Free The Never War by D.J. MacHale Page B

about what was going on though. I glanced into his eyes and thought I caught a hint of sympathy. But not enough to call off his bulldog partner. The nasty guy held his pistol on me. It was an old-style revolver with a long barrel. It wasn’t high-tech, but I’m sure it could get the job done.
    â€œHow did you find us?” I asked while crawling backward.
    â€œWe got eyes everywhere,” said the nasty one, with a touch of cockiness. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
    â€œWhy are you after us?” I asked.
    â€œI got nothing against you,” Nasty said. “But my associate is another story.”
    His associate. Who was that? Saint Dane? I wanted to keep these guys talking. Maybe I could use my Traveler hypnosis on him. But that would be tough, seeing as I was too scared to think straight, let alone concentrate enough to use mind powers I wasn’t even sure I knew how to use in the first place.
    â€œYou have the wrong guy,” I said with desperation, though I knew he probably had the exact right guy.
    The gangster bent down and stuck the muzzle of the gun in my face. “Winn Farrow don’t make mistakes like that.”
    Winn Farrow. Who was Winn Farrow?
    More important, why did he want us killed? It was then that I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. It was Spader. He was behind the gangsters. I tried not to look at him because that would give him away.
    â€œI…I don’t know any Winn Farrow,” I said.
    Spader cautiously moved behind one of the sofas that was standing on end.
    â€œI’m not here to argue with you, sonny boy, I’m here to tell you how it’s gonna be. Don’t go sticking your nose where it don’t belong,” he said. “If somebody gets in Winn Farrow’s way, he won’t be there for long, if you catch my drift.”
    The sofa behind the gangsters started to move. Spader was going to topple it over on them. I had to use every ounce of willpower to keep the gangsters’ eyes on me.
    â€œOkay, I hear you. Can I ask you a question though?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œCan I have my ring back?”
    The question caught the gangsters off guard. They both looked at me as if I were nuts. Here they were putting onthis big strong-arm intimidation show, and all I cared about was my ring. It confused them. Good. It was the perfect time for Spader to make his move. But it didn’t exactly work out that way.
    Instead, the nasty gangster got this evil gleam in his eye and said, “The hell with orders. I’m gonna end this right here.”
    Uh-oh. He pulled the hammer back on his revolver. I willed Spader to hurry.
    He did.
    With a giant shove, the sofa came toppling over. The big couch first nailed the nervous guy, then continued down to take out Mr. Nasty. The gangsters didn’t know what hit them. I had barely enough time to roll out of the way before the two thugs hit the floor in a pile of gangster and sofa. I sprang to my feet and dove over the pile toward Spader.
    â€œWhat took you so long?” I shouted at him.
    â€œIt was heavy!”
    â€œC’mon!” I bolted out of the room with Spader right behind me. Those gangsters were going to be back on their feet in seconds, and I didn’t want to be anywhere close when that happened. We ran down the hall, turned right, and blasted for the elevators. I hit the button and looked to see that the needle pointed to “1.” Bad news. I looked over the second elevator. That needle pointed to “30.” Worse news. We were on 6. Not even close.
    â€œC’mon, c’mon!” I coaxed the elevators while furiously hitting the button…not that it would do any good.
    â€œWho’s Winn Farrow?” Spader asked. “Is it Saint Dane?”
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe,” I answered breathlessly. “But those guys were only supposed to give us a warning and they decided to kill us.”
    â€œYou