“Well, we’re scary strong,” Derek said. “Whoever gets the map holds it tight. The rest of us protect it.”
“Sounds like the right idea,” Roman said, striding toward the green and white trailer.
“We don’t want to hurt anybody,” Summer interjected.
“Not permanently,” Roman agreed. “But Racers who don’t want to get hurt shouldn’t mess with Tanks.”
They passed through the gate and walked up to the porch. Roman opened the screen and knocked.
“Go away,” a voice called from inside. “I don’t want to hurt a bunch of kids.”
“We don’t want to hurt a grown-up,” Roman called back. “We’re just here for the map. Open up or we’ll bust the door down.”
“Touch my door and you’ll wish you hadn’t,” the man replied. “Walk away.”
Roman kicked the door just below the handle. The wood splintered a little, but the door held. Roman kicked it again and the door tore open, ripping away part of the wall with it.
A grim Native American man stood beyond the door, a shiny sword held ready. Behind him was a comfortably furnished combined living room and dining room. Doors led away from the living area on both sides. “That door was reinforced,” he said.
“Not enough,” Roman replied, stepping inside. “Back off.”
“Last warning,” the man said, knuckles tight on his sword handle.
“Go for it,” Derek invited. “Or don’t. Either way, we’re taking the map.”
With a sigh, the man set the sword aside and quickly grabbed Roman. Squirming, Roman seized the man’s arm with both hands, twisted, and hurled him to the ground. Derek pounced, putting him in a headlock.
“Who are you?” the man growled in surprise, grasping at the headlock but unable to wrench it loose.
“We already told you,” Roman said. “We’re the guys taking your map. Just tell us where it is. We don’t want to tear up your house.”
Summer felt sick. She knew they were after the map to try to help John and Mozag, but invading this man’s home was wrong. He had set aside his sword because, regardless of his duty, he didn’t want to chop up a bunch of kids. She had no doubt that he was the noble guardian of a secret that needed to stay hidden. Seeing him on the floor in a chokehold made her want to kick Derek in the face.
“Ease up,” Summer demanded.
Derek looked at her like she was crazy. “Are you kidding? This guy is strong! I can barely hold him.”
“Do it!” the man cried, his voice hoarse because of the stranglehold.
A loud blast sounded from an unseen room, followed by a rumble that Summer could feel through the floor. She and the others all jumped. Then came the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being reloaded.
“Shoot us, stab us,” Roman said, “you can’t stop us.”
A second Native American man dashed into the room with a stun gun in one hand and a hinged club in the other. Wires launched from the stun gun and hit Roman. An instant later, Roman was flopping on the ground.
Ruth charged the man, who raised his padded club and swatted her. The blow glanced off the side of her head but did nothing to slow her as she tackled him to the floor.
Summer stood frozen. She didn’t want to join the fight. The Graywaters weren’t enemies. These were good people defending their home, trying to protect a dangerous secret.
Ruth straddled the man with the hinged club, sitting high on his chest, holding his wrists pinned beside his head. With the current no longer jolting him, Roman jerked the wires from his clothes.
“Are you all right?” Summer asked.
“I’m okay,” he replied, leaning over the man in the headlock. “That didn’t feel really great. Somebody tries something like that again, we start breaking bones.”
The man in the chokehold was red in the face. Tendons stood out in his neck. “You’re not children. You’re demons in disguise.”
Roman shrugged. “Whatever we are, you’d better cough up the map.”
An older woman shuffled into the room using a cane. “You want the guidestone? Take it! You’ll take it anyway.” She held up a smooth stone sphere between her thumb and forefinger.
Roman crossed to her. “A marble?”
“Do you know so little?” the woman replied. “It will lead you to the Protector.”
“Arrista, no!” the man in the chokehold protested.
“It’s for the best, William,” Arrista replied. “If we have lost the cover of our secrecy, we can no longer protect the map.”
Roman took out a drawstring bag and withdrew a pinch of Finder’s Dust. He let it fall, and the particles drifted away from the woman’s hand, toward a doorway opposite from where she had emerged.
“You think you can fool us?” Roman accused.
The woman gave an apologetic smile. “It was worth a try.”
The man Ruth straddled made a strangled sound. “Should we start really hurting them?” she asked with frightening casualness.
“Let’s start with the old lady,” Roman said.
Summer hoped he was bluffing. It was hard to tell.
“No,” William said, the word weighted with despair. “We’re defeated, I admit it. Don’t make them suffer for my failings. You have Finder’s Dust. It’s only a matter of time before you claim your prize. Release me and I’ll give you what you want.”
Roman picked up the sword, then nodded at Derek, who released William. Derek positioned himself near Arrista. William stood, rubbing his neck.
“Any tricks, you let them have it,” Roman told Derek and Ruth.
“What was with the big boom?” Derek asked.
“Warning shot,” Arrista said.
“Then where is the gun?” Roman asked.
“I’ll go check,” Summer said.
She walked past Arrista into a narrow hall with a small bedroom on either side. In one of the bedrooms, acrid smoke hung in the air. Shattered crystal fragments rested on the charred carpeting. A shotgun leaned against the wall.
“I think they destroyed something in here!” Summer called.
Roman trotted over to look. “Great,” he muttered. He turned and raised his voice. “Was that the map? Did you blow up the map?”
William gave a grim chuckle. “If we could destroy the map, our ancestors would have done so long ago.”
“Then what’s the mess in there?” Roman pressed.