‘I see their boat,’ Dario shouted back at him. ‘They are fishing still.’
‘I’m going to get my camera,’ Joe cried determinedly. ‘I might be able to photograph them.’
If Dario responded, Joe didn’t hear him. He spun round and began to retrace the route they had taken, pushing tree branches aside and focusing solely on the odd footprint that confirmed he was going in the right direction. Don’t get lost! he kept saying to himself. The rain was bouncing off the ground in front of him, gradually wiping out the footprints and blurring his vision. Don’t get lost!
At last, he came to the place where they had dropped down to the water’s edge. His camera was still hanging from the branch where he had left it, alongside Dario’s rucksack. He grabbed them both, stuffing the camera into the rucksack and slinging the rucksack over his shoulders, and set off again.
With every step he grew more fearful that he might not reach his friend, that Dario might have thought he was going home. What if something’s happened to him? Eventually, to his relief, he saw Dario in the distance, gesturing at him to hurry up.
‘You scare me,’ Dario said, when Joe caught up with him. ‘I think you get lost and then Ma’am Angela and your parents will not be happy with me. Stay with me now.’
They pushed their way through dense, low-growing shrubs that took them nearer and nearer to the place where the two men would be likely to come ashore.
‘I thought I could photograph the men as soon as they’re close enough,’ Joe tried to explain again.
‘Then they will be too close,’ said Dario. ‘I have a better idea, I think.’
They came to the edge of a small clearing. In front of them, leaning against a clump of shrubs, was a motorbike. Joe’s heart skipped a beat.
‘I was right!’ he said excitedly. ‘It was those men we saw!’
Dario nodded. ‘So now we catch them.’ He grinned at Joe. ‘You ever ride motorbike?’
Joe was amazed at the question. He shook his head. ‘I’m too young,’ he said.
‘Not in front,’ Dario explained. ‘You sit behind, I sit in front. I know what to do. They leave the key in the engine. I can make it go.’
The full import of what Dario was suggesting hit him. All at once Joe felt exhilarated – and scared stiff.
Chapter 14
Dario positioned himself behind a large tree trunk and peered round it towards the sea. ‘Keep by me,’ he said to Joe. ‘Be ready.’
Joe did as he was told. He couldn’t see anything; being shorter, there were bushes obscuring his view. He was reliant upon Dario telling him what was going on.
‘We wait until they don’t face this way, then we run – quick – to the motorbike. We ride – very quick – to the village and we tell the village captain what we see so they come here and catch the men.’
Joe’s heart was pounding now. Dario’s only thirteen. Am I really going to get on a motorbike with him? Has he ridden one before? Joe didn’t think he had any choice. He was likely to get lost if he tried to walk back on his own, and the men might catch him, even though they would have no reason to concern themselves with him if they were unaware that he knew what they had been doing.
Dario grabbed his elbow. ‘Now. We go now. Run!’
He sprinted over to the motorbike and pulled it away from the bushes. Joe dashed after him. Dario held it upright and told Joe to get on. As he obeyed, they heard shouts. Dario clambered on in front and tried to start the engine. Joe looked out to sea. The men were standing in their banca, waving furiously at them, but they were too far away to do anything. Joe turned back, feeling rather smug for a moment. He caught sight of a flash of red behind the trees. Before he could think what it might be, and as the motorbike engine roared into life, a man broke through the trees and came tearing towards them. Joe could see straight away that the man was angry. He must be an accomplice!
‘Hurry!’ he yelled.
Dario turned and saw the danger. He put his foot down on the accelerator and revved it hard. It spluttered and died, then spluttered again.
‘He’s closing on us!’ Joe cried.
They began to move – too slowly on the soft ground, it seemed to Joe. He held on tight to his friend and prayed that they were out of reach of the man, whose voice seemed to come from right next to them.
At last the motorbike picked up speed. Joe looked round and saw the man running back through the trees, away from them. Out at sea the two men on the banca were frantically collecting the fish they had killed with the blast. Joe felt like waving tauntingly at them, but was too scared to let go of Dario, who was weaving precariously along the slippery unmade road.
‘They’ll never be able to catch us now!’ he cried, in the hope that the older boy would slow down.
Dario couldn’t hear him above the engine noise and kept his foot pressed hard on the accelerator. Joe looked round again. Just then, he saw the man reappear – on another motorbike. He dug Dario in the back.
‘He’s coming after us!’ he yelled at the top of his voice.
Dario caught sight of the motorbike in his mirror. He leant forward, urging their motorbike to go faster, but it wasn’t very powerful. The other motorbike was gaining ground on them with every turn of its wheels. Now Joe was really terrified. What’s he going to do to us? He could almost feel the man breathing down his neck as the other motorbike rumbled up behind them.
