“Luc and I tried that,” Serge replied. “We shouted. I even waved my shirt. Nobody notices. They go by too fast.”
“Our one hope is the Navy Yard,” Matt insisted. “There are military people there, and a Marine base nearby. If anyone can derail Rob’s crazy plan, they’re the people to do it.”
He heaved against the wooden stick, thinking that Luc’s tie would never be the same again. With a final grating shriek, his two bars came together.
They’d done it! The bars had been bent apart enough that a kid — even a stocky kid like Serge — could squeeze between them. Matt pushed his way through, then swung himself around until he was hanging by his hands. He stretched out his feet, searching with his toes for a hold. There! Matt rested his weight on the questing foot. The roof tiles held. Balancing against the wall, he slid down until he was sitting astride the peak of the roof.
Matt looked up at the three worried faces peering down at him. “So far, so good,” he reported. “Send down the chair leg.”
Luc leaned out, extending one of the legs from the chair Matt had broken. It was an L-shaped piece of wood, with part of a bracing piece sticking out.
Matt knew the next part wouldn’t be easy. The steep roof slanted down for a good two stories. If he could worm his way down to the rain gutters at the edge of the roof, he should be able to leap the rest of the way to the ground. If he lost control and slid down, he’d probably crash and break his neck.
While he’d been working on the bars, Matt had noticed that there were gaps among the roof tiles. That was why he’d brought his crude wooden hook. If he began to slide, he’d jam the hook between tiles and catch himself.
Above him, Luc was already squeezing his way out. Cat would follow, then Serge. Matt let himself down so he lay on top of the sun-warmed tiles, trying to spread his weight as widely as possible.
“Here goes,” he whispered, letting go his hold of the rooftree.
The angle was too steep! He began to slide down the roof tiles, faster and faster! He was out of control, and heading straight toward certain death!
Chapter 19
Once or twice, Matt had gone on virtual mountaineering adventures. He’d learned a technique called the glissade, where mountain climbers slide down icy glaciers using their ice axes to brake their descent. Matt had thought he could use the same technique if he got in trouble on the church roof.
Now he was finding that there was a difference between ice and roofing tile, especially when he only had a piece of shattered wood to slow himself up.
His trusty chair leg cracked and splintered as he tried to dig it in and stop his fall. When he finally caught it in a crack, it nearly jerked right out of his hands. He held on desperately, and stopped — until the tile tore loose and he was tumbling again.
He was moving a little more slowly, but the edge of the roof was coming up fast. Matt was doing his best to keep his head. With luck, he might be able to catch himself on the rain gutter at the edge.
But when he got there, the gutter was gone! Somebody must have torn it away to sell the copper sheeting.
Matt had one last chance. This part of the roof seemed to give under his weight. He thrust down as hard as he could with his stick. The roofing gave a bit, until — finally — the wooden stick in his hands bit through. He stopped just in time — his legs were dangling over the edge.
“L-looks like one heck of a ride,” Cat Corrigan called from her place on the top of the roof.
Matt made violent shushing gestures. From his dangerous perch, he could see that the Buzzards had posted guards around the church. The one on this side was the Asian kid. What was his name? Ng.
It was not exactly like watching a military sentinel. Ng sort of slouched along the street with Willy’s pistol stuck in his belt.
But Ng could pull out that gun and use it if he heard the prisoners calling to one another.
At least the others took his hint. Their heads went together, and they came up with a pretty good plan. They formed a human ladder. Serge held on at the top while Luc worked his way down until he was holding onto Serge’s ankles. Then it was Caitlin’s turn. She slid down, clutching at the others to keep from going too fast.
She still had to let go of Luc’s feet and slide free the last six feet or so, but Matt had braced himself to catch her.
Even so, they almost went over together. Cat dangled for a heart-stopping minute. But she quickly transferred her grip to the stick dug into the roof instead of Matt’s arm.
“Phwooooh!” she breathed long and hard. Then she spotted Ng patrolling below. “Now I see why you wanted us to shut up,” Cat whispered.
Matt nodded.
The girl glanced uneasily from the guard to their two companions stretched across the roof. “They can’t hold on up there forever,” she whispered. Then she nodded toward the wooden hook. “And I don’t know how long this will hold, either.”
This time Matt didn’t answer. He was busy watching Ng slouch along on his return march.
When the guard was under them, Matt released his hold.
Maybe he should have warned Caitlin. She gave a sort of strangled cry, which made Ng look up. The Asian boy’s eyes went big, and he tried to haul the pistol from his waistband.
Then Matt landed on him. They both tumbled to the ground, but Matt was on top. This time, Ng didn’t have a hostage to hold Matt frozen. Matt applied a quick but painful hold, and the gun dropped from Ng’s nerveless fingers.
Then Ng yelled at the top of his lungs.
Matt swore to himself. He knew he should have gone for a knockout blow, but he’d been too worried about that gun. Now he didn’t worry about finesse. He hit, hard, and Ng flopped back, silent.
“Move! Fast!” Matt hissed, looking up at the two pairs of legs dangling over the edge of the roof. Caitlin dropped down, and Matt caught her. Luc’s legs waved wildly, and then another pair appeared. Serge had made it.
They both dropped together, just as a Buzzard guard came around the corner — Matt’s old pal Willy.
“Yo, Ng, what’s the big problem?”
The blond boy stared in astonishment at the escaping prisoners. His mouth opened to yell a warning as his right hand tore under his shirt to get his gun.
Serge snatched Ng’s pistol from the ground.
The sound of the two shots seemed to blend together. Willy screamed and spun, his left hand clamping to his shoulder. Serge charged forward.
“Serge, you idiot, you’re heading the wrong way!” Luc called. He, Matt, and Caitlin were already pounding down the street to the east.
Scooping up Willy’s gun, Serge shouted back, “I go to the road!”
There was no time to argue. The sound of the shots would definitely bring the Buzzards out of their staging area.
Matt risked a glimpse back as he and his companions reached the nearest street corner. Gang members came boiling out of the abandoned church like ants from a disturbed anthill.
Then the gunfire began by the church entrance.
“Guess somebody spotted Serge,” Luc said.
But a loud, growling voice rose over the scattered shots. Matt recognized it. James was giving orders to his troops. “Where are the others?” the gang warlord yelled. “Find ’em! Find ’em now!”
Matt whipped around the corner, herding the others in front of him. “Come on,” he said. “They’re going to have search parties out in a minute.”
“We won’t even make it down this street before they get around the corner,” Caitlin said.
“So we hide.” Matt scanned the rows of houses opposite them and chose one at random. It still had a door rather than a plywood barrier or a rough wall of cinder block across the entrance. He was afraid it might be locked, but there was neither a lock nor a doorknob. They’d been chopped out of the wooden panel, which simply swung in when he hit it with his palm.