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Kate, Sticky and Constance stared at each other as the door swung shut behind Reynie. They were all quite eager to hear Mr. Benedict's speculations. Sticky opened his mouth to speak, but before he got even one word out, Constance uttered a sort of scream and clapped a hand over mouth, eyes bugged out.
"What is it?" Kate asked desperately, shooting to her feet.
Constance had begun to tremble violently. "They're here."
"Who's here?" Sticky rammed into Kate in his hurry to reach the door.
"Ten Men!" Constance whisper-shrieked. Perfectly on cue, there was a great yell of fury from somewhere above them, and much running of footsteps.
Kate's eyes were huge. Promptly locking the door and shoving a two-hundred pound bureau in front of it, she unclipped her bucket from her belt and sped to the window. Even through the lashing rain and wind, she could see the assembly of brief-case sporting business men on the other side of the iron fence.
Someone slammed roughly at their door, and the three young people snapped around, watching.
Constance tugged on Kate's arm. "There's no way out! There are Ten Men waiting in the hall and down below the window!"
A glint appeared in Kate's ocean blue eyes. "They'll expect us to flee away from them, right?" Smiling when the others nodded, she added, "Therefore, we'll flee toward them."
The ceiling was a tight fit; Constance kept berated Sticky in whispers that his knee was in her eye. Had they tried this a few years earlier, it might have been a success. Now, being full-fledged teenagers and older teenagers at that (in Kate and Sticky's case) they had to slither awkwardly through the panels, trying not bump anything. As they crawled, they heard Ten Men burst into the room they had just vacated.
"For the love of God…they're not here, sir!" More clattering; Sticky wrinkled his nose. It sounded as if someone was pulling the room to pieces.
"If they touch my encyclopedias," he muttered, then was quiet; Kate had accidentally socked him with her bucket.
Clicking her penlight and illuminating the dusty darkness, Kate turned to Sticky and Constance. "Well, it's now or never." And popping into a recess above them, she pushing gently on the board. I gave way above her. With bated breath, Sticky and Constance watched as she eased herself up and out—
SLAM.
Disoriented, Kate tumbled down, clutching a spectacularly bloodied nose. "Someone just stepped on my face," she gasped, scarlet drops appearing on her shirt. Sticky leaped back, horrified.
"Alright, duckies, playtime is over…" A man's voice spoke from somewhere above. "I believe I just had the pleasure of stepping on Miss Wetherall's nose."
"Eat my dust!" Kate shouted, and rammed the wood panel aside. She burst out of the darkness, with Sticky and Constance close behind. They gasped. A good seven Ten Men were crowded into Mr. Benedict's study. Of course, Mr. Benedict himself was nowhere to be seen. A man with a weak chin and scarred lip bared his teeth. The children hadn't seen him before. Behind him, the other Ten Men were smirking horribly. Constance recognized Mortis in the crowd, and glared.
In one single, well-choreographed movement, the Ten Men sprang forward, boxed Kate around the ears, pulled Sticky into a head-lock, and snatched Constance right of her feet. Ten seconds later, the room was quiet. Constance was out cold, Sticky had a gash running along his face, and Kate's ear were ringing. Kate, annoyed that she'd been pummeled so rudely, stamped on her captors toes, resulting in a howl, and shoved the Ten Man's own handkerchief into his face. He knocked over several of his comrades on his way to the floor.
In the ensuing chaos, Sticky slung Constance over his shoulder, and Kate shoved the door wide. "Run!" she shouted.
They tore down the stairs, and into the hall. There was an odd, furious fight unfolding before their eyes. Milligan was locked in combat with Crawlings, while Number Two had resourcefully snatched the extra pencil she kept behind her ear, and gouged her attacker. Moocho Brazos was sending Ten Men flying; senseless, they collapsed on the floor.
In the next instant, McCracken himself materialized, irate. "You imbeciles!" he roared, radiating fury. "You can't even beat a group of fools!"
Without warning, he shocked Number Two from behind, stuck his handkerchief under Moocho's nose and stepped nimbly aside, and yanked the rug from beneath Milligan. He toppled, trying to regain control. Too late. McCracken pinned Milligan with his well-polished shoe, and brutally shocked him.
"Well, chickies, I'd say that was a job well done, wouldn't you? But then-" He smiled nastily, "I don't care what you say, do I?"
Constance was stirring. She opened her eyes and glowered darkly at McCracken. "Oh. It's you."
"Yes," McCracken chuckled. "Now, if you'll be so kind as to follow me…" He made a show of whistling and cheerily shaking back his sleeves.
"Where is Mr. Benedict? Where are our parents? Where's Reynie?" Kate stuck out her jaw, furious. "Explain."
McCracken was shaking his head. "Another time, perhaps, my dears. In the meantime, your cells are waiting for you."
"Cells?" Constance wrinkled her nose. "As in jail cells?"
"Yes, dear heart, only much, much worse."
Well?
-Spark Writer-
