“Now, hold on a minute,”
said the chief. “Just because you heard
Richards say something about a refinery doesn’t mean that’s where he is. More than likely, he realized we’re on to him
and is fleeing town.”
“Richards wouldn’t leave
that easily,” Auburn explained. “He’s
too masterful a villain for that.”
“He’s not stupid,”
admitted the chief, “but that’s exactly why he’s leaving. If he does try anything at the refinery,
though, he won’t get very far. They keep
that place very well guarded, to prevent incidents from happening. Anyway—hold on a second, Valentine—Anyway,
Ponca City’s not in our jurisdiction. If
Richards has fled there, it’s up to their police to stop him. We’ll do everything we can to find him in
Blackwell, I can assure you. Just leave
it to us.”
Brittany hung up,
disgustedly. “I’m inclined to agree with
you,” she said. “Richards is probably
headed to that refinery now, and he’s going to make those kids blow it up. Although…” she commented, “Richards has had
an hour to get away. You’d think, if he
were going to blow up the place, we’d have heard about it by now—or at least
seen the smoke.”
Auburn shook her
head. “He’s probably waiting ‘till
nightfall,” she said. “Less people will
be there then, and it’ll be easier for him to avoid detection.” She checked her watch. “Which, the way the days have been going
lately, gives us about forty-five minutes to get over there. Let’s go get Jimmy and some of the other club
members. We’re going to stop him!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Have you ever seen a
refinery at night?
Viewed from the railroad
tracks, it looks like its own city.
Lights are everywhere, illuminating a vast network of pipes, tubes, and
conduits running every which way. Sleek
metal tracks beneath usually contain tank cars in the process of being loaded,
and somewhere above, a flame shoots into the air—extra fuel being burned off.
From the road, however,
the refinery looked like a much different place. Significantly fewer lights shone here; those
that did illuminated a shiny, metal fence running the length of the
property. Gates provided entrances every
few feet, but these were securely locked, and the moonlight glinted off
menacing strands of barbed wire. Beyond,
the silhouettes of huge storage tanks loomed black against the night.
This was the view Auburn
and Brittany had as they approached the place.
Jimmy Redford, Billy Thurston, and Hal Rowan were sort of with
them—they’d started circling around in the other direction, in case Richards
was breaking in on multiple fronts.
Brittany had driven them there in her Camry, but she’d parked it about
half a mile west of the refinery, to avoid detection.
“I’m not sure exactly
where Richards will try to get in,” she said, “so why don’t we split up? You guys circle around to the left, and
Auburn and I will head this way. And
whatever you do, don’t get separated!”
That sounded like a good
plan, and right now, the boys were working their way along the railroad tracks
in search of Richards. Auburn and
Brittany, meanwhile, snuck on down the highway.
The only sounds they heard were crickets, the humming of machinery, and
their own footsteps.
“You ever been here
before?” Auburn asked her friend.
Brittany shook her
head. “I’ve driven past it several
times, but I’ve never been inside.
Although, my family does have some friends that work here.”
“Back in Kansas City,”
said Auburn, “I did get to tour a dairy once—”
“Oh, I’ve been to one of
those before!” Brittany exclaimed. “The
Hiland plant in Norman! It was
fascinating! I really enjoyed watching
the machine seal shut those little milk cartons as they ran down the conveyor
belt—”
“Shh!” exclaimed Auburn. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
whispered Brittany.
“It sounded like metal
rattling,” said Auburn. “Up ahead! Look!”
About fifty feet ahead of
them was a gate, securely locked to the outside world. A small figure stood against it, rattling it
furiously.
“Hello!” it called. “Is anyone there?”
Brittany gasped. “Helen!
I recognize her voice!”
The youngest member of
the Brotherhood Club certainly wasn’t being subtle about trying to get in. She rattled and shook the gate as hard as she
could, just begging for attention. She
got it, too. A night watchman making his
usual patrol spotted her and hurried over.
“Hey, now, what are you
doing here this late at night?”
His flashlight beam
showed a pale, scared face. “Help!”
Helen said weakly. “I’m in trouble!”
