CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Alligators, the Fight, and the Escape

The alligator sped toward Danya and Pia, its tail cracking behind it like a great, scaly whip. Its clawed feet kicked up dirt in the arena, filling the air around Danya and Pia with thick clouds of dust. It chomped as it moved, its jaws making wet clomping sounds that left Danya feeling ill. She stumbled backward, knocking into Pia. To her surprise, her fearless cousin was trembling.

“What do we do?” Pia hissed. Before Danya could answer, Petey leapt over the side of the four-foot fence and raced between the girls and the alligator, his peg legs leaving pockmarks in the dirt. He plopped down on the head of the gator, forcing its teeth shut with a snap.

“You little ladies should get out of here,” he shouted as the gator wriggled beneath him.

Just then, the gator pulled one of Petey’s peg legs off and crushed it to splinters between its teeth.

“I think he needs our help!” Danya said, unable to pull her eyes away from Petey. He laughed at the alligator, but she could see the fear in his eyes.

“How’s that taste?!” Petey said as the gator chomped his peg leg to pieces. “There’s more where that came from—got a whole closet full of peg legs at home.”

“You need to grab its jaw and clamp it shut,” Pia yelled at Petey as they backed away toward the fence. She fumbled around inside her bag and pulled out a banana.

“Use your arms,” Danya added, trying to be helpful. Pia hurled the banana with a grunt. The alligator wriggling beneath Petey caught the fruit in midair and swallowed it with a chomp. “I saw on Animal Planet that the muscles to open their jaws are really weak and—”

“You girls need to get out of here!” Petey called again. “It isn’t safe.”

The alligator was starting to pull free. Petey grabbed one of its stubby legs and flipped it onto its back.

“Take that!” Pia yelled. She pulled a croissant out of her bag and hurled it at the alligator’s head.

“You can’t fight an alligator with pastries!” Danya shouted.

Pia just shrugged. “Why not? They’re hard as rocks.” She fumbled through her backpack and finally held up the glittery pink jump rope from the boat’s lost and found. “Petey, use this!” she yelled, tossing the jump rope over to him.

“Tie its mouth,” Danya yelled. Petey fumbled one-handed for the rope and wrapped it around the gator’s jaws. “Its mouth is the worst part.”

“I think he’s good.” Petey stood, hobbling around on one leg as he wiped his hands on his jeans. The alligator tried to open its mouth, but the jump rope held tied. The moment he straightened, a sound like the roar of an ocean wave washed over all three of them. . . .

It was the audience. They were going wild! They were on their feet, shouting and hooting, clapping so enthusiastically Danya actually took a step backward, like she was worried the force of their applause would knock her down.

“Wow,” she said.

“Impressive, ladies.” Petey hopped over to the girls on the single peg leg still attached to his body. “I should be offering you my job.”

“Wouldn’t say no to that,” Pia said, grinning. “And that’s number eleven on the list—face a personal demon. . . . Snap? Hey, Snap, are you listening to me?”

Danya wasn’t listening. Cold dread clogged her throat as she watched the audience leap to their feet, clapping and cheering. With all of those people watching them, someone was sure to recognize her and Pia from Runaway Watch! In fact, she suspected someone had already called the cops and told them where to find them. This was a disaster.

Almost as soon as that thought entered her head, Danya spotted someone in the audience—Violet! There was no sign of her mother, but Violet was shoving past cheering audience members as she tried to make her way to the arena, her red-framed glasses glinting in the sun. Danya grabbed Pia’s arm.

“Pia . . .” Danya said. “Violet’s here! We have to go. Like, now!”

“We can’t go,” Pia insisted. “Petey just offered us a job.”

Danya blinked. “Wait, what? You can’t take a job!”

“Why wouldn’t I? It could be fun!”

From the corner of her eye, Danya saw Violet moving closer. “Come on!” she hissed, and yanked Pia toward the edge of the arena.

“Hey, watch it,” Pia muttered. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

The two girls scrambled back over the side of the arena as the audience rushed in around them, snapping photographs and shoving scraps of paper into their faces for autographs.

“Runaways!” Danya thought she heard someone say. Then, “Call the police. . . .”

“Pia,” Danya hissed. “Let’s go!”

Pia was busy smiling at her fans, signing autographs, and posing for photos, but when Danya grabbed her arm, she rolled her eyes.

“All right! I said I was coming.”

“Where y’all going!” Petey called, hopping after them. “I’ll be in my office if you change your mind! It’s just down by . . .” The crowd’s cheers grew louder, drowning out the sound of his voice.

“Wait!” another voice yelled. Danya glanced up in time to see the very tip of Violet’s floppy sun hat shoving its way through the crowd toward them.

Ducking away from the crowd, Danya pulled Pia beneath the bleachers, where the two of them could catch their breath. It was dark under there, and the ground was covered in discarded soda cups, sticky wads of watermelon-flavored gum, and a thick film of gooey something Danya couldn’t identify.

Danya nudged a discarded fish-shaped mask with the toe of her sneaker. “Maybe we should grab the mask? We could, like, use it to hide our identities. . . .”

Pia wrinkled her nose, and Danya thought her skin actually turned a little green. “You aren’t seriously thinking of putting that on your face, are you?”

Danya swallowed, staring down at the mask. There was something brown crusted over the side, and the other half of the fish had been eaten off by mice. Pia was right—there was no way that was touching her face.

The two girls crept forward, bent low so they wouldn’t knock their heads against the bottoms of the bleachers. Danya didn’t think Violet had seen them hide, but she had no way to be sure. When she and Pia reached the end of the bleachers, she hesitated.

“Why did you stop?” Pia asked. “I thought we had to keep moving.”

“We do, but . . .” Danya swallowed. Just across the walkway leading to the arena was the ticket booth, with a rickety sign out front reading GATORVILLE! $8 SHOW TICKETS! $10 FOR REAL BITE! It looked deserted enough, but Danya had no way of knowing whether someone from the audience would wander around to this side of the bleachers and spot them. She didn’t know if they could chance it.

Behind the booth was a tiny wooden shed—the perfect hiding place. But Danya and Pia had to make it across the walkway without Violet or anyone else seeing them first.

“Okay,” Danya said, letting out a whoosh of breath. “We run for the shed on three. One . . .”

“Three!” Pia squealed. Then she grabbed Danya’s arm and yanked her out from under the bleachers.