This Side of Evil (10 page)

“Now that we’re in here, where do we start?” Ned wondered out loud. His voice was almost lost in the enormous silence. “Maybe we ought to yell. If George hears us—”

“George will be bound and gagged,” Nancy pointed out. “Let’s split up. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

“Not on your life,” Ned objected. “I don’t want to have to search for
both
of you in here. This place is so big that we should have a compass and a map just to find our way around.” He frowned and stuck his hands in the pockets of his pants. “Besides, how do we even know she’s here.”

“Somehow I’m sure of it,” Nancy replied. “You were right this afternoon when you said you thought George was being held in the wharf area.” She pulled out her flashlight. “But there’s something I don’t understand. I mean, why would the kidnapper let us walk in and just pick her up? Do you suppose—”

“Look,” Ned interrupted, “it’s nearly seven-thirty. Let’s find George first,
then
we can worry about the kidnapper.”

“Right,” Nancy said, flicking on her flashlight. “I wonder where the police are, though.” She shined it at the huge, trucklike containers that were parked along the wall. “Most of these containers are sealed. They may have been here waiting for a ship for months. If we assume that George is still alive and the kidnapper wants to keep her that way—at least for the moment—it stands to reason that she’s probably not sealed in one of these. Let’s start checking all the loose crates.”

With Ned behind her, Nancy started down the long center aisle. It was like walking down a narrow canyon between two mountains.

“My guess is that the crate we’re looking for won’t be nailed shut,” Nancy went on. “The kidnapper would need to get at her in a hurry.”

Nancy’s small flashlight barely lit up the first group of wooden crates, but it appeared that they were all nailed solidly shut. Between the cracks of the crates Nancy could see the glint of polished steel. The crates must be full of heavy equipment. There were black letters stenciled on the side.

“What does it say?” Ned asked.

“It’s French for This Side Up,’ ” Nancy replied, stepping backward. Suddenly the silence was broken by a piercing squeal. Nancy saw a huge black shape dart along the top of one of the crates and disappear behind it.

Instinctively, she pressed against Ned. “What was that?” she asked breathlessly.

“It’s just a rat,” Ned said reassuringly.

“
Just
a rat?” Nancy hissed. “Did you see the
size
of that thing? It was as big as a cat!”

“Come on,” Ned said. “It doesn’t look like there’s anything back there.”

“Wait!” Nancy said, grabbing the sleeve of his sweater. “What’s that rat doing here?”

Ned frowned. “This place must be full of them,” he replied. “Warehouses always are.”

“Maybe, but most of this stuff is heavy machinery, Ned. Rats can’t eat cold steel.”

“Maybe not, but if George is here, she’s got to have food,” Ned exclaimed. “The smell of the food could have attracted the rats.”

Nancy flicked her light over the ten-foot-high stack of crates. “Look!” she exclaimed. “Look at that!”

Behind the stack, along the wall, was a large black chemical drum marked Toxic Waste.

“What do you suppose
that
stuff is doing here?” Ned asked. “It doesn’t fit in with the rest of this cargo.”

“Let’s take a look at it,” Nancy said. Together, they climbed over a half dozen crates to get to the mysterious black drum.

“Hey, this is really weird,” Ned said, examining the drum. “It’s got holes in the top. Who’d punch holes in a barrel of chemicals?”

“Air holes!” Nancy cried.

She leaned down, listening. A dull moan sounded from inside the drum.

“George! It’s George!” Nancy exclaimed. “How do we get her out?”

“I think we can pry the lid off,” Ned said. “It’s pressed on like the top of an orange juice can.”

“Look, there’s a crowbar,” Nancy said, reaching for a heavy tool that was leaning against a crate. “I’ll bet that’s what the kidnapper’s been using to open the drum.”

Nancy handed the crowbar to Ned, who began to pry the lid loose. Finally it popped off and crashed to the cement floor with a loud clang that echoed eerily down the length of the warehouse.

Nancy shined her flashlight down into the drum. George was there, hands bound tightly behind her, a dirty gag in her mouth. At her feet were the remains of a half-eaten sandwich. She was still wearing the shorts and running shirt she’d been wearing when she was kidnapped.

