Underdogs by Markus Zusak Read Free Book Online Page B

without the proper safety-standard bars.
    Of course, we knew we couldn’t succeed.
    The only problem was, we did.
    We snuck out the back door of home at about quarter to twelve with our hoods hunching over our heads and footsteps raking us forward. We walked calmly, even toughly, down our street with smoky breath, hands in pockets, and whispers of greatness stuffed down our socks. Our sniffs and breathing scratched us through the air, pulling it apart, and I felt like that Julius Caesar guy going to conquer another empire — and all we were doing was stealing a lousy gray-and-pink triangle that should have been white and red.
    Give way.
    “More like give
away,”
Rube snickered as we arrived at the scene of the sign. He got up, slipped, then got up again on my shoulders.
    “Right.” He spoke again once he found balance.
    “Spanner.”
    “Huh?”
    “Spanner,
you stupid sap.” His whisper was harsh and heavily smoked in the cold. “Oh, right, yeah, I forgot.”
    I handed him the spanner or wrench or whatever you want to call it and my brother proceeded to unscrew the give-way sign on the junction of Marshall and Carlisle streets.
    “Geez, she’s a bit bloody stubborn,” Rube pointed out. “The bolt’s so rusty that all the garbage is gettin’ stuck on the nut. Just keep holdin’ me up, okay?”
    “I’m gettin’ tired,” I mentioned.
    “Well, get through it. The pain barrier. The pain barrier, son. All the greats could always break through the pain barrier.”
    “The great whats? Sign stealers?”
    “No.” It was sharp. “Athletes, you yobbo.”
    Then came the triumph.
    “Right,” Rube announced, “I’ve got it.” He jumped off my shoulders with the sign just as a light came on in one of the dilapidated flats on the corner.
    A woman stepped out onto her balcony and sighed, “Ah, grow up, will y’s.”
    “C’mon.” Rube tugged at my sweatshirt. “Go go go!”
    We took off, laughing as Rube held the sign up above his head, cheering, “Oh, yes!”
    Even when we snuck back into our house, the adrenaline was still crouching in my blood, then springing forward, taking off. It disappeared slowly when we were back in our bedroom. With the light off in our room almost instantly, Rube slid the sign under his bed and said, just for fun, “Tell Mum or Dad about this and I’ll see if I can fit this sign down your throat.” I laughed a little and soon fell asleep, still hearing the gentle sounds of women sighing at undesirables in the middle of the night. I wondered about Rebecca Conlon before sleep came as well, and I remembered moments when we walked down the street and when we were abducting the sign in which I pretended she was watching me. I wasn’t sure if she would like me or think I was a complete idiot. Complete idiot, most likely.
    “Ah, well,” I whispered to myself under my blanket. “Ah, well,” and I started praying for her and everyone else I had prayed for lately. In the night, not long after sleep captured me, my dream came — a bad one. A nightmare. A proper one.
    You will see it soon enough….
    Next day, in the morning, Rube took the sign out to admire it again in the comfort of our room. I was coming back in from the shower.
    “Isn’t she beautiful?
    “Yeah.” I didn’t sound too keen, though.
    “What’s with you?”
    “Nothin’.” It was the nightmare.
    “Okay.” He put the sign away again and poked his head into the hall. “Aah.” He looked back at me. “Y’ left the bathroom door open again — do you do that on purpose just to let the cold in before I go in the shower?”
    “I forgot.”
    “Well lift your game.”
    He left, but I followed him, with my hair wet and sticking up in all directions.
    “Where the hell do y’ think you’re going?”
    “I’ve gotta tell you something.”
    “Right.” He shut me out of the bathroom. I heard the shower go on, the door unlock, the curtain shut, and then a shout came. “Come in!”
    I went in and sat on the