CHAPTER 68

Beck and I raced across the Collier camp, heading for the motorbikes.

Dad and Storm went to Chet, who was fast asleep on a rolled-out blanket. Dad deftly removed the key ring from his belt. I think he learned pickpocketing when he went to CIA Spy School. He’s scary-good at it. Especially for a parent.

Then they went over to the post where Tommy was chained—and wide awake, by the way.

Beck and I hopped on a pair of ATVs and kick-started them.

The instant they roared to life, we jumped on a different pair and got them revving, too.

The other two were for Dad and Tommy. Storm doesn’t ATV. She’d hang on to Dad or Tommy.

“Who’s stealing the ATVs this time?” screamed Nathan Collier, climbing out of his high-tech sleeping bag and patting his hair to make certain all his curls were locked in place.

“We are!” I shouted. “Catch us if you can, Collier!”

Oh, yeah. I really spat out that K sound.

Beck zoomed left. I zoomed right.

Not to brag, but both of us are awesome on ATVs!

I did a little of what’s called drifting around the campsite. I spun my ride in circles with my rear tires slipping out to the side, which kicked up a ton of gritty dirt that sprayed all over the bad guys; they had to wipe their eyes even more than usual as they woke up.

Beck was up in a squat, keeping most of her weight toward the back of her ATV. I could tell she was about to execute a jump right over the high-priest dude. She gunned the throttle and bought some major-league air, sailing inches above the startled old guy.

The high priest was so stunned, I was able to swoop into a fishtail skid, buzz past, lean down, and snag his headpiece. On my second pass, I got the rod with the Sacred Stone locked into the golden corncob.

“Finders keepers,” I shouted. “Losers weepers. Yee-haw!”

Beck and I whooped and hollered and put on an incredible display of ATV freestyle moves. It was more fun than a video game because it was real!

Meanwhile, Dad, Tommy, and Storm had charged across the clearing to the two quads we’d started for them. Dad and Storm hopped on one ATV, Tommy on the other. Beck and I circled back to the starting line and joined the Kidd family parade.

“Follow my lead!” shouted Dad.

“Yes, sir!” we all shouted back.

No way were we disobeying Dad again.

Although maybe we should’ve. He was kind of new to ATV riding.

He led us back to the steps we’d climbed down earlier.

ATVs aren’t great on steps or staircases. You have to pop a wheelie for every single step you’re trying to climb.

Dad made it up just one before his engine died.

Something we were all about to do.

Because Collier’s goons were maybe ten yards behind us.

Supay, too.

And he had that knife.