saying he was totally unconscious, and he may have been dead. I don’t know.
While I’d been watching this frightening sight Homer was already out of his hiding place and gathering the wire. He wasn’t even looking at the rider. I was annoyed with myself that Homer was doing the work while I was being a tourist. Lucky I didn’t have a camera; I’d probably have been taking photos.
So I ran to help. We had to get the wire out of the way so they would find no reason for the crash. We wanted it to be a mysterious, inexplicable accident.
The wire was in two parts. The impact had snapped it. Already I could hear the other bikes coming back. All of this had taken only five or ten seconds. The previous three bikes had just got around the bend when we tripped the last guy, so it was taking them no time to return.
‘Come on,’ I said to Homer. I was badly scared. We had almost a hundred metres to get into safe cover. We wanted to be down a driveway and into the next block before anyone started looking.
Homer took off and I followed, trailing about ten metres of cable and trying to roll it up as I went. It caught in something behind me and nearly ripped my hand off again. I pulled fiercely, determined to make it come free, determined that the sheer strength of my willpower would get it free. No way in the world was I going to go back and get it.
Unfortunately my willpower wasn’t enough. The bloody thing wouldn’t move.
Like it or not, I had to do something. I started charging towards it, then saw, even in the darkness, that it had caught around a tap. I yanked it from a different direction and felt it come loose at last.
I turned and followed Homer again, reeling the wire in as I ran. He was as good as out of sight, down the end of the driveway, getting ready to climb the fence. He didn’t seem worried about me. Maybe he thought I was right behind him. Maybe he didn’t think about me at all. I went at that fence as though I was at the school sports day and running the last leg in the relay. A beam of light came down the driveway, lighting my legs. I understood that it was one of the headlights, either searching the driveway or a bike turning round and accidentally lighting the place up. Whichever, I felt totally exposed. I didn’t know whether to stop, so that my movement didn’t attract their attention, or to keep going, to outrun their bullets. I kept going. I figured they’d already had heaps of time to see me.
The fence seemed an awful long way off. Homer was lying along the top of it like an old-fashioned high jumper rolling over the bar. He seemed to have realised at last that I wasn’t breathing down his neck. I leapt at his outstretched arm and grabbed it, chucking the wire over into the darkness, then using my left hand to scrabble my way up the fence. I gripped the crossbar and hauled myself to the top, Homer rolling over just before me, so that I landed on top of him, in someone’s garden.
‘Do you think they saw you?’ he panted from underneath.
‘How should I know?’ I said crossly.
I could feel him trembling. We couldn’t take much more of this, I thought. Even simple little operations were riddled with danger now, like old timber rotten with borer.
‘Where’s Kevin?’ Homer asked.
‘Will you stop asking silly questions?’
That was probably a silly question. Anyway, Homer didn’t answer it. At the same moment a slight rustling told us Kevin was coming from the next-door garden. He crouched down beside me.
‘Do you two want to be left alone?’ he asked.
I’d been in a bad enough mood already and he’d just made it worse.
‘What happened?’ I asked coldly. I disentangled myself from Homer.
Kevin must have got the message because he didn’t try any more jokes.
‘I think we’re OK,’ he said. ‘The guy’s badly hurt. Might even be dead. They didn’t see anything. And the bloke himself, if he does survive, won’t remember a lot.’
‘Fair enough,’ Homer said,
While I’d been watching this frightening sight Homer was already out of his hiding place and gathering the wire. He wasn’t even looking at the rider. I was annoyed with myself that Homer was doing the work while I was being a tourist. Lucky I didn’t have a camera; I’d probably have been taking photos.
So I ran to help. We had to get the wire out of the way so they would find no reason for the crash. We wanted it to be a mysterious, inexplicable accident.
The wire was in two parts. The impact had snapped it. Already I could hear the other bikes coming back. All of this had taken only five or ten seconds. The previous three bikes had just got around the bend when we tripped the last guy, so it was taking them no time to return.
‘Come on,’ I said to Homer. I was badly scared. We had almost a hundred metres to get into safe cover. We wanted to be down a driveway and into the next block before anyone started looking.
Homer took off and I followed, trailing about ten metres of cable and trying to roll it up as I went. It caught in something behind me and nearly ripped my hand off again. I pulled fiercely, determined to make it come free, determined that the sheer strength of my willpower would get it free. No way in the world was I going to go back and get it.
Unfortunately my willpower wasn’t enough. The bloody thing wouldn’t move.
Like it or not, I had to do something. I started charging towards it, then saw, even in the darkness, that it had caught around a tap. I yanked it from a different direction and felt it come loose at last.
I turned and followed Homer again, reeling the wire in as I ran. He was as good as out of sight, down the end of the driveway, getting ready to climb the fence. He didn’t seem worried about me. Maybe he thought I was right behind him. Maybe he didn’t think about me at all. I went at that fence as though I was at the school sports day and running the last leg in the relay. A beam of light came down the driveway, lighting my legs. I understood that it was one of the headlights, either searching the driveway or a bike turning round and accidentally lighting the place up. Whichever, I felt totally exposed. I didn’t know whether to stop, so that my movement didn’t attract their attention, or to keep going, to outrun their bullets. I kept going. I figured they’d already had heaps of time to see me.
The fence seemed an awful long way off. Homer was lying along the top of it like an old-fashioned high jumper rolling over the bar. He seemed to have realised at last that I wasn’t breathing down his neck. I leapt at his outstretched arm and grabbed it, chucking the wire over into the darkness, then using my left hand to scrabble my way up the fence. I gripped the crossbar and hauled myself to the top, Homer rolling over just before me, so that I landed on top of him, in someone’s garden.
‘Do you think they saw you?’ he panted from underneath.
‘How should I know?’ I said crossly.
I could feel him trembling. We couldn’t take much more of this, I thought. Even simple little operations were riddled with danger now, like old timber rotten with borer.
‘Where’s Kevin?’ Homer asked.
‘Will you stop asking silly questions?’
That was probably a silly question. Anyway, Homer didn’t answer it. At the same moment a slight rustling told us Kevin was coming from the next-door garden. He crouched down beside me.
‘Do you two want to be left alone?’ he asked.
I’d been in a bad enough mood already and he’d just made it worse.
‘What happened?’ I asked coldly. I disentangled myself from Homer.
Kevin must have got the message because he didn’t try any more jokes.
‘I think we’re OK,’ he said. ‘The guy’s badly hurt. Might even be dead. They didn’t see anything. And the bloke himself, if he does survive, won’t remember a lot.’
‘Fair enough,’ Homer said,
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