Muck looked up as Mr. Dillinger climbed back onto the bench. Mr. Dillinger looked crushed. He shook his head at Muck, but it was already obvious. Everything Mr. Dillinger had to say was on his face. No Nish.
“We could use that crazy idiot right about now,” said Sam.
Travis saw that Sam was beyond worry. She was afraid for Nish. He realized how much Sam liked Nish, even if she never let on for a moment. The same for Sarah, who was biting her lip and staring out at the Zamboni as if it, somehow, held the answer.
“HHHHELLLPPPPPP!”
“I’M HERE – INSIDE THE ZAMBONI!”
The louder Nish screamed, the more his voice seemed to be lost in the roar of the machine.
The smell of the propane was much stronger now. He was breathing in fumes. His head was throbbing. His eyes stung. He was gagging. The snow was churning in on him. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.
The thought came to him in a flash. He’d use his skates! His hands were tied in duct tape, but whoever had tossed him in here had done nothing to his legs. He could bang his skate blades against the metal sides of the Zamboni.
He kicked hard.
Bang! Bang!… Bang! Bang! Bang!… Bang! Bang!
“Do you hear that?” Sarah turned her head.
“Hear what?”
“Something’s banging in the Zamboni!”
Travis listened hard. “Yeah,” he said, “I do hear something.”
“So do I,” said Sam.
“Wait’ll it comes around again,” said Sarah.
The Zamboni made a wide turn, the ice glistening wet behind it, and headed back up-ice, drawing closer to the Screech Owls’ bench.
At first the sound was faint. But then, as the big ice-surfacing machine drew alongside the bench, the sound grew considerably louder.
Bang! Bang! … Bang! Bang! Bang! … Bang! Bang!
That familiar rhythm … It was Nish!
Sarah stood up, screaming at the Zamboni driver. “Stop! STOPPPPP!”
Sam was already over the boards.
“STOPPPPP!”