EXTREME DANGER
by
PiperMerlyn
Chapter 10
The Chapters
Frank
I woke up earlier than I intended the next morning, my brain already in high gear. Ollie Peterson was dead, and two people were injured. Obviously the person responsible wasn’t going to let murder stop him in whatever he was planning. And then there was GR SK8R. He sounded like a twisted piece of work who might even be playing us all for fools.
Joe was still sound asleep, so I got dressed and left the room. I was hoping there would be a computer ready to use especially this early in the morning. I found one in the back of the room, in a corner where no one could easily see the screen.
I figured the official chat rooms would be buzzing. The games started later today. I logged in and found tons of conversations, well wishes and what not. I tried not to read the posts, and scanned through the long list looking for screen names. I found 4567TME twice. The first time he warned that the danger to athletes was much worse now; the second time, he said that no one was safe.
They were pretty vague, not giving anything away. I wasn’t sure if he was really just warning athletes or threatening them. I found only one from GR SK8R: You won’t go out with a whimper...but a bang. A time to kill...A time to rend...A time to die.
I definitely didn’t like the sound of that. I debated on whether or not to actually try and hack into the competition’s data base but the fact remained that this might not be an athlete. Whoever it was could be just a disgruntled fan or something.
Voices out in the lobby alerted me to several groups of athletes and fans milling around, sharing stories, wishing good luck. I stared at the athletes in their baggy shorts and rock T-shirts. Some wore leather, others wore camo. I looked down at my jeans and polo and a thought snaked through my brain. It was a crazy thought, Joe would love it, and it just might work.
I logged off, taking only the time to see when GR SK8R had posted – at five this morning – and headed back upstairs. I hurried into the room to find Joe completely under his covers. I yanked off the bedspread and blanket. “Up and at ‘em. Come on, Joe, wake up.”
“I’m up, I’m up,” Joe mumbled as he sat up, eyes still closed. “Where’s the bad guy?”
I shook my head. “Joe, open your eyes.”
He opened them a bit and shut them again. “Too bright, I’ll melt.” He scrabbled for his covers but I grabbed them from him.
“Oh no you don’t.”
“Hey!”
Obviously, I had to try stronger tactics. “Jenna’s at the door.”
His eyes popped open and he hopped out of bed. He stared down at the shorts and T-shirt he’d slept in, and spun around three times looking for his duffle bag. I wanted to laugh so bad. “Joe, I was just kidding. But this is important.”
He blinked. “Jenna’s not at the door?”
“Joe, the games start today. We have two injured athletes and one dead former skateboard star.”
He sat down on his messed up bed with a sigh. “Okay, okay.” He looked over at me. “Why are you up so early?”
“I was checking the chat rooms. There were some vague warnings from 4567TME and one nasty post from GR SK8R, something about not going out with a whimper but a bang. It also said ‘a time to kill, a time to rend, a time to die’.”
Joe stared at me, stunned. “Bang? As in bomb?”
“I don’t know. But I have a plan.”
Joe groaned. “What stupid stunt do I have to pull this time?”
I glanced over at his skateboard and shrugged. “Well, it would get us up close and personal. You’ll love it.”
“I hate your plans. I—” He looked over at the skateboard. “Wait...are you saying?” He shook his head. “We promised Mom we’d just watch from the sidelines.”
“And we will, but it wouldn’t hurt to look the part.”
Joe got to his feet, rummaged through his duffle. “Frank, I didn’t exactly bring gear for skateboarding like the pros do. Not the top of the line shoes or anything.”
“So we go shopping, so we can look the part.”
“What about the press passes?”
“We use them if we have to. I’d rather fake out everyone, make them think we’re with the athletes.” I settled on the bed. “Think about it, we’ve been one step behind this guy or girl. If we dress the part, then maybe we’ll find something.”
Joe shot me a glare. “It’s definitely not Jenna.”
“Didn’t say it was. I’m just making an equal opportunity suspect list.” I looked over at him. “Well?”
“So...we’re kind of trying to make ourselves bait, is that it?”
“My version sounded better.”
Joe sighed and rolled his eyes. “Well, the games will start in a couple of hours. We’d have to work fast.”
“Well, the hotel’s offering a continental breakfast downstairs. We can ask Jenna.”
“You wait till now to tell me there’s free food?” Joe grabbed some clothes and ran into the bathroom. Not five minutes later, he was dressed and pulling his shoes on. “Ready.”
Even his hair was combed. I grinned. “Come on, little bro.” We headed back downstairs and Joe immediately went in search of food. I went looking for a halfway clear spot so we could sit down to eat. I found a couple of empty chairs, a low coffee table scattered with old magazines and the morning’s paper. There was a front-page article about Ollie’s death. I claimed one chair and started to read.
The police had announced that there had been poison in Ollie’s coffee. A shadow fell over me and I looked up. It was Jenna. She gestured to the paper with her juice glass. “It’s so twisted. I mean, the guy was totally obnoxious but he didn’t deserve to be killed.”
I pointed to the chair next to me. “Joe’s going to get food. Have a seat.”
Joe returned with a big tray in his hands – and a big smile on his face. “Jenna, hey. Ready for the games?”
