The Carnival of Lost Souls : A Handcuff Kid Novel by Laura Quimby Page B

animal. He heard it again. Something was out there, following him. In a rush of panic, Jack broke through the trees and ran, pushing the branches aside, swimmingthrough the deep darkness. Shadows raced through the trees alongside him. Jack jumped off the road and into the bushes to hide.
    Running like a scared rat was futile. All he could do was try to defend himself by outsmarting the creature. He pulled his duffel around and reached inside for something to use as a weapon. Pulling a pair of handcuffs out of the bag, he held the two cuffs together, letting the steel rest on the outside of his fist like makeshift brass knuckles. He took a few deep breaths before taking off again, darting from one safe clump of trees to the next, glancing over his shoulder to see if the creature was following him.
    Jack listened, his back pressed stone-still against a tree. Footsteps pounded the ground behind him. He burrowed down behind the tree and peered back. The beast was coming, parting the early mist with his hulking body. Jack’s heart raced. A huge dark form strode through the underbrush right toward him. All Jack could make out in the low light were two huge horns spiraling out of the beast’s enormous bull-shaped head. A Death Wrangler!
    He had to do something. He only had a minute or two until the Death Wrangler reached him, and if he ran, the Death Wrangler would see him instantly. Hiding wasn’t an option anymore. The massive bull didn’t look like the type to go out for a leisurely morning stroll. He was on a mission, and that mission was to bring Jackback. Just like the German shepherds, he was hunting Jack down.
    Jack had to think fast. He felt the handcuffs in his hands, and then he got an idea. If he was quick enough it just might work.
    He waited for the hulking half-man, half-bull to get closer and closer. The ground shook. Jack waited one more second. Then, he sprang, closing the handcuffs around one massive wrist. The choking hand of the Death Wrangler wrapped around Jack’s throat, lifting him off his feet. Jack thrust all of his weight to one side, sending the beast spinning off balance. They both fell against a tree, and Jack spun him around, forcing the Death Wrangler’s back against the tree. He pulled his other hand around until both wrists touched, handcuffing the enormous beast to the tree.
    He did it. Jack trapped the Death Wrangler. He slumped to the ground and heaved a sigh of relief.
    Hoots of laughter filled the air. Not exactly what Jack was expecting from a mythological tyrant.
    “Ha-ha! He got you, Boxer!” T-Ray came running out of the trees and grabbed the mask off of the large creature handcuffed to the tree, exposing an exasperated and sweaty boy. Jack hadn’t captured a Death Wrangler at all. The creature stalking him was just Boxer in disguise. T-Ray held up an enormous papier-mâché head of a bull in his hands.
    “What’s going on?” Jack asked.
    Jabber and Runt appeared from behind the trees.
    “We knew that you would try and run away on your first night. Everyone does,” Jabber said.
    “Yes. We all tried to run on our first nights here. Now it’s really fun when someone new comes. We followed you,” T-Ray said.
    “I thought you’d never go. You kept us up all night waiting,” Runt said, yawning.
    “What are you talking about, Runt? You were asleep the minute your head hit the hammock,” Boxer said.
    Runt scowled. “I was just
pretending
to be asleep.”
    “Your snoring was very convincing,” T-Ray said.
    “I don’t snore. I just breathe heavy.” Runt crossed his skinny arms over his chest.
    Jack bent over and unlocked the handcuffs, reaching out his hand and helping Boxer to his feet. “Sorry about that, Boxer. I thought you were—well, you know.”
    “No hard feelings.” Boxer rubbed his wrists.
    “You’re lucky it was just us and not one of the real Death Wranglers,” Jabber said. “Think of this as a lesson. Next time we let them take you.”
    “What do you