The shed was suddenly silent. I heard footsteps coming closer. “Who’s there?” a voice barked, so close it felt like he was on top of me. I scuttled around the snowmobile, keeping it between me and the voice.
Someone else said, “It’s just Brick.”
“That you, Brick?” the voice said. I prayed Brick was still asleep.
“Dumbass is probably planning to jump out and scare us.” The same voice continued, yelling now. “It don’t work like that, Brick. It’s not scary when you hide and jump out-only when we all do it to you.”
Everything paused for a second, as if they were expecting a response. I held my breath and scrunched as tightly into the darkness as I could.
“Back to work,” Ace yelled. “I want to make Anamosa, deliver this meat to Danny, and get back while there’s still daylight.”
“But Brick oughta be helping-”
“You can deal with him after I’m on the road. Now finish loading, or I’ll be bringing Danny more carcasses than I promised.” I heard a door slam-Ace getting into the truck, maybe.
I heard footsteps moving away from my hiding place, and the general racket resumed. I slowly let out the breath I’d been holding. My hands were trembling; I closed my eyes briefly and tried to relax my muscles.
I was still at least twenty feet from the back of the truck and even farther from the shed’s doors-plus the open area between me and the truck was close to the fire and well-illuminated. I’d never make it across without being seen. I needed some kind of distraction.
I wormed toward one of the workbenches against the shed wall, being careful to keep the snowmobile between me and the Peckerwoods. I reached up with one arm and blindly groped around the surface of the workbench. I felt something cylindrical and grabbed it.
It was a heavy flathead screwdriver. That would work. I crawled back to my hiding place alongside the snowmobile. Ready as I’ll ever be, I thought.
I reached over the snowmobile and hurled the screwdriver at the opposite wall of the shed. It clanged against the metal wall so loudly that the sound reverberated through the building. I peeked over the top of the snowmobile. Everyone was looking in the direction of the noise, and about half of them were moving that way. Now or never. I thrust myself upright and ran behind them, moving fast but running on my toes, trying to keep my boots from making too much noise.
I reached the back end of the truck and ran alongside it, so it was between me and the gang investigating the noise at the other side of the shed. The cab of the truck was sitting just inside the open doors of the maintenance shed. A beautiful rectangle of light beckoned: freedom. I ran for it, sprinting alongside the truck.
Just then, a leather-jacketed arm pushed the cab door open, blocking my escape.