The Mystery of the Invisible Knight Page 4
“If I die, I gotta look good for the news photo.”
“What about food?” Sean demanded as he grew more desperate. “Didn’t you bring any—ah, here we go.” He reached down and pulled out a giant Tupperware bowl. He opened the lid, then cried, “Broccoli! You brought broccoli? You know I hate broccoli.”
He reached for the next container. “Raw cauliflower!” And the next. “Cooked carrots!” He continued opening the others, one after another, faster and faster. “Squash! Asparagus! Turnips! Are you crazy? Where’s the real food?”
“Real food?” she asked, blinking innocently.
“You know, the four basic food groups . . . chips, candy, cookies, and cake!?” There was no missing the desperation in his voice. “Come on, sis, where are they?” He pulled out a pitcher. “What’s this in here?”
“Carrot juice.”
“Carrot juice?” His voice squeaked somewhere around a high C. “Are you serious? Everything’s vegetables. All you brought is vegetables? You know I hate vegetables!”
Melissa held his look a moment and then quietly answered, “I know, but I hear they’re good for curing plantar warts.”
Now it was Sean’s mouth that dropped open.
Now it was Melissa who was smiling.
And it was just about then that Sean realized she was as good at being a little sister as he was at being a big brother.
Suddenly there was a faint noise.
“Shhh . . .” Melissa whispered.
Sean nodded, hearing it, too. It was around the side of the factory—a scrapping, tapping sound. “It’s coming from the fire escape,” he whispered. “Somebody’s trying to break in by climbing the escape. C’mon.”
Before Melissa could protest, Sean left their hiding place, raced to the building, and started moving along the front wall. Not thrilled with being left by herself, she followed.
The mill was built into a hill, with the sides of the building sloping down three stories toward the back. Sean pressed flat against the front wall and continued
inching his way toward the corner to sneak a peek.
Melissa followed right behind. “Do you think it could be the—’’
“Shhh . . .” He motioned for her to keep quiet.
They arrived at the corner. Then ever so carefully, Sean eased his head around it to take a look. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he scooted around the corner and motioned for Melissa to follow.
The noise up on the fire escape grew louder.
“Sean?” she asked nervously.
“Shhh!”
“I just want to make sure you see those—”
“Will you be quiet?” he whispered. “Real professionals know when to talk and when to keep quiet.”
“I just don’t want you falling over those—”
He turned and glared at her. “And right now a real professional would . . . AHHHH!”
CLANG, BANG, RATTLE, RATTLE
The AHHHH! was Sean shouting as he fell.
The clang, bang, rattle, rattle were the garbage cans that he’d just fallen into. The poor guy flipped and flopped this way and that, trying to get to his feet. He finally spotted Melissa and reached out to her for help.
A good idea, except for the part where he pulled too
hard and threw her off balance, dragging her directly on top of him and on even more of those lovely garbage cans.
CLANG, BANG, RATTLE, RATTLE
CLANG, BANG, RATTLE, RATTLE.
Now they were making twice the noise, but with one extra little surprise. The force of Melissa’s fall was just strong enough to send all of them—cans, brother, and sister—rolling and bouncing down the steep hill.
“WHOA . . .”
Clang, bang, rattle.
“WHAA . . .”
Rattle, bang, clang.
“EEEE . . .”
Roll, rattle, roll, rattle, roll.
Everything was a blur of arms, legs, and cans. Garbage flew in all directions. And by the time they’d reached the bottom of the hill, it was hard to tell where the kid left off and the slimy, stinky, dripping garbage began.
But the fun and games weren’t over yet. Not quite.
It seems there was a little drop-off at the bottom of the hill. A little drop-off that ended directly above one of those not-so-little trash dumpsters on wheels.
The good news was their style and form were incredible. In fact, as they dove off the hill and tumbled head over heels through the air, Sean was even thinking of trying out for the US Olympic Diving Team.
But Melissa’s thoughts ran a little differently.
“WE’RE GONNA DIE!”
Of course they didn’t. That would have been too easy. Instead, they landed inside the giant dumpster with a tremendous
CRASH!
followed by the gentle
pitter, patter, splatter
of garbage raining down upon them.
And still the catastrophe continued . . .
The force of impact caused the whole dumpster to start rolling down the rest of the hill.
“Wh-wh-wh-wh-what’s hap-p-p-pen-ing-ing-ing?” Melissa cried from inside the bouncing dumpster.
With the slimy bottom and all that bouncing, it took most of Sean’s effort just to struggle to his feet. But at last he was able to take a peek over the top.
He wished he hadn’t.
“Wh-wh-wh-where are-re-re-re we-e-e-e going-ing-ing?” Melissa cried.
“Nowh-wh-wh-where!” he shouted.
“Wh-wh-wh-at?”
“There’s a tre-e-e, dead-d-d-d ahead-d-d-d!”
“Wh-wh-wh-at?”
“I said there’s a tree-e-e-e, dead-d-d-d—”
BANG!
The dumpster finally come to a stop.
Unfortunately, so had Sean’s consciousness.
