There was only one thing for it. Run!
Lizzie bolted for the safety of the show tent, toward the lights and the crowds of people. Her chest hurt and she gasped for breath as she put on even more speed.
Behind her, she heard the Phantom grunting and panting as he tried to catch up. Ahead, someone was coming out of the crowd, moving toward her. The light behind him cast a long three-legged shadow across the grass. She prayed it was a friend.
Wait — three-legged shadow?
It was Malachy, hobbling toward her on his crutch. He saw who was following, waved frantically, and yelled out a warning. “It’s him! The Phantom’s here!”
“I know!” Lizzie shrieked. “Get to the mayor!”
Malachy ignored her. He kept coming in her direction, swinging as fast as he could on his crutch and one good leg.
Lizzie glanced over her shoulder. The Phantom was almost upon her now, but he was staggering and winded. If she was lucky, Malachy might reach her before the Phantom did. Not that two would have much more of a chance than one against him.
Malachy and the Phantom reached Lizzie at the exact same moment. Malachy blocked the Phantom’s path, while Lizzie ducked around him.
“Run!” Malachy shouted. “I’ll slow him down!”
“You won’t,” the Phantom snorted in his hoarse voice. Without breaking stride, he thrust an arm into Malachy’s chest. The boy fell back and went sprawling on the grass. The Phantom laughed, a gross-sounding chuckle.
This is it, Lizzie thought. My goose is cooked. The safety of the show tent was still a hundred paces away. It might as well have been a hundred miles.
But as the Phantom lunged to grab her by the hair, Malachy let out a yell and flung his crutch. It spun through the air and caught the Phantom below the knees. The Phantom stumbled and fell.
“Keep running!” Malachy shouted. “Get to the show tent. There’s too many people in there for him to do anything.”
Lizzie ran for her life. She was sick with fear at the thought of what the Phantom might do to Malachy, but she couldn’t turn around again, not now.
As the Phantom struggled to his feet, he staggered for a moment like a drunken man, then came after her with fresh strength. But now he was limping from where Malachy’s crutch had caught his legs. Grunts of pain came from him every time he moved.
The lights and noise of the show tent loomed closer. Almost there, Lizzie told herself. Come on, girl. You can do it!
But as she ran, Lizzie realized she couldn’t go in through the front after all. There were just too many people to push through. She’d never reach the mayor in time. Lizzie changed direction and ran toward the back of the tent, into the dark shadows where the animal cages were. She dove to the ground and pulled up the edge of the tent, wriggling under the damp canvas fabric, and crawling in. She could smell the moist grass, the sweat from the horses, and the soft warm smell of the whale-oil lanterns. Smells that meant safety.
Lizzie realized she’d come out behind the rows of raised seating, in a dark cluttered space where the unused scenery was kept. The audience were almost all inside, and the show had begun.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Fitzy called, “I welcome you one and all to a night of dazzling entertainment!” Trumpets blared and cymbals clashed. The crowd roared and applauded heartily.
The wall of the tent bulged beside Lizzie, and the canvas flap lifted. The Phantom was fighting his way into the tent. There was only one thing she could do now. Lizzie took as big a breath as she could and screamed at the top of her lungs.
It wasn’t enough. The music and the crowd’s roaring completely drowned out the sound of her screams. She felt the ground vibrate under her feet. Hoof beats — Nora and Erin must be riding into the ring to start the show.
Lizzie backed further into the shadows, biting her knuckles in pure terror as the Phantom struggled under the lip of the tent and pulled himself to his feet. He glanced around, looking for Lizzie, and quickly found her. He advanced on her, forcing her back up against the tent wall. There was nowhere left to run. As if on cue, the crowd gasped, “Oooh!”
“Don’t fight, girl,” the Phantom rasped, fighting for breath. “It’ll be over a lot quicker that way.”
There were so many people in this tent. Any one of them could have saved her from him. But not a single one could hear her. The Phantom lunged at her with both hands.
I’m going to die, Lizzie realized. Here in the dark, in this overwhelming noise. Nobody’s going to find my body until the circus packs up to go.
Just then, Lizzie glimpsed a rope ladder dangling to one side and decided she wasn’t ready to die just yet. She leaped up and caught a rung, pulling herself up out of the Phantom’s grasp, and climbing for all she was worth.
The ladder led up the side of the big tent to the very top, where one of the lighting ropes was tied. Those criss-crossed ropes, which were higher than even the high wire, held a line of dangling lanterns that lit the circus from the top down. Every night, someone had to clamber up here to light them. She felt the rope ladder shake and glanced down. The Phantom was following her up — and the whack Malachy had given him with his crutch didn’t seem to be slowing him down.
Lizzie kept climbing, hand over hand, until she could see the crowds seated below her. The equestrian show was in full swing, with Nora lashing out with her bullwhip, smacking juggling clubs out of the air as Erin threw them.
Look at me! Lizzie wanted to scream. I’m here! But the crowd was howling and stamping with excitement, and the band was playing up a storm. Nobody would hear, even if she fell to her death.
“Keep going!” Lizzie told herself. “You can do this!”
On and on Lizzie climbed. She was perilously high now, almost at the lighting rope. The Phantom was right below her, grunting as he grabbed rung after rung.
Then, suddenly, she was at the top — and there was nowhere left to go. Despair overwhelmed her. As Lizzie looked down at the tiny figures below, the Phantom grabbed her foot! She gripped the rungs tight and kicked wildly, trying to fling him off the ladder. But he was too strong. Now he was pulling her, dragging her down toward him.
Lizzie felt something heavy in her pocket. All at once she remembered the little crystal ball she’d tucked in there. She flung it as hard as she could, straight for the band, hoping she didn’t hurt anyone.
CRASH! went a cymbal, completely out of time. The music faltered.
“STOP!” a voice yelled.
Fitzy? Lizzie hardly dared to hope.
The music fell silent. A chorus of gasps went up from the crowd, and a light flashed across Lizzie’s eyes. Someone was shining a bull’s-eye lantern up into the high shadows, trying to find them.
“Up there!” Fitz shouted. “Up by the third rope!”
The crowd started murmuring in puzzlement. Was this part of the show? Lizzie had only seconds to act. She filled her lungs and let out an ear-splitting scream.
The light found them. Now there were screams from the audience too. Cries of “Phantom!” rang out all around the ring, and Lizzie saw the circus performers staring up at her, pointing in horror. The Phantom hung frozen in place, the lantern light revealing him clearly.
Lizzie would never get this chance again. She took it.
“Let’s see who you really are!” With one deft move, she reached down. The Phantom flung up a hand to stop her, but he was a second too late.
Lizzie tore the mask off his face.