It was against the rules
to open the gates to anyone without ID, but a girl Helen’s age wasn’t going to
cause any trouble. At least, that’s what
the guard thought as he opened the gate.
“Come on in, sit down, and tell me what’s—”
Hiss!!!
Helen stared in horror as
the guard fell to the ground, even though she’d been the one to knock him out
with that little spray bottle she had in her hand. The flashlight fell, but not before showing a
large backpack strapped to Helen’s back.
Bending forward slightly so as to better support the weight, she
shuffled slowly across the ground, straight towards the hill running around one
of those tanks.
Crouched in their hiding
place, Auburn and Brittany watched the girl, wondering what she was up to. Helen, for her part, stepped hesitatingly and
uncertainly, as if she didn’t have any idea either. She was just climbing up the hill when
suddenly, Brittany tapped Auburn on the shoulder and pointed urgently at
something on the other side of the street.
RICHARDS!!!
He’d risen from the ditch
he’d been hiding in, and now he stared silently at Helen, struggling towards
the summit. As she neared the top of the
hill, Richards’s hand came out of his pocket.
The moonlight glinted off the worst possible thing for Helen right now.
A
GUN! A REAL ONE!
Richards seemed strangely
reluctant to fire it. He shifted slowly
sideways through the ditch, stiffly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to
do. The moonlight glinted off the
barrel, adjusting slightly as Richards’s position changed. He’d gone exactly ten feet to his left before
Auburn figured out what he was doing.
From this new angle,
Helen’s left side was fully exposed.
Richards could shoot her and miss the backpack entirely. A grin crossed over his face as he lifted his
hand and took aim—
Suddenly, a figure rushed
out of the darkness and grabbed his arm!
It was Brittany, and her
attack caught Richards by surprise. He
didn’t drop the gun right away, but his shot went wild, as Brittany’s hands
closed around his. She dug her
fingernails into his skin, loosening his grip on the gun. Pulling it away from him, Brittany tossed it
daintily over the barbed-wire fence on the other side of the road, preventing
Richards from getting it back.
Auburn, meanwhile, had
rushed through the gate in full pursuit of Helen. At the sound of the shot, the girl had
collapsed, and Auburn’s heart raced as she rushed towards her. “Helen!
Helen!” she yelled.
Fearing the worst, Auburn
bent over the girl’s inert body. A sense
of relief washed over her, as she felt a nice, steady pulse in Helen’s
wrist. The sound of the gunshot, added
to all the other stress she must have faced, had merely thrown her into a faint.
Relived that she was
alright, Auburn next turned her attention to the backpack. It was rather heavy; inside, Auburn could
feel a misshapen object with wires sticking out all over it. She unzipped the top and peeked in, then
gasped.
Directly inside lay a
small, cylindrical object. Several wires
were fastened to the top of it, and bright, neon red letters spelled out READY on
a screen. It didn’t take too many movies
to figure out what this was.
A
BOMB!!!!
Gingerly, Auburn zipped
the backpack shut, then put it on her own back, knowing she had to get it away
from the tank in front of her. As she
stood up, she became aware of more footsteps, scurrying across the way she’d
just come. She glanced over her shoulder,
and her heart leaped into her throat as she saw Richards!
Apparently, Brittany
hadn’t fared too well in the fight after her initial success. Auburn’s friend was nowhere to be seen, but
she obviously wasn’t going to help Auburn right now. Not wanting Richards to get the bomb, Auburn
took off with it strapped across her back!
She headed straight
through the large ditch surrounding the tank (designed to catch hazardous fluid
should it ever spill); then, she clambered out on the other side. Running down the hill proved easier, but at
the bottom, Auburn’s breathing came in quick, short gasps. She wasn’t used to this type of running,
particularly with a backpack on.
Heaving deeply, she dared
to sneak a quick look over her shoulder.
Richards was just coming to the top of the hill, the gap closing as he
drew ever closer to his fleeing rival.
Auburn fought for every last ounce of strength as she started up another
hill, surrounding yet another one of the tanks.
Yet, as she topped this
one and sped to the bottom, she knew she couldn’t keep going much longer. Her breath was coming in even quicker gasps
now, and her lungs burned. She couldn’t
outrun Richards indefinitely; she had to get him off her trail! But how?
