Wanted (Flick Carter Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

gone, hidden behind clouds that were scudding in from the west. More rain would be coming soon and it was best to be off the ridge when it did.  
    Time to go.  
    She kicked off along the track that would take her down the side of a steep valley to the lane leading back into town. As her bike got up speed, a ray of sunlight blasted its way through the clouds, striking the hillside opposite and lighting up the giant horse carved into it a brilliant white.  
    At the bottom of the hill, something caught her eye, snagged in the branches of a tree and flapping in the wind like a big black flag. She stopped and stared at it for a moment before deciding to set off across the field to investigate, cutting a trail through the long meadow grass. She wasn’t a Scav–far from it–but that didn’t mean she wasn’t above the odd bit of illegal scavenging when the opportunity arose. After all, whatever it was could be valuable.
    Twisted metal poles thick like scaffolding hung from the tree, caught up in pieces of fabric and rope. Higher up in the canopy there was more of the shiny black fabric that had originally caught her eye. Close up she could see that the fabric itself wasn’t black, but it was covered in hundreds of small black glinting squares joined by tiny brown strings. But how on earth did it get up there? That was a mystery.
    On the ground was more mangled wreckage. A small two-seat three-wheeled buggy had bits of broken tree lodged in its twisted and scratched up tubing. If there had been anyone driving it, they were long gone; hers were the only tracks through the long grass. It almost looked as if it had fallen through the trees. That was another mystery.
    She walked around the contraption, tugging at it. Some of the poles dislodged from the tree. They were surprisingly lightweight, not steel or iron–something else–but far too big and awkward to do anything with. Then she spotted something in the grass a little way away. It was a small box. She picked it up. It was quite heavy, but fitted comfortably in her hand. There were small knobs and a big, bendy rubber stick on one end. On one side was a clip, possibly designed for a belt. She shook the box; it didn’t rattle. Shrugging, it went into her bag; she could figure out what it was later.
    In her mind, Flick was already calculating what the wreckage could be worth. The poles could go to Dad in the forge, along with the carcass of the buggy: metal was always valuable even if it wasn’t steel or iron. The seats and wheels would be good for trade. The fabric sheeting with the strange black squares? Well, it would come in for something.
    It would take several trips to transport the wreckage back to town if she did it on her own, and she’d have to come back with a trailer, or maybe a wagon. She could always get help–Adam would do it, or Joe possibly, but she’d have to swear them to secrecy and share whatever money they got for it.
    She pulled the rest of the black shiny fabric down from the tree. It was too visible from up on the hills–that was how she’d spotted it herself–and the wreckage would need to be hidden while she made multiple trips to the town.
    Another movement caught her eye, over towards the trees at the far edge of the field. She looked across, and could see something red in the grass. As she ran towards it, it became obvious what it was; wearing strange red clothes and a leather helmet, it was a body.

    The body lay face down, as if it had been crawling away from the wreckage. It wore one-piece overalls made from some sort of red fabric, smeared with grass stains, and a hat made of leather that completely covered the back of its head. Flick looked at it for a moment, wondering what to do, then nudged it with her foot.
    The body made a low groaning noise. She nudged it again, and it groaned again. Then it moved.
    Flick jumped back in alarm, wishing now that she’d brought the bow and arrows from her bike, but glad she at least had a knife