It was accessible via a rope bridge, stretching
across a hundred-foot ravine. It shuddered as the man crossed before disappearing
behind the house.
‘Quickly!’ Scarlet said. ‘He’s getting away.’
‘I’m not sure,’ Jack said. ‘We’ll be sitting ducks on that bridge if he comes back.’
‘Why would he come back?’
With Scarlet leading, they started across the bridge, gripping the handrails as wooden
planks creaked underfoot. Jack felt queasy. There was something not quite right
about this whole journey. Where was the man going? Surely he didn’t live in the home
on the hill?
Reaching the halfway point, Jack began to breathe a little easier—until a figure
appeared on the other side from behind some rocks. It was the man! And he was holding
a machete.
‘Jack!’ Scarlet cried.
They started back. Jack pushed Scarlet in front of him as the man began hacking at
the ropes. One of the hand rails broke, then the second. Jack cried out as they dropped
away. He and Scarlet had to remain perfectly balanced or they would fall over the
side.
The wooden planks began quaking. Now he’s cutting away at the platform ropes , Jack
thought. Once he breaks them—
A sound like a whip cracking echoed across the ravine as the bridge tilted.
‘Keep going!’ Jack cried. ‘Keep—’
But he got no further as the final rope supporting the bridge broke.
CHAPTER NINE
The rope ladder slammed into the wall.
Smack!
Jack clung to the crossbar for dear life. Above him, Scarlet screamed again.
‘Jack!’ she said. ‘I can’t…’
She fell.
Jack threw out his arms and managed to grasp her as she tumbled past. ‘Grab one of
the crossbars,’ he grunted, clinging to her and the timber at the same time. ‘Quickly!’
Scarlet started climbing. Jack glanced down into the ravine. It was a hundred-foot
drop. They would be badly injured—or worse if they fell.
He steadily climbed after her and they were soon back on flat ground.
‘Oh my Lord,’ Scarlet said, collapsing. ‘My heart is still racing a mile a minute.’
‘I don’t think it’s over yet,’ Jack said, falling next to her. Moustache was nowhere
to be seen. ‘That man must have known all along he was being followed.’
‘Is there another way around?’
‘Probably. But let’s not wait to find out.’
Jack’s legs were still trembling as they followed the path back towards town. Within
minutes, they were among homes and shops. Jack found it hard to believe they had
faced death just a few minutes before. The sun was low in the sky now. Mr Doyle would
be pulling his hair out! And how many times had he told them not to do anything too
risky?
‘We need to get back to Alhambra,’ Scarlet said.
‘Yes,’ Jack agreed. ‘But let me buy something to eat first.’
‘You and your stomach!’
They ate Spanish omelettes in a café before boarding a train. There was no sign of
the man with his machete, but Jack remained vigilant as the train thundered down
the tracks. Scarlet thrummed her fingers impatiently on the windowsill.
‘I keep wondering what Brinkie would have done,’ she said. ‘Would she have continued
after Moustache, or would she have turned back?’
‘She wouldn’t have done either. She’s imaginary.’
Scarlet glared at him. ‘She’s as real as you and me,’ she said. ‘Almost.’
The train sped through the early evening and arrived back in Granada at eight o’clock.
Jack and Scarlet crossed the city on foot to get to Hotel Hermosa. ‘I can’t wait
to get to bed,’ Jack said. ‘I feel like we’ve been awake for a hundred hours.’
It had started to rain softly, making the streets slick with moisture. People in
a pub laughed and sang. The smell of hot food wafted through the air from an upstairs
kitchen. A couple kissed in a doorway.
By the time they reached the street where their hotel was, Jack felt ready to topple
over from exhaustion.
Passing a steamcar on the side of the road, a man stepped from the back seat
across a hundred-foot ravine. It shuddered as the man crossed before disappearing
behind the house.
‘Quickly!’ Scarlet said. ‘He’s getting away.’
‘I’m not sure,’ Jack said. ‘We’ll be sitting ducks on that bridge if he comes back.’
‘Why would he come back?’
With Scarlet leading, they started across the bridge, gripping the handrails as wooden
planks creaked underfoot. Jack felt queasy. There was something not quite right
about this whole journey. Where was the man going? Surely he didn’t live in the home
on the hill?
Reaching the halfway point, Jack began to breathe a little easier—until a figure
appeared on the other side from behind some rocks. It was the man! And he was holding
a machete.
‘Jack!’ Scarlet cried.
They started back. Jack pushed Scarlet in front of him as the man began hacking at
the ropes. One of the hand rails broke, then the second. Jack cried out as they dropped
away. He and Scarlet had to remain perfectly balanced or they would fall over the
side.
The wooden planks began quaking. Now he’s cutting away at the platform ropes , Jack
thought. Once he breaks them—
A sound like a whip cracking echoed across the ravine as the bridge tilted.
‘Keep going!’ Jack cried. ‘Keep—’
But he got no further as the final rope supporting the bridge broke.
CHAPTER NINE
The rope ladder slammed into the wall.
Smack!
Jack clung to the crossbar for dear life. Above him, Scarlet screamed again.
‘Jack!’ she said. ‘I can’t…’
She fell.
Jack threw out his arms and managed to grasp her as she tumbled past. ‘Grab one of
the crossbars,’ he grunted, clinging to her and the timber at the same time. ‘Quickly!’
Scarlet started climbing. Jack glanced down into the ravine. It was a hundred-foot
drop. They would be badly injured—or worse if they fell.
He steadily climbed after her and they were soon back on flat ground.
‘Oh my Lord,’ Scarlet said, collapsing. ‘My heart is still racing a mile a minute.’
‘I don’t think it’s over yet,’ Jack said, falling next to her. Moustache was nowhere
to be seen. ‘That man must have known all along he was being followed.’
‘Is there another way around?’
‘Probably. But let’s not wait to find out.’
Jack’s legs were still trembling as they followed the path back towards town. Within
minutes, they were among homes and shops. Jack found it hard to believe they had
faced death just a few minutes before. The sun was low in the sky now. Mr Doyle would
be pulling his hair out! And how many times had he told them not to do anything too
risky?
‘We need to get back to Alhambra,’ Scarlet said.
‘Yes,’ Jack agreed. ‘But let me buy something to eat first.’
‘You and your stomach!’
They ate Spanish omelettes in a café before boarding a train. There was no sign of
the man with his machete, but Jack remained vigilant as the train thundered down
the tracks. Scarlet thrummed her fingers impatiently on the windowsill.
‘I keep wondering what Brinkie would have done,’ she said. ‘Would she have continued
after Moustache, or would she have turned back?’
‘She wouldn’t have done either. She’s imaginary.’
Scarlet glared at him. ‘She’s as real as you and me,’ she said. ‘Almost.’
The train sped through the early evening and arrived back in Granada at eight o’clock.
Jack and Scarlet crossed the city on foot to get to Hotel Hermosa. ‘I can’t wait
to get to bed,’ Jack said. ‘I feel like we’ve been awake for a hundred hours.’
It had started to rain softly, making the streets slick with moisture. People in
a pub laughed and sang. The smell of hot food wafted through the air from an upstairs
kitchen. A couple kissed in a doorway.
By the time they reached the street where their hotel was, Jack felt ready to topple
over from exhaustion.
Passing a steamcar on the side of the road, a man stepped from the back seat
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