Into Thin Air Read online

  Nancy felt the Mustang roll forward, and she knew it was heading straight toward the edge of the hill. If they went over, they didn’t have a chance!

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  NANCY COULDN’T BREATHE. The blood roared furiously in her ears, and her eyes were riveted to the spot about a hundred feet away, where the hill dropped sharply off into the darkness of the garbage-filled dump. It was going to be a long, frightening, deadly trip down.

  The other passengers squirmed in terror, frantically trying to work free of the ropes that bound them. Something rose up in Nancy—a stubborn, absolute refusal to die. She looked down at the Mustang’s automatic gearshift, on the floor between her and Slade, and struggled with the ropes that held her wrists.

  The car kept rolling at a slow, steady pace, gradually picking up speed. Any second now, it would go over the edge, and there would be nothing Nancy or anybody else could do.

  Nancy twisted down into the seat. It was a painful, contorted position, but her head was only inches from the gearshift. Summoning up all her strength and twisting against the ropes, she banged the side of it with the top of her head, pushing the button that freed the shift. At the same time, she tried to push the shift back one notch.

  With a terrible screech of the automatic transmission, the Mustang threw itself into reverse. Nancy was hurled against the dashboard.

  The car was on the very edge, and no ground was visible in front of them. The fatal drop yawned below, but the car pulled back from the edge, driving in a crazy circle, then another, round and round.

  Nancy was sure her last effort had been useless, that they would end up going over anyway, when suddenly the Mustang rammed into a parked bulldozer with a sickening crash. The car stopped moving. The engine sputtered and died.

  Then—silence. They were safe!

  Nancy looked around her. Bess and George were stirring in the back seat. They seemed to be all right. But Mark and Hal Slade looked unconscious, probably from the jolt when the car crashed against the bulldozer.

  Nancy hoped they weren’t seriously hurt, but there was nothing she could do right then, bound and gagged as she was. If only the police would arrive!

  Sirens answered Nancy’s silent plea. The sounds came nearer and nearer. Soon, Chief McGinnis’s worried face poked through the window. Nancy had never been happier to see him.

  “Well, now, what do we have here?” the chief said jovially. He opened the door and started freeing Nancy and the others.

  “Did you get them, Chief?” Nancy asked as soon as the gag was removed from her mouth.

  “Johnson and the girl? We got them, all right.” McGinnis beamed. “Sorry we weren’t here sooner, but there was an accident on the road. We got Wilson, too—the old guy is back behind bars, and this time I don’t think he’ll be out for a while. Thanks, Nancy. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Nancy blushed and changed the subject. “Better call a doctor,” she told him. “The two guys are out cold.”

  Chief McGinnis radioed in the call for help, then reached over and checked Mark’s and Slade’s pulses. “They’ll be all right,” he assured the girls. “No blood anywhere, and they’re breathing. They probably have concussions.”

  Nancy shook her head and threw the chief a weary smile. “Now, why is it always the men who faint when the going gets tough?”

  YOUNG DETECTIVE SOLVES

  BIZARRE CASE OF LIVING DEAD!

  A Today’s Times Exclusive

  by Brenda Carlton

  River Heights has a new star detective. He’s golden-haired, blue-eyed, twenty-two-year-old Mark Rubin, and he’s just cracked the biggest case of his career.

  Last night at the town landfill, Rubin cleverly trapped criminal Christopher Johnson and his accomplice, Linda Bates, who had kidnapped two local teenage girls. Rubin was able to turn the tables on the crooks, who fled into the waiting arms of the River Heights police.

  According to River Heights’s own Nancy Drew, who also played a role in the dramatic events, Johnson, an embezzler, had been presumed dead. . . .

  Nancy put the newspaper down and stopped reading. George and Bess looked at her from across the Drews’ living room with annoyed expressions.

  “Ooh, that Brenda Carlton! She makes it sound as if you hardly had anything to do with capturing Johnson!” Bess seethed. “What’s wrong with that girl, anyway?”

  “I think she looked into Mark’s deep blue eyes and was swept away,” George joked. “Anyway, Bess,” she added, “I was there when Nancy gave Brenda the story. Nancy did give Mark most of the credit.”

  “But it was you who solved it, Nan,” Bess protested.

  Settling into her dad’s brown leather chair, Nancy smiled. “I figured Mark needed the boost,” she explained. “I thought it might help his battered ego.”

  “I guess so,” Bess said, nodding in agreement. “If Mark was my boyfriend, I’d make sure he never had ego problems.”

  “What’s this? Are you getting ideas, Bess?” George teased.

  “Well, he is free now, isn’t he?” Bess challenged.

  “Yes, but I wouldn’t say he’s much of a prize—despite his looks,” George counseled her cousin.

  Bess arched an eyebrow provocatively. “Are you sure you’re not just saying that because you’ve got an eye on him yourself?”

  Nancy shook her head, amused. Thank goodness she had Ned Nickerson. And now that the case was over, she was going to visit him at Emerson College as soon as she could.

  “Anyway, Nancy, I still don’t see why you told Brenda it was all Mark’s doing,” George said. “No matter what you say, Mark knows you were the one who did everything.”

  “Come on, I didn’t do everything,” Nancy corrected her. “Mark was the one who brought me in on this case, remember. If it wasn’t for his persistence, I wouldn’t even have stayed involved. He made some very good deductions, too,” she added.

  “But don’t forget he almost got us all killed, trying to pull that gun of his,” George added.

  Nancy nodded. “That was dumb of him,” she agreed. “I hope he’s learned his lesson.”

  “Come to think of it, I guess he is a little too intense for me,” Bess said.

  The phone rang, interrupting her. Nancy picked it up. “Hello?”

  “Nancy? It’s me, Mark!” came the excited voice on the other end of the line.

  “Mark, hi! Are your ears burning? We were just talking about you,” Nancy said.

  “Did you see the paper? Isn’t it fantastic!” Mark sounded more enthusiastic than ever.

  “Gee, Mark, it’s just an article,” Nancy started to say.

  “Just an article?” Mark replied. “Well, guess who read it? Archer Crabtree, that’s who. He just called me with a job offer!”

  “Mark, that’s great!” Nancy cried. “Bess, George, Mark got his old job back!”

  Mark interrupted her. “Not my old job, Nancy—a new job. He made me a full detective! I’m taking over Hal Slade’s position! Well, not exactly his position, since he had a lot of seniority. I’m already on another case, can you believe it! And, Nancy, this is a really big one—next time you see my face it’s going to be on the cover of the Chicago Times!”

  He launched into a description of his new case, which had something to do with a military contractor defrauding the government. By the time she hung up the phone, Nancy’s mind was reeling.

  She told Bess and George all his news, then made a face. “I hope I haven’t created a monster!” she confessed.

  The three girls broke into gales of laughter. “Oh, well,” Nancy managed to say at last. “From now on, when Mark has a problem, it’s his, not mine.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that, Nancy,” George teased her. “What do you want to bet that the first time he runs into trouble, Mark will be back on your doorstep,”

  “Yeah,” Bess chimed in. “Mark Rubin may be an up-and-comer as a detective, but he’s got a long way to go before he’s as
good as the one and only Nancy Drew!”

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Simon Pulse

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  Copyright © 1991 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  ISBN: 978-0-6717-0034-8 (pbk)

  ISBN: 978-1-4814-2845-3 (eBook)

  NANCY DREW and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  THE NANCY DREW FILES is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.