“Quick,” Nancy said. “Let’s get her out of here! The guards probably heard the noise.”

Ned pulled George out. Her eyes were half-closed as she slumped against him.

Nancy pulled out the gag. “George!” she whispered urgently. “George, are you all right?”

Groggily George opened her eyes and managed a nod. She closed her eyes again, and it looked as if she’d fainted.

“My guess is that she’s doped up,” Ned said, untying her hands. “She can’t even stand.”

“She’s shivering.” Nancy pulled off her sweater and pushed George’s arms into it. “Come on. We’ve got to get her out of here!”

Suddenly along the wall overhead a little to their right, a light flickered on in an office window. Then another light came on, this time on the catwalk that crossed the center of the building about twenty feet up. A door opened, and somebody came out onto the catwalk.

“Ss-sh-sh,” Nancy said, crouching into the shadows. “It must be a guard.” Beside her, Ned made sure George was hunched down, too. “I wonder if Ms. Amberton thought to call them and tell them we’re here.”

The silence was eerie. Then Nancy heard two loud, distinct
chinks
, like pieces of metal coming together.

Ned put his hand on her arm. “That sounded like somebody loading a gun,” he whispered.

Cautiously Nancy raised her head over the drum to see what was happening. The silence was broken by a loud
Ka-boom!
A bullet thudded into the wooden crate beside her. Someone was shooting at them!

Chapter Fifteen

“
H
EY, WHAT’S GOING
on up there, Pete?” The startled shout came from the far end of the warehouse.

“There must be
two
guards,” Nancy whispered to Ned. George let out a faint moan.

“I thought I heard something, Charlie!” the guard on the catwalk yelled back. “I was just trying to scare ’em out into the open.”

“Do you see anything now?”

The guard craned his neck to look around. “No,” he admitted. “But I did
hear
something. Sounded like a piece of metal rolling around on the floor.”

“I’ll bring the dog down and we can check it out.” A door slammed and there was silence.

George moaned again. She was propped weakly against Ned’s shoulder.

“Listen,” Ned whispered, “with George in this condition, we’re no match for a dog. Why don’t we just tell them who we are and why we’re here? They could call Ms. Amberton to confirm that it’s okay.”

“No way,” Nancy retorted. “They might be working with the kidnapper. You take George and sneak to the exit. I’ll cover you guys by getting the guards’ and the dog’s attention.”

“That’s too dangerous,” Ned objected. “Let’s think of something else.”

Another door slammed. A dog began to bark loudly. “Go get them, Spike!” the man yelled.

“There’s no time to argue,” Nancy said, jumping to her feet. “Get going!”

As Ned grabbed George and started toward the exit, Nancy dashed out into the center aisle. She ran down it until she was sure she had been spotted. Then she ducked behind another pile of crates.

“Hey, it’s a girl!” shouted Pete, the first guard. “There she goes!” Quickly, he climbed down a ladder from the catwalk. “She’s heading your way, Charlie! We’ve got her between us!”

Good, Nancy thought. It was just what she wanted. With Pete down from the catwalk and coming in her direction, Ned and George would be able to slip past him and out the door at the end. Gingerly, she began to work her way among the crates toward the outside wall.

But once she was against the wall, Nancy realized that she was in trouble. Where were the police? Pete was coming from one direction, with his gun; Charlie was coming from the other, with Spike. Ned and George must be safely outside by now, but
she
was trapped!

“All right, little lady!” Charlie yelled. “We’ve got you. Come on out now.”

Frantically, Nancy looked around. She noticed a large pile of wood shavings that were probably used for packing material. She reached in the pocket of her skirt. Yes, luckily they were still there—the book of matches she had picked up at the Greek restaurant a few nights before.

Working fast, Nancy pushed a large pile of shavings up against the sheet-metal wall. She added an oily sack that had been draped over a barrel. Then she bent over and struck a match to the pile. There on the cement floor, the fire would do no real damage. But if her scheme worked, it would distract the guards long enough to let her get away.

The yellow flames began to spread through the shavings. Seconds later the entire pile was blazing, eerie shadows flickering against the ceiling. A cloud of black, oily smoke spewed out of the flames as the sack caught fire.

“Fire!” Pete yelled frantically. “She must be trying to burn the place down!”

