Jack's Island Read Online Free Page A

Bathurst Point on the road to the rubbish dump, the only bitumen road on the whole island, and the steepest. As we reached the highest point, something rustled in the shrubs off to the side.
    â€˜Jack! Banjo!’ Dafty’s head popped up like a circus clown from behind the steep sandbank at the edge of the road. He had a huge silly grin on his face. But then he usually did.
    â€˜What are you doing out here, Dafty?’ I asked.
    â€˜Nuthun,’ he replied, looking guilty.
    â€˜Wanna’ ride?’ asked Banjo. ‘There’s enough room in the seat for both of us.’
    â€˜Can we race? Can we race, Banjo?’ Dafty asked, instantly excited.
    We turned the trolleys to face downhill and Dafty scrambled in. He sat with his back against the fruit box, and Banjo climbed in front of him, gripping the reins.
    We moved off very slowly at first, almost together. I pulled on the reins to get clear of Banjo’s cart and then suddenly leaned back in fright as the hill dipped and the trolley bolted forward like it had been fired from a cannon. The roaring of the wheels sounded just like the Beaufort bombers that often flew low over the settlement on training flights.
    I was almost out of control.
    â€˜Weeeee!’ screamed Dafty. Banjo’s trolley raced ahead of me, even though there were two of them in the seat.
    â€˜Jack!’ Banjo yelled back at me.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜The bend!’ he said, pointing.
    Two hundred yards directly ahead of us the road turned sharply to the right, away from the cliff edge. Unless we made the bend we’d fly over the cliff and down onto the rocks below.
    The road dipped steeper and steeper. I could feel the steering going, the wheels skidding sideways. Every bump shuddered up into my seat and chattered my teeth. Now I definitely had lost control. I raced through my options. Tip up the trolley and end up sliding down the bitumen road and have all my skin torn off? Hit the sand on the edge of the cliff and go flying through the air and break my neck? Turn left, go straight over the edge and onto the rocks below and die a horrible, mangled death?
    Suddenly I had no choice. Mr Carter’s truck appeared at the bend, lumbering straight up the road towards us. In seconds we’d all be under the wheels and squashed flat.
    Just before I closed my eyes and pulled the reins hard to the right, I saw Jack and Dafty swerve to the left. They bumped across the flat rocks, shot out into space and plummeted over the edge. My trolley slammed into the sand bank and I felt myself being pitched forward as if in slow motion. I remember thinking how mad Mum would be with me—if I survived.
    Dafty yelled in sheer excitement as he and Banjo plunged to their deaths, just like he was on a roller-coaster at the Royal Show.
    â€˜ Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’ all the way down. And then silence. The only sound was the splashing of the waves. I couldn’t even hear the roar of the Chevy motor anymore.
    I climbed to my feet. My knees were bleeding and stinging, but I ran across the road towards the edge. I felt the blood running down my shins but I didn’t stop to look. I felt sick. I thought I was going to throw up. I expected to see Banjo and Dafty smashed to bloody pieces on the rocks below.
    â€˜Hey, Jack!’ From far away, I could hear the sound of Banjo’s voice. It couldn’t be. It was a sheer drop over the edge. He had to be dead. They both did.
    â€˜Hey, Jack!’ he called again.
    I peered cautiously over the edge of the rock outcrop. Banjo and Dafty stood up to their waists in water, completely drenched, laughing and giggling. The hill trolley, half submerged, floated upside-down nearby. They waved up at me.
    â€˜Lucky the tide’s in,’ called Banjo.
    â€˜That was great, ’ shouted Dafty. ‘Let’s do it again. Again! Again!’ He slapped at the water like a seal.
    Mr Carter had stopped his truck and run down the hill