This choice: Continue reading "The Secret of Camp Double Bluff" • Go Back...Chapter #43The Secret of Camp Double Bluff (2) by: Seuzz   Chapter 2
"I DON'T CARE how many there are," Frank said. "We'll keep you safe."
"You can trust us," Joe said. The girl was looking very frightened. "We've been in situations like this before."
Frank raised his finger to his lips. Joe fell silent. They didn't want to give away their position.
Frank looked around. He knew Joe wasn't going to like his idea, but he felt that he didn't have a choice. He picked a large rock up from the ground and hurled it off into some bushes. It cracked hard off a tree. Then he scrambled over to join Joe and the girl.
"I'm going to lure them away," he told Joe in a low voice. "We'll stand a better chance if we separate."
Joe's eyes widened. "You'll get your head blown off!" he hissed.
"No I won't," Frank said with a smile. "I've got it on too tight. You wait until I'm away, and then you try to get back to the truck. There's tall grass back by the lake. Stick to it. I'll meet you later."
Joe tensed. He wanted badly to argue, but he knew it was no use. Frank could be stubborn, and it would be worse to make noise than to let Frank go off.
He and Frank quietly slipped their packs off. Then Frank hefted another rock into the brush, and scampered away.
Joe swallowed hard as he watched him go, then pulled the girl close and motioned her to keep silent. There was a great risk that their pursuers, in trying to track Frank, would stumble through this clearing.
Sure enough, only a minute later, Joe heard a noise from behind a nearby bush, and he cautiously raised his head. He held his breath, for not ten feet away was one of their pursuers.
Joe studied his features carefully, for when he had to make a report. The man had thick brown hair, rather long along the sides, that fell down to the middle of his neck. He stood in profile, peering around a tree. He was squinting, so Joe couldn't make out the color of his eyes. His nose was large and hawk-like, and his thin lips were pulled down in a frown. Joe thought he looked like a cruel bird of prey.
He didn't have long to study the man, for he ducked and disappeared. Apparently, Frank's ruse was working.
Then Joe was distracted by another rustling, and he looked behind. He had to stifle a shout, for the girl had risen and was sprinting quickly for the gap in the trees. Joe felt his heart go into his mouth. The girl was being very stupid, he knew.
But he couldn't run after her, not with their pursuers so close. In fact, if the man he had just seen heard her--
Joe silently moved up the slope a few feet, until he was directly behind the bush where he had just seen that one hunter. A few moments later he heard a scrambling sound, and he looked up to see the man step from the bush. Joe was crouched only a few feet away, and he saw little of the man except for his blue jeans and a heavy jacket. He had a rifle clutched in his hands.
Joe waited until he had taken another step, and then silently lunged forward and clasped him around his feet, pulling them back while he rammed his head into the man's lower back. With only a quiet gasp, the man tumbled to the floor of the forest. As he put out his hands to break his fall, his rifle fell from his hands and clattered away. The dirt crunched under his body.
Quick as a flash, Joe was on top of him and quickly put him in a headlock. The man muttered and swore, but Joe tightened his grip. He fell silent.
Joe smiled grimly to himself. He could guess what was going through the man's mind: Who was on top of him? What did he want? Was he armed? Was there more than one person holding him down?
Joe thought he only had a few seconds before his captive would risk a shout to draw his own friends. He looked around and saw the rifle where it had fallen.
Joe hated the idea of using firearms, even just as a threat. But it might be the only way to hold the pursuers at bay long enough for Frank and the girl to get away.
He tensed himself, and then rapidly pulled his hands off the man while simultaneously leaping over and off him. He grabbed up the rifle as he tumbled over it, and came back out and around in a roll and a crouch. As he rose into a half-sitting position, he saw that his adversary had raised himself to his knees. He and the man stared at each other.
