Peter and the Starcatchers by Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson Read Free Book Online Page B

,” she said, pul ing him away from the doorway.
    Behind him, Peter heard the guard stumbling to his feet.
    “Here, now!” the guard was shouting. “Stop, whoever you are!”
    Peter felt Mol y dragging him to the ladder.
    “Come on ,” she said, reaching the ladder and swiftly ascending it. Peter fol owed, his mind swirling now, thinking about the flying rat, remembering the eyes he’d seen glowing in the dark.
    Molly has green eyes. They reached the next deck. Behind and below them, the guard was stil yel ing for them to stop. Peter started toward the stairway leading up to the main deck, but Mol y grabbed his arm, opened a door, pul ed him inside, and closed the door behind them. It was a smal cabin, but cozy—two bunks, one slung over the other; a tiny bureau.
    The cabin smel ed of lavender and face powder. This was obviously where Mol y and Mrs. Bumbrake stayed.
    “Mol y,” said Peter, “what …”
    He was silenced as Mol y clapped her hand over his mouth. She nodded toward the door. Peter heard the sound of boots clomping down the stairway, then past the cabin door.
    Big boots.
    The man with the whip, thought Peter. Little Richard.
    Mol y silently opened the door just as the top of the huge man’s head disappeared down the ladderway.
    “Go,” said Mol y, pushing Peter out the door. “Before Slank gets here.”
    “Al right,” said Peter, “but what was …”
    “There’s no time,” said Mol y. “Here, take this.” She turned, snatched a brown-paper package from the bureau, and shoved it into his hand. “Now, go .” Peter heard more footsteps on the deck. Clutching the package, he raced up the stairway and, keeping low, scooted forward along the ship’s starboard rail. Behind him, he heard more yel ing; one of the voices was Slank’s. But Peter’s path was clear, and he reached the forward ladderway unnoticed.
    He darted down it and, with great relief, ducked into the boys’ cramped little space, which, at this moment, seemed almost pleasant.
    James sat up. “Peter,” he said. “You’re back.”
    Peter slumped to the floor, breathing hard, his heart pounding.
    “What happened?” said Prentiss.
    “Are you al right?” said Thomas. “You look scared.”
    “I’m not scared,” said Peter, too quickly.
    “What happened?” repeated Prentiss.
    “Wel ,” said Peter, not sure how much he should tel , or how much the others would believe, “there was this room, and …”
    “Did you get food?” interrupted Tubby Ted.
    “Wel ,” said Peter, “I was trying to …”
    “You did!” said Tubby Ted, spying the package and grabbing it from Peter’s hands. “You got food!”
    “But that’s—”
    Peter was interrupted by the boys’ shouts of delight as Tubby Ted ripped open the brown paper and triumphantly held up a loaf of bread.
    “Peter!” said James. “You did it!”
    “Yes,” said Peter, quietly, looking at the bread. “Of course.”
    They managed to pry the loaf out of Tubby Ted’s hands long enough to divide it five ways. Although they could have eaten several more loaves, the worst of their hunger pangs were satisfied, and after they finished the last crumbs, they al quickly drifted off to sleep.
    Al , that is, except Peter, who tossed restlessly, reviewing his strange experience in the aft hold, questions swarming in his brain.
    How could a rat fly? What was going on in that hold? Why were they guarding it? Why was Mol y down there? Had those been her eyes he’d seen in the dark? They had to have been! But what kind of person has eyes like that, eyes that glow in the dark? How on earth could a rat fly?
    The more Peter pondered these questions, the more he became convinced that the answers, whatever they were, had something to do with the trunk, the same trunk that had made that sailor act so strange on the day the ship left port. Peter went over it again and again in his mind, trying to remember if he’d seen anything else in the hold; there was nothing, he decided.