Spies in Saddles [Book One]

Chapter One: My Best Friend Wasn't Actually Joking All Those Times

But Molly hadn’t moved, her eyes jumping between the man and Mr. D with a strange expression on her face. “Actually,” she said slowly, “I think I need to stay for this part of the lesson – I’m a little confused as to what’s going on.”

Which was basically the biggest lie of all time, seeing as she was Molly.

“It’ll just be a second,” the man said with that smile still on his face as his eyes snapped to Molly’s seat as if just spotting her. I noticed that his hands moved in his pockets, as if his muscles were tensing.

“No.” Her voice was firm; the whole class was staring at her.

“They told me you would be difficult.” The smile had disappeared from the man’s face, his eyes darkening. “I guess I’ll just have to convince you.”

In a sudden movement, his hand whipped out of his pocket and the whole class gasped as one: He was now brandishing a gun, still completely calm as he pointed it at Molly. Mr. D tried to say something, but the man said, “Shut up,” in a quiet but dangerous voice, and my math teacher quickly closed his mouth. I clutched the edge of my desk with wide eyes; Kate had stopped jabbing her pencil into my back and her face was even paler than usual.

“Everyone keep quiet,” said the man, stifling the cries of the other girls, and we watched in terrified silence as he looked back at Molly. She still hadn’t moved, nor did she look scared.

“Okay, shoot me,” she said, as if he had asked what flavor ice cream she wanted. “I thought they would want me alive, but okay.”

I goggled at her. She had always joked about being shot during particularly difficult cross-country or track practices, but I had always figured she would pee her pants if she ever actually saw a gun.

The man did not look like he was joking. He stared at her for a long moment as the class held their breaths as one. I thought of the emergency call button in the back, way too far for me to reach in time, and hoped desperately that someone would walk past the window and look into the classroom. Sweat trickled down Mr. D’s face as he stood stock-still.

“Okay,” said the man evenly, lowering the gun. “Yeah, I won’t shoot you. So I guess we’ll just have to find out how many of these lovely girls are your friends.”

And all of a sudden the gun was a foot away from my face.

Immediately my heart leaped into my throat, pounding quickly as if it realized its beats were numbered. My palms left a smear of sweat across my math notes as I slowly raised them into the air, my eyes fixed on the barrel of that gun. Mr. D tried to speak again, only to be silenced, and everyone was staring at me in terror.

“Okay, okay!” Molly got to her feet at last, very slowly, her eyes darting between the man and me. “There’s no need for that, I’ll come.”

“I knew that’d get you,” he said with satisfaction, but he kept the gun leveled at my sweaty forehead until Molly got to the front of the room with her hands up. He then pointed it back at her, one hand in his pocket again as he approached her with a wary expression.

“What do you want?” Her voice was flat, her face still expressionless.

“Turn around.”

Molly hesitated but obeyed as the gun twitched in my direction again. I was still having trouble breathing, watching with frightened eyes as the man pulled something that shone silver in the light out of his pocket and stepped up behind her. He raised the gun and I couldn’t help crying out a warning as he swung it down, crashing into the back of her head.

Several girls screamed and Mr. D stepped forward in protest as Molly lurched forward from the blow. Quick as a wink, the man grabbed the back of her uniform polo, spinning her around to face him, and the handcuffed her wrists in front of her before she could react. She looked a little dazed and more than a little angry, glaring at the man as he smirked at her.