Few options greeted her
eyes. She was in a circular ditch,
running around a circular tank. The
trench was man-made, and no depressions presented themselves. As for the tank, it was smooth all the way
around…
Except for the staircase
leading up the back of it.
As soon as she saw it,
Auburn started up. It was her only
hope. Maybe Richards would make his way
around to the back and think she’d gone on, over the hill on the other
side. There was a good chance. Why would anyone try climbing the tank? Better yet, the staircase wound cylindrically
around the side of the tank. Even when
Richards reached its base, he wouldn’t be able to see her around the other
end. There was a pretty good chance he’d
keep on going, and once he was past, the chances of his returning to the right
tank were slim.
Auburn fought her way up,
hope giving her the energy for each step.
There were a lot of them. It
seemed like an hour had passed before she was halfway to the top, and another
had gone by before she was five-sixths of the way there! In reality, it was only a couple minutes
before she wearily stumbled out on top of the tank.
The roof was shiny and
slick; had Auburn not been wearing sneakers, she doubted she could have stayed
on. From its circumference, the roof
rose gradually in ever-shrinking circles to a peak in the center. Auburn stumbled her way toward this peak,
hoping to find a second staircase down.
An amazing view met her
eyes as she reached the summit—lights from distant towers—the flame burning off
extra fuel—Ponca City, less than a mile in the distance—but the thing she
wished to see most, another staircase—that was not to be found. Grimly, Auburn turned back towards the one
she’d just come from and started to crouch down, hoping to wait out the storm—
Then, she heard the worst
possible sound she could hear.
Footsteps. Metallic ones. Getting louder as their source moved higher
and higher up the lone staircase to the tower.
Her ruse hadn’t worked,
and she found herself staring straight into Richards’s eyes!
“Well, well, well, look
who it is!” smiled the well-dressed club leader, rubbing his hands
together. “The girl that was visiting
her great-aunt. Only, that’s not your
real story, is it? You live here, don’t
you?”
Auburn was silent, trying
to control the terror building up inside her.
“Perhaps you’re that
Reynolds girl,” said Richards, taking a step towards her. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’ve been suspecting it ever since I saw you
and realized you were the right age for my club. Why wouldn’t you be signed up—unless, of
course, you were the only one in town with an excuse?”
Auburn took a step back,
as Richards came closer.
“One of your friends must
have told you what I was up to.
Apparently, they realized that I couldn’t go through with my threats,
thanks to that Purple Porcupine. Really,
though, it’s none of my concern.”
Richards yawned. “He’s probably
killed off all their relatives anyway, leaving my hands quite free of any
wrongdoing—”
“Then why are you running
away?” asked Auburn, stopping. “Unless,
of course, there’s more evidence against you than you’re willing to admit?”
“Some’s emerged,” said
Richards, casually, “but that’ll happen in any scheme that goes on too
long. I had a good thing going for me in
Blackwell. I made a lot of money, had a
little fun with the residents, and became a hero! All while managing to avoid detection by the
authorities! Really, it’s the most
wonderful little scheme you could ask for.”
“Horrible would be a
better word,” said Auburn.
“Now, that just depends
on perspective, doesn’t it?” said Richards.
“There will always be a battle between those who follow the rules to
earn their living and those who break them.
But when you break the rules, you haven’t any to follow, and you can go
by as many playbooks as you want! You
can see why my side will always win.”
Stall
for time! Auburn told herself.
Richards doesn’t have a gun! Maybe the police will—
“Shame you have no
helicopter to pick you up,” Richards said.
“I guess that’s what differentiates the movie heroes from the real-life
ones. If you were James Bond, there’d be
someone around to rescue you, but there’s not.
You’re just a common, ordinary, helpless little girl.”
It was the word little
that threw Auburn over the edge—figuratively, not literally, of course. With six grades of school under her belt, she
resented Richards’s patronizing attitude.
Little referred to someone three—four—five or six, maybe. Not twelve!
“You’d better watch your
mouth, you scoundrel!” she retorted. “Any
insult you have for me just makes you look dumber. Who was it that’s responsible for the
position you’re in now? Who do you think
it was that stopped those kids from taking your orders? Why do you suppose everybody that disappeared
was on the list?”