The guy was out cold.
SATURDAY, 20:35 PST
When Sean came to, he saw Melissa staring down at him. Well, at least he thought it was Melissa. It was kinda hard to tell with all the garbage hanging from her. “Sean . . . Sean, can you hear me? Sean?”
“Yeah,” he groaned. “I hear you fine.” He struggled to sit up. By the looks of things, they’d been thrown out of the dumpster when they’d hit the tree. And by his throbbing head, he knew exactly what he’d landed on. He winced and reached up to touch his aching temples. Unfortunately, he touched a hanging banana peel instead. Angrily, he yanked it off and flung it aside.
He looked over at the mill. The fire escape hovered above them in the evening shadows. “Did you see it?” he asked Melissa. “Did it get away?”
“Uh, not exactly.”
“Then where is it?” Sean asked as he peered into the darkness. “I don’t see it.”
“Oh, it’s still there.”
“Where?”
“On the fire escape.”
His eyes shot up and down the stairs. “There’s no one there.”
“Look up a little higher, at the very top.”
Sean strained to see through the darkness. “I don’t see—” And then he saw it. He blinked, hoping it wasn’t true, that maybe he was seeing things because of his fall. But of course he wasn’t.
“A raccoon?” he groaned.
“Looks like it,” Melissa said.
“We went through all of this over a raccoon?”
“Right again.”
Sean groaned and lay back down. Unfortunately, it was directly into a pile of somebody’s half-eaten salad, complete with lettuce, cucumbers, radishes, shredded carrots, and some very smashed tomatoes. He did not move, but continued lying there, staring up in the air. And then ever so quietly, he muttered, “I really, really hate vegetables . . .”
6
The meeting
SATURDAY, 21:05 PST
It had been a half hour since their little ride in the trash bin. Other than Sean’s bruised head (not to mention his bruised ego), everything was pretty much back to normal . . . except for the distinct odor of garbage t
hat seemed to follow them wherever they went.
By now it was dark, and as they rode through town, Melissa was anxious to get home. She was glad for the overhead streetlights, but she figured there were still a few too many dark shadows lurking around just a few too many dark corners.
“You sure this is the quickest way home?” she asked.
“Sure, I’m sure,” Sean said. “You’re still not chicken, are you?”
She hated it when he read her mind like that. “No, of course not,” she lied. But she could tell by the smirk on his face that he knew better.
“Wait a minute.” He suddenly slowed his bike. “What’s that?”
“Come on, Sean, I’m not falling for that old one.”
“No, I’m serious.”
Melissa rolled her eyes. She knew her brother loved her and if the chips were down he would do anything for her. But she also knew he would do anything for a good joke. And this was one joke she was definitely not about to fall-
Clank.
Then again, maybe she would.
Clank. Clank.
They brought their bikes to a screeching stop. “What is it?” she whispered. “Sounds like metal.”
Clank.
He motioned to the nearby alley. “It’s coming from in there.”
Melissa sighed. Since their adventure at the steel mill, she’d been looking forward to getting home and taking a nice, hot shower . . . with plenty of soap. But it looked like her brother had other ideas. “I suppose as ‘professionals,’ you think we’re supposed to go in there and check that noise out?” she asked.
He nodded. “We’re a detective agency, Misty. This is what detective agencies do.”
Clank! Clank! Clank!
“C’mon.”
He hopped off his bicycle and walked it toward the front of Bowman’s Coin Shop. Reluctantly, Melissa followed. They leaned their bikes against the building and silently crossed around the side to the alley.
It was dark. A single streetlamp lit the entire area. It cast all sorts of strange and creepy shadows. Luckily, none of those creepy shadows were moving.
“Maybe . . . maybe it was just the wind,” Melissa whispered.
Clank.
They froze.
“Then again, maybe not.”
Clank. Clank.
“That’s definitely metal,” Sean whispered. “Maybe it could be another raccoon or something.”
Clank! Clank! Clank!
“Only if it’s wearing a suit of armor,” Sean answered.
Suddenly the noise stopped. Now there was nothing but silence.
“What happened?” Melissa whispered. “Where did it go?”
“I can’t tell. I can’t see a thing from here. I’m going to cross the alley and duck behind that old pickup.”
“Are you crazy?” Melissa whispered. “If you step into the open, it’ll see you for sure.”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
“Going home?” Melissa asked hopefully.
“C’mon. Once we get across, we’ll be able to see everything.”
“What do you mean, ‘we’?”
“You want to stay here by yourself?”
It was an old ploy, but it worked every time. “All right,” she muttered, “but if we die, you’re going to live to regret it.”
“C’mon.”
Sean took off. Melissa followed. A second later they were on the other side of the alley behind the pickup. Melissa’s heart pounded like a jackhammer. Slowly, ever so slowly, they lifted their heads above the hood of the truck to take a peek.
And there, coming out of the back of the coin shop, was a walking suit of armor. The reflection from the streetlight gave it an unearthly glow.
“It’s the knight,” Melissa gasped.
As if hearing her, the knight stopped and slowly turned in their direction.