“Forget the girl! Get a fire extinguisher!” Charlie yelled back. “Let the dog take care of her! He’ll never let her get away!”

Spike began to bark—short, vicious yips that made the hair prickle on the back of Nancy’s neck. The dog sounded as if he meant business. Could she get past him?

Silently, Nancy edged along the wall, behind the crates. She was careful not to make any noise that might attract the dog’s attention. Halfway to the door she saw that the two guards were totally preoccupied with fighting the fire. Maybe she was close enough to make a run for it. Cautiously, she stepped into the center aisle.

But there was another loud bark. She threw a quick look back over her shoulder. A large black form about waist high emerged from the shadows. It charged after her with incredible speed, its teeth bared. It was a police dog, the largest one she had ever seen. And she’d never get to the door before
it
got to her!

Nancy dived behind several cardboard boxes and crates, pulling three or four down around her. The dog stopped and glared at her with slits for eyes, growling low in his throat. There was nothing between her and the dog but a half dozen flimsy boxes. Would they hold him back? The dog bared his teeth and growled again, the hair rising along his neck. Still it didn’t move toward her as long as she stayed perfectly still. Spike must be trained, she thought as she watched him, to corner people until his master arrived.

Nancy took a deep breath. The palms of her hands were clammy with sweat. She was safe from the dog as long as she didn’t move—for a few moments at least, until the guards put the fire out. But if she tried to make a break, the dog would attack her for sure. And from the looks of those sharp teeth, she’d be cut to ribbons in minutes. What could she do?

Just as Nancy was beginning to feel truly frightened, the silence was broken by the hum of a large electric motor. From overhead came the creaking sound of something. It sounded like a piece of machinery moving along a rail.

Nancy looked up. Above her, she could see a heavy rail suspended, like the track for a monorail train. It ran the full length of the center aisle, all the way down to the huge double doors at the end. Attached to the rail was what looked like a small cab. In the dim light, Nancy could still see that Ned was inside the cab. And from the bottom of the cab swung a large hook. Ned had come to rescue her!

“Hey, what’s that?” one of the guards shouted. Spike bared his teeth and began to growl again.

“It’s the crane!” the other one yelled. “Come on! We’ve got to cut the power!”

Nancy fixed her eyes on the hook as it swung down the aisle toward her about four feet above her head. Could she reach it? She pushed over a wooden crate and stood up on it. The hook was coming within reach now, and she grabbed it—just as Spike lunged toward her. To her relief, the hook began to pull her up out of the dog’s reach, until she dangled just above his head. And Ned was taking them straight for the door!

Shouting loudly, the guards were running down the center aisle. They were too far away to get off an accurate shot, but the crane also seemed to be moving incredibly slowly. Then Nancy turned to see the huge double doors just ahead! They were closed tight. She and Ned were going to crash into the doors!

Then a warning horn began to blare loudly. Slowly, just as the crane reached the opening, the enormous doors slid open, just wide enough for the crane to pass through. A blast of cold, wet night wind hit Nancy in the face, nearly taking her breath away. The rush of air came from the helicopter, which was hovering noisily just outside the building. Its landing lights were on, and its marker beacon flashed bright against the darkness. It was raining lightly.

“What in the world is that!” Nancy heard one of the astonished guards shout. She saw them duck behind one of the containers.

“Nancy! Get in the helicopter!” Ned shouted as he slid down the ladder from the cabin of the crane. “I’ll take care of the dog!”

Nancy let go of the hook and dropped to the ground with a thump. As she raced toward safety, Ned wrapped his jacket around his arm, holding it bent in front of him like a shield. Crouching low, he ran straight at Spike.

“Look out, Ned!” Nancy yelled. She ran toward the helicopter, hovering three feet above the dock, and hoisted herself into the copilot’s seat. George was slumped in a backseat, breathing in great gulps.

Growling ferociously, the dog charged Ned. It sunk its teeth into the jacket he had wrapped around his arm. Stubbornly, the dog held on as Ned began to back toward the helicopter, dragging the fighting dog with him.

One of the guards ran to the open door. “Stop!” he shouted. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”

“No!” the other one yelled. “It’s a company helicopter! Don’t shoot!”