Truehearts & The Escape From Pirate Moon by Jake Macklem (ebook audio reader TXT) 📕

and peeked around the dumpster toward the sound. Glitter stood, tears streaming down her cheeks, her shirt lifted, exposing her chest, her lips wrapped around the barrel of the gun in her mouth.

Glitter never was real bright.

Young Ace looked around the alley until she found a slightly bent two-foot pipe. Setting her backpack down, she picked up the pipe, gripped it tightly, and said, “Just like Mick does it.” Calmly, with steady steps, the eleven-year-old Ace rounded the dumpster and strode directly toward the man with the gun, careful not to let her approach disturb him.

“You want to keep sucking on my gun—or something else?” The creep asked. He turned toward the whistling sound in time to see the pipe slam into his elbow with a hollow, metallic chime. He dropped the gun and screamed. He looked at the young girl, gasping in pain and surprise as she jabbed the end of the pipe into his knee cap. Falling to the ground, he started dragging himself away. “Stay away from me, you little psycho!” The man whimpered as he pulled himself through the muck of the alley. Ace lifted the pipe, ready to slam it down on the creep’s head.

“Ace, stop!” Mick’s voice reverberated through the alley. She turned to look at him, still holding the pipe overhead.

Glitter shuffled behind Mick and looked around his massive arm.

“You okay, Glitter?” he said.

She nodded, wiping the black streaks of mascara on her face. “See Ace, Glitter is fine. You saved her. Put the pipe down.”

The creep blinked up at her as she slowly lowered the pipe. She scowled at him and said, “He wasn’t being nice, Mick.”

“I know, kid. I’ll have a chat with him about that. But you should take Glitter in and get her something to drink. Help her calm down, okay?” Mick’s voice was soothing. Nodding, Ace turned and started toward the club. Mick walked toward her, reaching out his hand. Ace gave him the pipe. “You did real good kid.”

“Are you crazy! That little bitch broke my arm!” The creep shouted.

Mick’s face tightened, his dark eyes fell on the creep, the shadows deepened. In the same calm voice, he said, “Get Ace inside so I can deal with this.”

Ace nodded and glanced at the creep one last time. Maybe it was the pity or the sadness in her eyes, but the color drained from his face. Taking Glitter’s hand, the two started into the club as Mick started toward the creep.

“Look, I’m sorry! Please, don’t! Please!”

&

Ace opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. The merciless sun was directly overhead, piercing through the veil of woven grass that Cam had prepared as a tent-like cover. The heat threatened to melt her skin. The shade under the makeshift tent was the only reason she was not on fire. Looking over toward Cam, she saw that he still slept, his hat tilted to cover his eyes, rivulets of sweat dripping down his face and neck. Scanning the area around the raft, she saw nothing had changed during the day. The mountains were still far away and the raft was being pulled along by the current. Looking at the heavy yellow and red clouds and feeling the wet air cling to her body, she knew it was going to rain again, soon.

They had been drifting for days, pulling off onto little mountain top islands when they could for rest, but they had not been able to for the last two evenings. No mountain top islands. Looking over the edge of the raft, she could not see the bottom. The spear doesn’t reach the bottom anymore. There’s just so much water. I wonder if the Warthog is still there or if it was washed away. The hut is probably gone. Ace looked at Shaw. He’s the only reason I’m alive right now. He’s a good man. Mick will like him—think he’s a sucker, but like him. Shifting herself to a sitting position, Ace drank some clean water from her canteen and let her eyes drift. They settled on the far horizon behind them, where a hazy cloud hovered over the water. Ace’s eyes narrowed. Is that a storm?

  15: Cam

Cam lifted the front of his hat as Ace crawl across the raft to his pack. She pulled it open, exposing the large stash of precious metal in the main pouch “Hey, what are you doing!” Cam sat up. “That’s mine!”

“I know they’re yours. I’m just going to use them.” She grabbed the binoculars and looked northwest.

“Oh.” She doesn’t seem to care about the platinum and gold. “That’s the wrong way if you’re looking for land.” He smiled at his own wit, but when Ace did not respond he shifted and eyeballed the direction she was studying. The horizon was hazy, but it looked as if the clouds were coming from the water, not the sky. “What is that?”

“I don’t get it.” She handed him the binoculars.

Peering through the lenses, Cam watched the water roil, fog billowing in a swirling mass over the surface. It’s like the mist from a waterfall. He had never seen anything like it, and as he lowered the binoculars he said, “Huh.”

“What is it?”

“It looks like some sort of big wave of steam.” As the words settled over him, he remembered the huge channels carved in the mountain ridge. Bringing the binoculars up, he checked the mountains, the water was halfway up the erosion zone, churning and crashing against the stone. That puts the plain bottom one hundred and fifty meters below us. Turning to the wave, he realized it was getting closer very quickly. Already the waters beneath them were tossing their humble raft. “Oh damn,” he said.

“Colorful vernaculars?” Concern creased Ace’s face and she asked, “What is it, Shaw?”

“I think I just figured out what makes this moon