Now Joe had a good look at his face, and knew he would be able to remember it and describe it accurately. He had a broad forehead and clean brow. His eyes were large and well-spaced and almost almond shaped; they were also bright green. He had pronounced cheekbones and cheeks that sank to a firm jaw and a slightly pointed chin. His mouth was small but the lips were full.
From the side, Joe had thought, he looked like an eagle or a hawk. Faced full-on, Joe was struck by how handsome he was. He appeared to be only in his late twenties or early thirties, and his features came together in a way that seemed like they would photograph well. In fact, as Joe studied him, he had the odd feeling that he had seen the man's face before in an advertisement.
But however handsome he looked, he didn't look happy. His eyes burned as he glared at Joe. He raised his hands to his shoulders.
Joe thought quickly. The most important thing was rescuing the girl. He couldn't take the man prisoner. It would be enough to hold him at bay until the girl got far away, and until Frank could get away and double back. After they escaped, they could go to the authorities. The girl would have enough information that the police could swoop in on this mysterious camp.
Another rifle shot rang out, and Joe flinched a little. A small smile crept onto the man's face. Joe realized he had to do something to steer the pursuers off Frank's trail.
The man's smile faded as Joe rose to his feet and raised the rifle. Joe took careful aim, and the man's mouth fell open. Joe pulled the trigger.
The crack by his ear was deafening, and bark exploded off a tree above the man's head. He hurled himself to the ground, and as he fell Joe turned and ran to follow the girl. The ground on one side of the stream continued to rise into a ridge, and Joe hugged the side of it until he came to the edge of the small lake, where the ridge rose to a small, sheer cliff. He ducked under the cliff and peered behind him. As he did, he heard the man shouting hoarsely.
Joe looked over his shoulder. About fifty yards away, in the tall grass by the lake, he saw the girl's head bobbing. He waved at her to get down, and she ducked out of sight. Joe took another quick look up the stream, and saw nothing. He decided it was his chance to get away, so he dropped the rifle and quickly ran down to join the girl.
"Are you alright," he asked her. She was pale, but she nodded. "You shouldn't have run off, but it looks like it will be okay. Let's get back to our truck." As he took her hand and led her at a hard run, he hoped fervently that Frank would be okay.
Luckily, he didn't have to wait long to find out. As they came around to the other side of the lake Joe heard a shout, and turned back to see Frank running up to join them. The boys' mutual congratulations were short-lived. "Let's get back to the cabins," Frank said. "We'll be safer there."
They made it back to their truck, and Frank drove them quickly down the dirt road for a few miles until they came to the camp grounds. It was a line of ten cabins, very rude and rough. There were other campers in the area, and Frank knew that they would be safe with other people around.
As he helped the girl from the truck he looked her over carefully. She didn't seem to be badly hurt except for the scratches on her legs, and he judged she was more scared than anything else. He led her to the door to the boys' cabin. "You should go in there and get cleaned up," he directed her. "We'll be in in a few minutes, and then we'll take you to the ranger station so you can tell the authorities your story."
The girl bit her lip and nodded, and then with seeming impulsiveness threw her arms around Frank and hugged him. He turned very pink, and Joe grinned at his discomfort.
"My hero," Joe said in a squeaky voice when she was inside. Frank punched his brother in the shoulder, even though he knew he was just teasing. "Seriously, that was a really gutsy thing you did."
"We're not done yet," Frank said grimly. "We're going to have to question her. Given her age, and the fact that we were on hand, this might be a case for--"
"ATAC?" a voice cut in. The boys looked over in surprise at the man who had stepped from around the corner of the cabins. He was in a business suit, and his face was unsmiling. Frank's eyes narrowed until he took out an ID and handed it to them. "Robert Wallis. I'm glad I found you boys without having to hike in." He looked up the road they had just driven down, and grimaced. "I hate the outdoors."
"What can we do for you, Mr. Wallis," Frank asked. He indicated the ID. "And for ATAC?"
"You can help us with a case," he replied. "I've been sent to give you a new one."  | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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