For the first time,
Richards appeared the least bit rattled.
That sickening, false smile on his face curved downwards as he started
to guess the awful truth. “You mean, you
know—”
“I read one of your
newspaper articles,” Auburn went on.
“You talked about how children are underrated—how they can actually make
a difference in society. Well, you were
right about that, and the one kid you couldn’t get as a pawn is the one that’s
run your entire organization into the ground.
I’m the Purple Porcupine!”
“You?!” Richards’s expression
was one of shock, but as the seconds ticked by, realization crept across his
face. “That figure in the stairwell, the
scream at the house, the yell at the train station—”
“Oh, that last part
wasn’t me,” said Auburn. “I didn’t
expect you to come, so I didn’t bother to show up either. Instead, I let you send Hardaway and Olson
into a trap.” She laughed. “From what I hear, they’ve told the police
enough to send you a mile up the river—”
“But they won’t!”
shrieked Richards. Then, the smile crept
back across his face. “After tonight,
Jack Richards will disappear from the world.
Meanwhile, in another small town, already prearranged, a new savior will
pop up. He’ll start a new club for the
community, and he’ll get new boys and girls working for him. Soon, a new population will fall victim to my
spell, and they’ll worship me at the same time.
It’s just a shame you won’t be around to see it happen!”
With that, Richards
started towards Auburn, preparing to finish her off—
All at once, a brilliant
spotlight illuminated the top of the tank.
“Give yourself up, Richards!” a voice screamed. “You’re done!”
“Valentine!” gasped Auburn
Ever since Valentine had
gone after the mayor, he’d been falling out of the chief’s good graces. When he’d overheard Auburn’s phone call to
the chief, he’d decided this might be a chance to redeem himself. Quick as a flash, he’d hurried to Ponca City. There was still no sign of the Ponca City
Police—or any other police, for that matter—but Valentine saw no reason to tell
Richards that.
“We’ve got you
surrounded!” he threw in, for effect.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
yelled Richards. “You see, gentlemen, I
have four helpers here tonight. Each of
them has placed a bomb at a different point around this refinery. If you try to take me by force, I’ll push the
button and blow this place to kingdom come.”
“He wouldn’t dare!”
screamed Auburn, as loudly as she could.
“I’ve got one of them right up here with him!”
Richards would’ve shot
her at that moment if he’d had a gun—but he didn’t, so he most he could do was
give her a withering glare. “I’m not
going to prison, so there’s two ways we can do this!” he said. “You try to apprehend me, and I blow myself
up, taking you in the process. You let
me walk out of here, I let your refinery stand.
Maybe you’ve come to doubt my honesty, but the only choice you can
afford is the one that might leave this refinery standing.”
“You don’t really want to
blow yourself up, do you?” Valentine yelled.
“You don’t really want to
find out, do you?” asked Richards. “Let
me come down, give me safe passage out, and you won’t have to worry. Otherwise, everybody dies—me, this girl, and
y—”
“Auburn!”
It was Jimmy’s
voice—loud, clear, and coming from the other side of the tank. “Listen carefully! We found Trevor, Fred, and Lou and got their
bombs away from them. Billy knows
something about electronics, and he figured out how to defuse them. It’s the third wire from the left! The third wire from the left! Pull it, Auburn!”
It’s situations like
these that make us most likely to wonder, My
left or yours? For Auburn, the
difference was her life.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
sneered Richards. Auburn looked up, saw
the malicious grin on his face, the boldness of his demeanor, the total lack of
fear in his eyes—
And she realized Richards
wasn’t the least bit worried about the bomb going off.
Swiftly, she reached into
the backpack and pulled out a wire.
Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.
Triumphant, Auburn tossed
the wire off the tank and watched it float calmly towards the ground—
“You fool!” Richards
glared ominously after the wire, now useless in his bomb. Then, his glare fixated on Auburn. “Alright, you asked for this!” he yelled,
running towards her.
