I ran back to the sight carrying a salmon in one hand and the fishing pole in the other. "Aim! Jackpot! A salmon! " Amy and I have über-good hearing so by the time I was a quarter a mile away I could hear a ruff, low voice, coming from the direction of my camp. I instantly went into fight mode, so I stashed the fish and pole in an abandoned fox hole and climbed up a tree.
Sliding silently from tree to tree, I made my way to the camp. I finely reached the maple where Amy had been lounging earlier, and I looked over our clearing to get the scoop on the commotion below.
Amy was forced down on a log with her hands tied behind her back and a cloth gaged in her mouth. There was a large bulky man standing right behind her with a shotgun held loosely in his right hand. Across the blazing fire there was a bald, slim, ugly man in a crisp, white and grey, suit, who had a bright orange beard. He was asking Amy if she knew where "it" was. She shook her head quickly and looked up into the trees.
That's when I saw the fear and confusion in her eyes. I put one finger to my lips, signaling for her to be quite. Her big brown eyes widened but she kept her mouth shut. I slid down the trunk of the tree, and crouched behind a nearby bush and listened to what baldy was saying.
"Listen lassie, I need to find this artifact, and the last I saw it, yea parents had it with them." he sputtered, in a thick Irish accent. The man standing by Amy tightened his grip on the gun. I shuddered.
He glared deeply at my sister, and continued. "If yea don't tell me where your parents left it, or tell me where your older sister is, yea future will not be very bright."
He practically spat the last sentence. His meaning sunk in and Amy's eyes widened further. Then she got a glint in her eye that she only gets when she's about to get in big trouble. She slowly raised a hand and pointed to the gag. Bushy Beard made an annoyed motion with his hand, and my sister's guard reached down to clumsily untie the knot in the back of her head.
That was my signal.
I sprung out from behind my bush and kicked the man in the suit in the back.
The fight began.
YOU ARE READING
Script
ActionWilliam Shakespeare has been credited with writing 37 plays and 154 sonnets. What would happen if one more was found 400 years later? This novel follows two orphaned sisters and a boy who seems to know just a little bit too much, as they are thrown...
