Carolyn Keene - This Side of Evil

“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

“Hey, 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?