Tossing off the backpack,
Auburn was ready. She moved with swift
strides along the other side of the tank, edging closer to the staircase. Richards’s pursuit had left it exposed, and
if she could get to it, she could get down—down to safety, help, and allies—
Only Richards saw his
goof and compensated, running back along the roof of the tank until he stood
squarely between Auburn and the staircase.
Again, he started towards her, arms outstretched.
Auburn darted the other
way, struggling to get a grip on the lid of the tank. She climbed to the peak, and started down the
other side—
Only to see Richards move
over and block that!
“Give up, Miss
Reynolds. You don’t stand a chance.”
“Not on your life!”
Auburn edged the other
way, but Richards again moved. He lunged
at her, and she drew back, then made a run the other direction, but not fast
enough to beat Richards. The cat-and-mouse
game continued, with Richards blocking the safety of the mousehole, or
staircase, as it really was.
“Maybe you could answer a
question for me,” Richards said, stopping.
“I met your parents—charming people—at a social earlier this year, and
they mentioned that you were an invalid.
Just what is it that’s wrong with you?
Do you have heart trouble? Is it
muscular? Are you crazy? Do you—”
“Do I look like I have
anything wrong with me?” Auburn asked, darting to her right again.
“You look like you’re
getting tired,” Richards laughed. “Why
don’t you realize it’s hopeless?”
Auburn was getting tired,
and she knew it. All those midnight
escapades were taking their toll, and she wasn’t making any progress with
Richards. She had to try something else,
before Richards grabbed her and threw her over the side. Shifting, she started back to the left, then
suddenly fell to her knees.
“Ha-ha-ha!” laughed
Richards, coming towards her, arms outstretched, ready to seize her in a bear
hug of death—
His feet, however, stood
widely apart from each other as he struggled to keep his balance on the sloped
roof. When he was almost close enough to
grab the girl, Auburn suddenly lunged between his legs. She slid across the slick roof just ahead of
his grasp. Now, Richards was behind her!
Picking herself up, she
started for the staircase.
Richards recovered his
balance, shuffled around, and sprinted after her.
The tank was large—still,
Auburn could see it getting closer. It
was forty paces away—thirty—
Richards had started into
an all-out sprint on the right side—
Twenty—
Richards was giving it
everything he had—
Fifteen—ten—five—
A horrible pain struck
Auburn in the side, suddenly, and she collapsed on the roof. It wasn’t anything physically serious, just
one of those muscle cramps you get when you’ve been doing more aerobic activity
than normal. However, it kept her from
going any farther, and it gave Richards that split second he needed. Triumphantly, he leapt the final few feet,
landing squarely in front of the stairs—
And realized—in horror—the
issue with his wardrobe choice.
Those shiny dress shoes
Richards always wore were perfect for leaving a good impression. They were excellent in interviews, at public
speaking events, in appealing to parents.
No one doubted looking at Richards that he was quite professional in his
work.
However, he was not used
to crawling around on top of crude oil tanks.
The shiny white dome had almost no traction on it, and the wooden soles
of his shoes possessed very little themselves.
Until this point, Richards had compensated by sending his weight
squarely downwards each time he took a step.
With little force heading sideways, his shoes were unable to slip either
direction, and he got around the top of the tank fine. In making his last leap, though, he sent all
his momentum to his right. The shoes failed to get a grip, and Richards slid
across the edge of the tank—
Until,
with a scream, he plunged over the side!
Auburn watched, hardly
able to believe her eyes. It was a
terrible way to go, yes, but Richards was a terrible man, and he’d been trying
to kill her. She staggered to her feet,
unable to believe her life had been saved.
The world swirled around her, and she shook her head in an effort to
regain her wits after all that running—
Suddenly, she noticed the
humming in her ears.
Another
attack, less than five feet from the railing itself!
There was no one to call
out to, nobody to help! Auburn made a
grab for the staircase railing, but she was several feet short, and she missed
it. She had no second chance—the spinning
was too severe now for her to focus at all.
With a scream, she started rolling towards the edge—
And suddenly, a slender
hand came from out of nowhere and caught her!
“Don’t worry,
Auburn! You’re going to be all right!”
Auburn couldn’t see her
face, but she knew Brittany McPherson wasn’t going to let go.
Hooray!
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