Wilder Boys (5 page)

“What do you want me to do?” Taylor murmured.

In a pile in the corner of their room, the two boys had already collected some of things they would need for this year's summer camp, but Jake quickly made an additional survival list.

“Pack up what we already pulled out for camp—especially the warm clothes and socks.”

Taylor did as he was told. “What else?”

“Get the flashlight.”

Taylor retrieved the light from the kitchen, and Jake stuffed it into his pack. Just then they heard someone knock on their front door.

“Boys, are you all right?” came the muffled voice of Mrs. Jones, the woman from Child Protective Services.

Jake and Taylor hurried to the closed front door. “We're . . . We're fine,” Jake said. “We just need some time alone right now.”

“I understand.” Her voice welled with sympathy. “I'm
going to wait outside here. Come out when you're ready to talk.”

“All right. Thanks,” Jake said, fighting panic.

After a pause the brothers heard footsteps clack down the front steps, and then murmuring voices as the social worker began talking with some of the neighbors.

Jake took a deep breath. “That was close.”

“What else do we need?” Taylor asked.

They hurried back to their room, and Jake pulled open the top drawer of the desk they shared. It contained some of his most prized possessions. He pulled out his Swiss Army knife and shoved it into his pocket. Next he handed his compass to Taylor. “Here, you keep this. And go get some string from the kitchen drawer.”

While Taylor went off to the kitchen, Jake also pulled a cell phone from the desk. The phone was a disposable one with a fixed number of minutes on it. Jake had seen Bull toss it in a drawer a couple of weeks ago, and Jake had retrieved it when he wasn't looking.

Taylor returned with a small spool of string and put it into his own pack. “What else we need? Can I bring Ziggy?”

Taylor held up the little stuffed raccoon their mother had given him a couple of Christmases ago. Seeing it in his brother's hands, Jake felt bad.

“I'm . . . sorry. We don't have room.”

To Jake's surprise, Taylor only nodded and gently
placed Ziggy back on his bed. Then Taylor reached into their closet and held up a battered booklet.

“What about this road map?”

Jake nodded. “Definitely. Good.”

“Can we also bring some books?”

Jake glanced at their already-bulging school packs and then walked to the bookshelf. “Only one,” he said, selecting their father's journal. Both boys stared at it and then at each other. Jake quickly stuffed it into his pack.

After grabbing a few cans of food and a can opener from the kitchen, Jake led Taylor and Cody to the bedroom Bull and his mother shared. He got down on his knees and pulled up the loose tile covering Bull's secret hiding spot. Bull's gun was gone, but the plastic bag full of money lay undisturbed. Jake grasped it.

“Jake, what are you
doing
?”

“We're going to need cash,” he said, straightening up. “It doesn't belong to Bull anyway.”

“But you said Bull would kill us,” Taylor told him, staring at the cash.

Jake felt something harden inside him. “Only if he finds us. And Bull isn't
ever
going to find us.”

Back in their room, Jake also pulled the orange box full of letters from where he'd hidden them under his bed. Jake grabbed the most recent ones and slid them into his bag.

Finally the boys zipped up their packs and struggled into them. Jake could feel the straps digging into his shoulders,
but he almost welcomed the pain. It was nothing compared to what he'd felt watching their mother get carried away in the ambulance.

Loaded up, Taylor walked to the front door and peeked through the glass.

“The neighbors are still out there,” Taylor observed. “And that social worker.”

“We'll have to climb out our window.”

They hurried back to their bedroom at the back of the house, and made sure the backyard was clear. Jake slid open the windowpane and dropped both of their packs onto the ground below.

“What about Cody?” Taylor asked. “We're takin' him, aren't we?”

Jake stopped. He hadn't thought about their dog. Almost reading his mind, Cody whined and wagged his tail. Jake smiled. “Of course. We can't leave him with Bull.”

Taylor climbed out the window first, and Jake lifted the terrier down to him. Jake dropped to the ground after them.
This is it,
he thought.
No going back.
He picked up his backpack once again, then paused.