“You kidding? I’m ready to win,” said Jenna. “The women’s freestyle event is this afternoon.”
Joe sat down on the edge of the coffee table and set the tray beside him. “You know, there’s some serious stuff going on. I’m worried about you.”
“Well, I can’t quit now,” she said. “I’ve trained too long and too hard. And besides, I like taking risks. The day before yesterday, I gave my room number to some strange boy in the lobby.”
Joe looked shocked. “What strange boy? Who is he?”
“She’s talking about you, Einstein,” I muttered without looking up from my newspaper.
A bagel flew over the top of the newspaper and I had to drop the paper to catch it. “Hey!”
Joe just smirked at me. He glanced at Jenna. “Hey, I’ve been noticing everyone seems to be wearing camo, leather, stuff like that.” He looked down pointedly at the dark red T-shirt and blue jeans. “We kind of stand out.”
Jenna leaned closer to him and winked. “I like it.”
“We were wondering where we could get some stuff to wear like the athletes,” said Joe, grinning back at her. “You know, so we’d fit in better.”
She looked at him for a long moment. “Why do I have the feeling there’s more to that?” She shook her head and sighed, finishing off her fruit plate. “Try Hollyweird, it’s over on Tenth Street. It might be just what you’re looking for.” She drained her glass of juice and got to her feet. “See you later.”
“Good luck,” called Joe as she disappeared into the crowd. He turned to me. “That work?”
I grunted. “Hollyweird. Why do I have this feeling the emphasis will be on weird.”
“Hey, this was your idea.” Joe glanced at his watch. “We have about an hour and a half before the games. Let’s go.”
We finished our breakfasts and headed down to the parking garage to get our motorcycles. I programmed the GPS to locate Tenth and we were there in a matter of minutes. At first we thought we were lost; most of the shops were more souvenirs and tourist traps.
Joe pointed to his right and I spotted what looked like a vintage clothing store. There were two mannequins in the one large window – one in a wedding dress with a hunting vest, the other in a skin-diving suit and a purple wig. Maybe Joe was right, maybe this was a stupid plan.
Joe headed over there and with a sigh I followed him. A little bell tinkled as we entered the dim store. Two girls looked up and stared at us. They were sitting in old beauty parlor chairs, reading magazines – and they looked as bizarre as the mannequins in the window.
“Can I help you guys?” asked the tall one. Her hair was bright neon blue and spiky, making me think of a porcupine. Her faded jeans were literally held together with safety pins. “I’m Holly.”
“And I’m Weird,” said the other one. Her face was pale, almost ghostly white, but everything else – hair, lips, long dress – was completely black. My first thought was that she was a vampire.
Joe smiled at Holly. “We need to fit in with the fans and athletes for the Big Air Games.” He looked down at his clothes almost disgustedly. “We need a change.”
Holly arched one dark, pencil-thin eyebrow and I saw three small rings piercing the end of the eyebrow. As she moved closer, I saw a small stud in her nose and one ear sported about ten small hoops while the other had one single dangle earring that ended in a small skull. “I think we can help you with that.” She glanced over her shoulder and grinned at Weird.
I turned to look and saw Weird smiling at me. I almost looked for fangs. I took a deep breath, wondering if I’d made a mistake here. “I don’t know. I’m not sure if I want to go too extreme.”
Weird’s smile widened and her teeth were even, not a fang in sight. “Trust me.”
Somehow I wasn’t sure that was a good idea but I had come up with this plan. “All right.”
We endured several clothes changes until the girls finally settled on what they considered perfect. Joe ended up in a black punk-rock concert shirt with the sleeves cut off, oversized army shorts and a cool racing jacket. Worn, scuffed combat boots completed his outfit.
My outfit was blue camouflage pants, black motorcycle boots, a tie-dyed tank top and a leather jacket. Not too bad. I kind of liked the boots. And definitely the jacket.
“We approve,” said Holly, standing back to admire her work. “You guys look fierce.”
Weird looked us over. “Except for the preppy hair. You know what you need?” she asked, holding up an electric hair trimmer. “Mohawks!”
I held up both hands. “Oh no.” Some instinct made me turn to Joe. “You wouldn’t.” I grabbed him and dragged him off a ways. “Mom will kill us. We couldn’t explain our way out of it.”
His face fell and he sighed. He walked back to the girls. “I’d rather the spike look, like you have. Maybe tipped in Day-Glo orange or something.”
Holly gave him a grin. “Sounds cool to me.”
Weird gave me a look and I shook my head. “I’ll go with the spike look too.”
“Not orange.” She set the electric hair trimmer down, looking disappointed. “Blue to match your pants.”
I sighed. “Okay.”
Twenty minutes later, the girls were finished. Our hair was spiked, really stiff to the touch. I don’t know what they used but I doubted my hair would ever be the same. I glanced at Joe and then remembered our helmets. “What about helmets?”
“The spikes are crush-proof,” said Weird with a wicked grin.
Joe slapped my shoulder. “We don’t have much time.”
I nodded and paid the girls for the clothes and makeover. “Thanks.”
Weird smiled at me. “We haven’t had this much fun since Halloween.”
I’ll bet, I thought as we headed out. It was time to make this work.
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.