Attack of the Tagger by Wendelin Van Draanen Read Free Book Online Page B

smooth. I was quick. The streetlights were bright, but I don’t think anyone saw me.
    I was in sneak mode!
    Instead of using the sidewalk, I went down to the soccer field. Then I crept up to the teachers’ parking lot through the bushes. Not a car anywhere, but aha! The yard-waste bags were still piled up by the office.
    I swooped down on them without a sound. Lots were heavy with grass clippings, but I found one full of big dry leaves that was light.
    Voom!
I threw it over my shoulder.
    Tip-tip-tip-tip-tip-tip-tip!
I tiptoed across the parking lot. The bag was full, but carrying it was easy!
    I felt like some sort of Super-Santa!
    I moved it into the bushes. I untied the bag’s drawstrings. I emptied half of the leaves.

    I had to make room for me!
    A totally empty sack would have been easier, and for sure more comfortable. But I wasn’t doing this for ease or comfort.
    I was doing this to catch a villain!
    Plus, a boy in a sack does not look like yard waste. It looks like a boy in a sack.
    When I was done dumping leaves, I startedcutting flaps. Flaps that hinged on top. Two on the bottom for the legs, two on the sides for the arms, one in front for the face, and inside the face flap, another little three-inch flap for my right eye.
    My camera eye.
    Then I hauled my trash sack disguise back up the hill. I lost a few leaves out of the flaps along the way, but not too bad! I hid my sack behind the other yard-waste sacks and looked all around. Had anybody seen me?
    No. The whole block looked deserted. I crouched by the sacks for a minute just to be sure. It felt weird being at school alone. In the dark. I felt like I’d been beamed up to a distant planet in the galaxy.
    Only there was my house, right across the street.
    When I left the sack and ran for home, it felt like I was running under negative G’s. I was weightless! Across the parking lot. Across the street! I was flying!
    Gravity started working again when I tried to get back in the window. Boy! It took me forever!
    When I finally got inside, I put my screen back in, set my alarm, and hit the hay.
    My brain was zooming with doubts. Timing was everything, but how long should I wait? I couldn’t send the e-mail too soon— Ryan would have the chance to tag his mother’s car in their own driveway!

    But what if Bubba didn’t check his computer before school? What if he didn’t call Ryan in time? I’d be ditching school for nothing!
    But the more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that my plan would work. I’d gotten same-day action with my TAGGERALERT! e-mail… and they were probably now on
red
alert.
    Plus, Ryan would be more of a big shot to his friends if he tagged his mother’s car at school. And it would be easier to cover his tracks. There’d be hundreds of kids to question! Lots of suspects.
    But was I really going to ditch school? Was I really going to hide in a trash sack? Was I really going to …
    When my alarm buzzed in the morning, I felt like I hadn’t slept a wink. But there was no time to snooze!
    I jumped out of bed.
    I booted up my computer.
    I read the e-mail over one last time.
    Then I clicked on Send and crossed my fingers that my plan wouldn’t backfire again.

CHAPTER 14
Trash Sack Hero
    The minute the message was gone, my heart started pumping. There was no going back now! I was either going to be a hero or in some hot water. I’m talking 100 degrees Celsius.
    212 Fahrenheit!
    Boiling
hot!
    I dove back into bed. Too late to worry about that now. I had work to do!
    Next step: act sick so Mom would believe me later when I told her I came home sick from school.
    I started coughing.
Cough-cough-cough.
Not too hard. Not too soft.
Cough-cough-cough.
    I waited a minute. Nobody came.
    I tried a little louder—
cough-cough-cough
—and moaned a little for good measure.
    Nobody came.
    So,
cough-cough-cough
I went again.
Louder.
    This time there was a
tap-tap-tap
on my door. “Honey?” my mom said, sticking her head inside.