkwardly across the seat, holding tight to the locking bar as the rollercoaster hurtled down the slope. He felt like his stomach was still somewhere at the top of the ride; he could hear the blood throbbing in his ears.

  Then the rollercoaster was levelling out, slowing down. Rich twisted until he was more comfortable, but he couldn’t afford to stay where he was. The hitman would be climbing after him any second. The woman beside him was yelling about her bag and hitting Rich. He wanted to tell her it was just a bag, and there were people trying to kill him so why was she so annoyed? But the descent had knocked the wind from him and he was still gasping to get it back.

  The carriage was almost still now. They were back at the station where they’d got on. The rollercoaster slowed as it reached the platform and somehow Rich managed to roll sideways. His feet met the wooden platform while the carriage was still moving and he almost fell as he staggered clear.

  “Hey!” the attendant yelled.

  But Rich didn’t wait to get told off. He lurched away from the rollercoaster, giddily heading for the exit. How long did he have? How soon before the hitman was after him? Would the girl he’d been sitting next to try to slow the man down or get help?

  He didn’t have time to find out. The exit tunnel loomed ahead and Rich charged towards it.

  Only when he was inside the tunnel did he realise there was someone with him, keeping pace as they ran.

  The man was grinning. He popped a green peppermint into his mouth as they ran. Then he grabbed Rich’s arm and pushed him hard against the tunnel wall.

  “I just want to talk to you, Rich,” he said in an American accent.

  “Yeah right,” said Rich.

  The hitman’s sunglasses reflected Rich’s pale face back at him.

  T
hey couldn’t go back, Jade knew that. Rich would have to fend for himself. For now the important thing was to get away from the people in dark suits and even darker glasses who were after them. Jade would worry about finding Rich again later, once they were safe.

  She stuck close to Ferdy McCain as he pushed through the crowds round the rides. But whatever way she looked, Jade could see one of the men searching for them. She watched in horror as a broad shouldered man in a dark suit suddenly lunged into the crowd just yards away. He hauled out a girl with shoulder-length blonde hair cut a bit like Jade’s.

  The similarity was superficial, and the man let her go at once. He muttered an apology and moved on, but it scared Jade. “We have to get out of sight, out of the open,” she told McCain.

  They were in the middle of a group moving slowly towards an old house. The queue looped up a narrow, cobbled driveway to a crooked front door. The door opened and the queue moved forwards. They passed a sign that said: Professor Horror’s House of Terror.

  “As good a place to hide as any,” said McCain. The queue stopped and the door closed again.

  “If we ever get there,” said Jade.

  They were near the front now. “We should get inside with the next group,” McCain pointed out.

  Jade looked round, but they seemed to have got away from their pursuers for the moment. She could see the woman from the helicopter pushing through the back of the queue and hurrying away.

  After what seemed an age, the door opened again and an overly cheerful young man ushered in the next group of people.

  “Don’t get scared in there now,” he told Jade as she went in.

  Jade glared at him. “Takes more than a visit to Scooby-Doo’s house to scare me.”

  The young man grinned. “Really?”

  But Jade wasn’t listening. The woman with long dark hair was back. She was standing at the far end of the queue, and she was looking up at Jade. Her eyes were hidden behind her shades, but Jade was sure the woman had seen her. Jade turned and hurried through the door.