“You ready, Taylor?” He asked.

“Ready,” Taylor replied.

Together the three of them cut through their neighbor's backyard to the next street over. Then they hurried toward the jungle and away from their old lives. They didn't look back.

6
“How are we gonna get to Wyoming?” Taylor asked.

That's the question,
Jake thought to himself. With the cash in his backpack, the boys had more money than they could count—easily enough to buy bus or even airplane tickets, but Jake rejected that option. With or without tickets, the people at a bus station or airport weren't just going to let two boys travel by themselves.

Jake considered hitchhiking, but that was too visible. Anyone could spot them out on a road and report them to the police. He'd also heard horror stories of bad people picking up children and kidnapping them—or worse.

Then Jake thought of another option.

“So?” Taylor pressed.

“Let's head to the rail yards.”

“We're gonna ride a freight?” Confusion filled Taylor's voice.

“Plenty of other people have done it,” Jake said, thinking about all the books he'd read where runaways and outlaws had hopped freight trains.

“I guess so. . . .”

Jake just hoped that he'd given them enough of a head start on the authorities waiting at their front door. The rail yards lay less than half a mile from their house, and the boys and Cody quickly covered the distance. They followed the dirt track through the jungle, on to an exposed clearing, and back into a brushy strip of trees. There they found a trail that led them to a chain-link fence. They halted. On the other side of the fence, a dozen parallel rail sidings filled an area larger than ten football fields. Freight trains were parked on some of the tracks, but on one, a long train loaded with coal slowly rumbled out of the yard.

“Man, there're so many,” Taylor said. “Which one are we gonna take?”

“Beats me.”

From the books he'd read, Jake knew that some freight cars were more comfortable than others. He spotted some filled with coal that were clearly no good. On several of the other trains, however, he could see regular enclosed freight cars with open doors. They looked empty from where he, Taylor, and Cody squatted.

“How do we know which way they're goin'?” Taylor asked.

“Will you be quiet and let me think?” Jake said, but Taylor's question was a good one.

Wyoming, that's west,
Jake reasoned.
It's not going to do us any good to catch a train heading to Maine or Florida—not if we want to find Dad.

He looked at the afternoon sun and saw that it struggled to shine through the clouds to his left.

That means that the rail yards run north–south.

“C'mon,” he told Taylor. “Let's climb the fence.”

The two boys tossed their packs over the fence and scrambled after them. As soon as he saw what they were doing, Cody crawled under a shallow depression to join them.

“Hurry,” Jake called, and headed off across the sets of tracks.

“So . . . which one?” Taylor asked, trotting after him.

“I'm not sure, but keep an eye out for guards. They don't like people riding the rails.”

The trio reached the first train and ran along it. Jake saw that some of the rail cars were filled with grain.

Grain grows out West,
he thought.
So that train's probably heading in the opposite direction—not what we want.

They crossed between two rail cars to the next train.

“There's an open car!” Taylor told him. Jake followed his brother's gesture to see a pale white metal car covered with
graffiti, and they began trotting toward it. They stopped in front of the open door. Inside, the car was empty, the floor covered only by dirty plywood.

Jake nodded. “This could work.”

However, as he wandered along the track, trying to work out which way the train was headed, he heard a crunching sound on the gravel below. Jake flushed with panic and stopped dead in his tracks. Stepping out from between two giant cars, a surprised-looking guard with an eager Doberman emerged in front of him. Jake doubled back, eyes wide with fear.

“Quick, Taylor, run!” Jake cried.

Too late.

The Doberman barked at the boys, and the guard hollered, “Hey, you two! Stop now!”

“Move!” Jake said, scrambling under the train, Taylor and Cody on his heels.

“After 'em!” he heard the guard yell, releasing the Doberman.

“Don't slow down!” Jake called to Taylor.

