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20 July
Manressa Convent, Redcliffe
6:21 am
I didn't think my feet could carry me away fast
enough down the driveway, through the gates and away from the big Manresa
property. I looked around the back yard for ideas. The minivan flashed into my
mind, but I couldn't possibly go back inside to retrieve the keys. Not now.
As if in answer to my prayers, standing
near the shed, the key still in the ignition, was an awesome,
custom-decorated motorcycle. Glossy blue, its streamline curves and
chrome-plated engine fittings, together with silver, curved knives
joining the wheels to the hub instead of spokes, created a gleaming
machine just asking to be ridden. This had to be Blue Streak, the
motorcycle belonging to Matt, the guy I'd helped in the garden
yesterday.
He was standing next to one of the cops,
who was looming over the body taking notes. They both had their backs to
me.
Boges and I had ridden trail bikes a few
times with another guy from school a couple of years ago, but I'd never
been on anything like this blue monster! I jumped onto the heavy bike,
bouncing into the saddle, one leg on the ground to steady myself. I made
sure my backpack was on tight, and I pulled the sleek black helmet that
hung from the handlebars over my head. I switched on the ignition,
jumped on the accelerator and kicked away the stand. I scooted my leg
along the ground, helping the bike move, while turning the throttle
under my hand. The powerful bike roared into acceleration, and I was
off, heading for the gates.
Before I had even reached the front year,
a gunshot rang out--a bullet whizzed past me! I hunched over the bike--I
couldn't believe it! The police were shooting at me!
How did they know who I was?
I wrenched the bike to the left, skidding
wildly as I aimed for the back of the shed, ducking under a line of
laundry on my way. Within seconds, voices were shouting, and people were
scrambling.
My chest was pounding as I turned the
bike around and peered out from behind the cover of the shed and through
the laundry. I scanned the whole area, searching for the shooter.
It was when my eyes were drawn up high
that I caught a glimpse of my sinister assailant.
It wasn't the police who had fired at me
. . . it was Bruno-Red Tank Top!
He was hunched over one of the bell tower
arches, the perfect 360-degree position for a sniper. A sniper with a
vengeance.
Now I was really scared.
Another shot ricocheted off an
incinerator and splintered through the shed wall, just inches from where
I was keeping watch. Didn't he realize the police were already here?
The shouting surrounding the convent had
intensified, and sirens were approaching. Sergeant McInerney must have
called for backup the second he heard the first shot ring out. I could
sense people stirring and preparing for an attack, but I couldn't take
my eyes off Bruno.
The once peaceful convent was now hosting
the cops, a dead body, Bruno--Sligo's top man--and the most
wanted juvenile in the state. I was in double danger--I had to dodge
Bruno and the police and somehow make a desperate rush on the
motorcycle, in full view, out the gates.
I had to break cover and go for it. There
was no other way. I couldn't wait for them to come and get me. I
silently walked the bike along to the edge of the shed closest to the
gate, a leg on each side of the engine housing. My plan was to kick the
accelerator, grit my teeth and fly behind the line of laundry, then
weave my way out.
Even with the police presence increasing
by the second, Bruno could still fire off the shot that would ensure I
never reached my sixteenth birthday.
7:01 am
Police were yelling through a loudspeaker
now, ordering Bruno to put down his weapon and aiming their pistols up
at the bell tower. If their attention stayed on him, maybe I would live
after all.
I pictured what I had to do--gunning the
bike and getting out of there through the gates! But then I saw
something I hadn't counted on. Two police officers, weapons drawn, had
positioned themselves on either side of the gates, on the dirt road.
I would have to ride straight past them.
There was no way I could do that without being seen. My brain raced
feverishly, trying to formulate an idea.
More gunshots rang out. I jumped back as
one bullet darted past my head, while a second bullet hit one of the
squad car windshields, shattering it. I heard a police vehicle screech
around the back of the convent, adding to the force already in place,
blocking Bruno's escape--and mine. I could feel the sweat breaking out
on my face as I switched on the ignition. Blue Streak roared into
action.
I released the brake and pushed away,
twisting the throttle full on. Blue Streak reared up and roared forward,
jerking me with it. I clung on, squeezing my knees hard against it,
keeping my balance as together we swerved fast towards the open gates.
The cops that were focused on the bell
tower spun around to see that was going on. They recklessly turned their
weapons to me and shouted at me to stop.
No way!
A shot from the bell tower fired down at
me, and the cops instantly turned their weapons back on Bruno. They
didn't know who to aim for!
Taking advantage of their confusion, I
gunned the throttle and hunched over , riding like a speedway champion.
I hurtled through the crossfire, through the gates, and along the dirt
road, blowing the weeds and dust up behind me.
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