the door, and cautiously pulled out of the parking lot onto the street.
The short man moved up and down the aisle, silently watching the kids. He was younger than the other man, blond and muscular. His mean, lizardlike eyes constantly searched the faces of the cowering students. His gaze lingered warily for a moment on a big kid with dark hair in the back of the bus who seemed to be sleeping. Then the man moved on.
The driver coughed nervously and checked the mirror every few seconds to see if they were being followed.
The bus had been outside the city limits for almost an hour, heading northwest. Itwas still quiet. The men barely spoke to each other, and only an occasional tense whisper could be heard from the back of the bus.
The short blond man continued to pace back and forth. Miss Bently had recovered enough to speak quietly to him when he reached the front. “Why are you doing this? These children all have families and homes. They’ll be missed.”
“That’s what we’re counting on, Teach.”
“But the authorities will come after you. You can’t hope to get away with this.”
The man smiled and pulled something out of his pocket—a hand grenade. Miss Bently’s hand flew to her mouth. She drew a sharp breath, and there was a scream from somewhere in the back of the bus. All eyes were on the grenade.
Ripper savored the moment. “Somehow I don’t think they’ll bother us. We left word that if any cops try to come near us, we’ll blow this bus to kingdom come.” He tossed the grenade in the air a couple of times andthen slid it into his pocket. “You see, lady, you and your class are our hostages. You’re our special insurance to make sure my partner and me get what we want.”
“And what is that?”
“Don’t talk to the dress, Ripper.” Spoon glanced up into the mirror. “She don’t need to know nothin’.”
The blond man glared at him. “Shut up, Spoon. I’m running things and I’ll decide who I want to talk to.”
Spoon glared back but didn’t say anything. He waved one hand in disgust and then concentrated on his driving.
Ripper turned his attention back to Miss Bently. “This is how it’s going to work, Teach. I’m takin’ you and your class to a special place out in the desert. It’s so far out in the boondocks nobody could ever find us. After we get you settled, we’ll let the cops in on the rest of our plan.”
“Which is?” Miss Bently asked stiffly.
Ripper laughed a low, deep, satisfied laugh. “Simple. They bring us three million dollarsand an airplane, and we give them back their precious little kiddies.”
“What if they don’t?”
Ripper grabbed the teacher’s face and squeezed hard. “Then they don’t get any of you back—ever.”
C HAPTER 3
The bus gave a lunge and jerked to a stop on the side of the road. Black smoke boiled out from under the hood, and the air smelled like burning rubber. Spoon cursed, threw open the doors, and rushed outside to see what the problem was.
He raised the hood and more thick black smoke came rolling out. Then he raced back inside and whispered something in Ripper’s ear. Ripper quickly followed him down the steps.
“Now’s our chance.” Jeff Dodsen stood up and moved to the back exit of the bus.
Roman had been propped lazily in the corner of his seat as if the whole thing held absolutely no interest for him, but when he saw Jeff reach for the door he grabbed his arm.
Jeff jerked his arm away. “Hey! What are you doing, man? I think I can make it.”
Roman whispered, “The door has an alarm, stupid. You wouldn’t get ten feet.”
Jeff’s face flushed bright red. He sank into the seat across from Roman’s, almost squashing Woody the Worm. “Then what do you suggest, hotshot? Just sit here and let that idiot blow us all to bits?”
Mitch Tyson held a finger to his lips. Then he let his window down so that he could hear the conversation going on outside. “Check it out, guys,” he said in a low voice.