“Don’t move,” Sean whispered. “Don’t move a muscle.”
Clank.
It started toward them.
Clank. Clank.
Melissa’s heart went into double time. “No way can it see us,” Sean whispered. “There’re too many shadows, and we’re too well hidden.”
Clank! Clank! Clank!
“Maybe you should tell it that,” Melissa said as the knight continued its approach.
“Shhh . . .” he whispered. “It can’t possibly see us. It’s got to pass by. Just lay low.”
And still the thing came toward them.
Clank. Clank.
Instinctively, the two dropped lower behind the truck.
By now Melissa’s heart was pounding so hard she thought it would explode inside her chest. Any second it would be there. Any second it would round the truck and loom above them and—
Clank! Clank! Clank!
Wait a minute! Was it her imagination, or was the clanking starting to fade? Yes, it was moving past them, moving past the truck and heading out the alley.
Melissa took a long, deep breath and let it out. Then, to her horror, she saw Sean rising to his feet to get a better look.
“What are you doing?” she whispered. “Get back down.”
He shook his head and motioned for her to join him. At first she refused, but as the sound continued to fade, she slowly rose.
That’s when the knight came to a stop.
Melissa went ice cold.
Slowly, its head swiveled to face them. Neither Melissa nor Sean moved. It was too late. They’d been spotted. They’d been spotted, and there was nothing they could do about it.
But instead of coming after them, it remained standing there at the opening of the alley. Its shiny metal glowed and shimmered under the streetlamp.
Melissa wanted to run, to make a break for it, but she didn’t trust herself. It’s hard running on legs of Jell-O. Besides, there was one other minor problem.
The alley behind Bowman’s Coin Shop was a dead end. There was only one way out. . . and the knight stood directly in the middle of that way.
Melissa grew colder. She found it more difficult to breathe. What would happen next? What would it do?
Unfortunately, she didn’t have to wait long.
Ever so slowly the knight raised its great steel arm until it pointed directly at them.
“You!” it shouted.
If Melissa thought she was shaking before, she was now registering a 9.5 on the Richter Scale.
With its other hand, the knight reached for the helmet’s visor.
Now it would happen. Now they would finally see him. They would look directly into its face, into those long-dead eyes, and—
The visor gave an ominous creak as the knight shoved it up to reveal. . .
Nothing.
There were no eyes, there was no face. There wasn’t even a head. Nothing but a black, terrifying void.
Melissa and Sean gasped.
Once again the thundering voice boomed from the armor. “You of the Hunter clan!”
Neither Melissa or Sean Hunter particularly felt like answering. Besides, it’s hard answering when your heart is in your throat.
The voice continued. “Follow me not, for your time comes soon enough!”
Then without another word, the knight closed its face visor, turned, and lumbered out of the alley and out of sight.
7
more clues
SUNDAY, 11:12 PST
Immediately after church let out, Melissa was running down the street toward the animal hospital. Her encounter with Sir Richard Falcrest the night before hadn’t done much to ease her fears about Slobs.
Nor had the headline in this morning’s paper:
Gold Coins Missing in Robbery
Things were coming true exactly as the knight had threatened. First the rubies to decorate the sword, then the scabbard, and now the gold coins, which it was obviously going to melt down to make the sword’s handle.
And if all these were coming true, then what about its other threat? The one involving the curse on the townspeople?
&
nbsp; And finally, to top it all off, there was the minor fact that the knight actually knew them by name:
“You of the Hunter clan! Follow me not,
for your time comes soon enough!”
Yes, sir, if ever there was a time to be majorly worried, Melissa figured it was now. She raced up the steps to the animal hospital, threw open the doors, and ran into the lobby.
The receptionist looked up, somewhat startled. “May I help you?”
“Yes,” Melissa answered, trying to catch her breath. “Our dog . . . Slobbers . . . I just came to . . . that is, I wonder if I could—”
“Hello, Misty.” Dr. Troast had just appeared around the corner.
“Hello, Doctor.” She took in another gulp of air. “I know you said you would call if there was any change in Slobs, but . . . I mean a lot of stuff’s been happening and—”
“You wanted to see how she is doing?” he asked.
Melissa nodded.
“Well, right now she is sleeping soundly. It’s important she get her rest. When she wakes, I’ll examine her again and give you a call.”
Melissa’s heart sank. She tried again. “I appreciate that, but can I . . . I mean would it be possible for me to take just a little peek at her?”
Dr. Troast looked at her. She held his gaze, hoping he could see her urgency. Finally, he broke into a little smile. “All right. . . but just for a moment. And you must be careful not to wake her.”
Melissa nodded eagerly.
He motioned for her to follow. She rounded the counter to join him, and they headed down the hallway, entering a large room to the left. It was full of all sorts of cats and dogs in cages. Melissa slowed to a stop as she searched for Slobs. Her eyes scanned row after row, but the dog was nowhere to be found. A quiet panic rose up inside as she searched again. Maybe Slobs had been too injured. Maybe the doctor didn’t have the heart to tell her. Maybe Slobs was already—