Occasionally a kid would protest from down in the manhole. The men up top would growl at him or her to drop. Cole heard several echoing screams trail off ominously.
These criminals were kidnapping dozens of people. They were taking Dalton. They were taking Jenna. He had to do something.
But he had to be smart. If he emerged now, he would get caught. Once they were gone, he could probably climb the stairs, break down the door, and go to the police. Would it be too late? Would the cops be able to follow the kidnappers through the sewers? If alerted quickly, would the authorities be able to guess where these men might be headed? What about Boo? Had he already left with the other spook alley workers? Or would they all be there, waiting for him?
Cole wished he had a cell phone. His parents had decided he was too young to need one. If they could see him now, he suspected they might rethink their policy.
He lay with his chin on the cement floor. The heavy drapes were making him sweat. His heart thudded in his chest.
Cole peeked again. Now that the kids understood the drill, the procession into the manhole was going fast.
He closed his peephole. Nobody was looking his way. Nobody was talking about a kid gone missing. One of the men was gathering up bones, but nobody was gathering curtains.
How could somebody kidnap this many people? It should be national news! There had to be more than forty kids. The whole town would be in an uproar! The whole country would demand answers!
Raising the edge of the curtain, Cole watched as the last kids descended into the hole. Jenna was among them. Dalton was already gone. Cole had missed it. Some of the men had gone down as well.
The man in the wide-brimmed hat checked an old-fashioned pocket watch. “The way will close in less than ten minutes.”
“Excellent timing, Ansel,” the woman said. “This was a good plan.”
“Think we found what we were looking for?” Ansel asked.
“Impossible to tell on this side,” the woman replied. “But it’s a large sample. I expect we have what we need. It should add up to quite a take.”
“It’s too early to count money,” Ansel said. “Slaves captured are not slaves delivered. We sank most of our funds into this operation. I’ll celebrate when the cargo has been sold.”
Men tossed bones down the manhole. Cole did not hear them landing. Lastly, the redhead and a scarred man with long blond hair lowered the great skull down the hole, disappearing with it.
Soon only Ansel and the woman remained. Ansel’s eyes swept the room. Cole felt the urge to lower the edge of the curtain, but he realized that a hasty movement might draw the eye. He held still, trusting that his face was tucked far enough back into the shadows to escape observation.
“Are we finished?” the woman asked.
Ansel checked his pocket watch. “Just over six minutes left.” He gazed around the room again. “Doesn’t matter how we leave the place. Nobody can follow us. We’re done here.”
She climbed down the manhole, and he followed. “Do we cover it?” her voice asked from out of sight.
“No need.”
Cole waited. The room became silent. Were they really gone? Seemed like it. What would change in six minutes? Were they bombing the sewer tunnel? Closing it off somehow? Were they really going to sell all those kids into slavery?
In a far corner of the room a little girl crawled out from under a heap of curtains. She was small and skinny, with wavy auburn hair and freckles. She was dressed as an angel. Her wings had crumpled, and her tinsel halo was askew.
The girl looked around furtively. She approached the manhole cautiously and peered down. Then she turned for the stairs.
“Hey,” Cole called.
The girl whirled and jumped, her face contorting with fear. Cole came out from under his curtains. She stared at him in shock and wonder, as if he must be a mirage. “You hid too?” she asked.
“By accident,” Cole said. “I got lucky.”
“I was part of a big group,” the girl explained. “I ran for the corner and hid behind the curtains. Nobody noticed me. When the curtains came down, they covered me. I watched three groups get nabbed after I came here. You were with the last group.”
“Right,” Cole said.
“I wanted to warn you guys, but it was too late. They would have gotten me too.”
“Once we came down the stairs, we were doomed,” Cole said. “My friend heard them lock the door. He had a bad feeling about it, but I ignored him. And now . . .” He gestured at the hole.