The boys sprinted full speed along the length of the next train, but a loud growl made Jake glance back. The Doberman was galloping after them. As the two boys ran for all they were worth, Cody spun around and charged fearlessly toward the bigger dog.

“Cody, no!” Taylor screamed, but the terrier knew what he was doing. He ran at the other dog, barking and
growling furiously. The Doberman was so astonished, it skidded to a halt. Then it seemed to remember how big and fierce it was, and lunged at Cody. Quicker than the big dog, Cody dodged to the side, nipped at the Doberman's flank, and ran past him in the opposite direction. Growling, the Doberman followed.

Jake seized Taylor's arm. “C'mon!”

The boys ducked under another train and, on the next track, found a freight just rolling out of the station. Jake hoped it was moving in the right direction, but runaways couldn't be choosers, and his eyes locked on an open car moving toward them.

“Catch this car!” he told Taylor.

“We can't leave Cody!” Taylor shouted back.

The open freight car pulled almost even with the brothers.

“Come on,” Jake hollered, hearing the angry shouts of the guard in the distance. “We have to lose them!”

He pulled off his backpack and then ripped Taylor's off his back too. Carrying both packs, he trotted along next to the moving freight car and tossed the packs through the open door. He glanced back to see that Taylor hadn't moved.

“Taylor,
run
!”

Taylor stood, paralyzed.

“Cody can take care of himself!” Jake desperately shouted.

Just then they heard a bark and saw a small brown-and-white figure racing down the track toward them.

“Cody!” Taylor shouted.

Unfortunately, the guard, holding the Doberman by the collar, emerged just beyond the terrier.

“Stop right there! You can't ride that train!”

“Hurry!” Jake yelled to Taylor. “Don't slow down!”

Both Taylor and Cody charged after Jake.

The freight car was picking up speed every second. Their feet pounding the gravel, the two boys had to sprint to catch up. Jake seized Cody and, with the railroad guard still hollering at them, tossed the terrier into the freight car. Then Jake grabbed on to a small metal handle and swung himself inside.

He spun around to see Taylor running all-out next to the train. Jake reached for him.

“Hurry, Taylor! Grab my hand and I'll pull you up!”

But by now, the freight train was accelerating.

“Taylor! Run faster!”

“Jake, I can't do it!”

“You've got to, Taylor! It's our only chance!”

But Jake just watched in horror as his brother fell farther and farther behind.

7
Suddenly Jake was thrown to the floor of the freight car. The entire train seemed to stagger, and loud crashing sounds filled the air as the couplings of the freight cars slammed together. For a moment he didn't know what happened.

“Jake!” Taylor shouted. “Help me!”

Jake scrambled to his feet to see Taylor's hands inside the freight car door as his brother continued running alongside the rumbling train. Cody stood in the open doorway, barking like mad.

Jake hurried over and grabbed Taylor's forearms. “Jump!” he shouted.

With a desperate gasp, Taylor leaped and Jake yanked him up and into the car. Taylor tumbled onto his brother, sending both of them rolling across the metal freight car floor.

Jake felt Cody licking his face. He and Taylor stared at each other wide-eyed. Then they both burst out laughing.

“Man, that was too close,” Taylor said as the train began to accelerate again.

“Yeah,” said Jake, sitting up. “
Too
close!”

Taylor scrambled to his feet and peered out the door, back in the direction they'd come. The guard and his dog were disappearing into the distance.

“Do you see them?” Jake asked.

“Not anymore!” Taylor grinned. “Do you think he'll come looking for us?”

“I don't know—but I think we're safe for now.”

“Good!” Taylor replied. “But do we know which way we are going?”

Jake joined his brother at the open railcar door. The train seemed to be following the river, and pretty soon they could see the tall buildings of downtown Pittsburgh.

“I think we got lucky,” Jake said. “Looks like we're going west.”

Taylor grinned. “You think we'll be in Wyoming by tomorrow?”

Jake punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Haven't you paid any attention in school at all? It's going to take us at least three or four days—if this train even goes there at all.”