Smugglers! by Karen King Page B

cliff route – he had less chance of being spotted that way. It was too clumsy and risky to carry the illegal cargo up to the main road and put it in his van. He’d need an accomplice too. Those crates were far too big to carry by himself, and there’s no way he could climb up the wall with them. Maybe the accomplice would climb down into the cave, tie a rope to the crates and Sid would pull them up?
    So, if I wanted to find out what was in those crates, I needed to do it now, before Sid and his accomplice came to collect them.
    I waited until the rowing boat had almost reached the big boat out at sea, then climbed over the rocks and raced across the sand to the cave.
    It was nerve-racking, I can tell you. I kept glancing over my shoulder, hoping that none of the people in the rowing boat were looking my way, not that I could tell in the dark, which hopefully meant that they couldn’t see me either.
    It was pitch black inside the cave. I longed to use the penlight in my pocket, but I was scared that they’d be able to see its beam from the boat, so I fumbled my way, not taking out my penlight until I was sure I was well away from the entrance. Even then, I only turned it to half-beam, just enough to see where I was going.
    I made my way over to the rocky ledge that led to the secret tunnel, pausing when I saw some dark shapes on the ground beside it. I shone my penlight over them and saw that they were crates. How stupid of the smugglers to leave them there! The tide would come in sometime in the night and then they’d all get soaking wet.
    Unless they had gone to fetch another boatload of crates and intended to move them up to the top cave when they unloaded them all. Which meant I had to be quick if I wanted to find out what was inside the crates.
    I remembered that there were some big boulders at the back of the cave, so I could hide behind them until the smugglers had gone. I beamed the penlight on the back of the cave until I located the boulders, made a mental note of their position and then turned my attention back to the crates. What was in them?
    I turned the beam up a bit and shone it on the nearest crate, searching all over it. I couldn’t see any writing, but there was an open padlock dangling from the lid. Now, I could find out what the smuggled goods were. I lifted up the lid and shone the light inside.
    It was empty.
    ‘Well, it looks like we’ve got ourselves a nosy kid here,’ a voice said from behind me. Before I could turn around, a hand slammed into my back, pushing me into the crate and then crashing the lid down on top of me. I was trapped.

Chapter 15
Prisoner
    It was dark inside the crate and cramped. I couldn’t see, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. A fountain of panic welled inside me, threatening to burst any second into a gush of petrified screams. I was a prisoner. Completely at the mercy of the smugglers.
    What were they going to do to me?
    I should never have come here alone. I should have thought it through more. Or, waited until the boats had gone, making sure the coast was clear.
    Sweat was pouring off my forehead, but I could barely move my arms to wipe it off. My breathing was ragged. Painful. Deep, anguished breaths desperately sucking at the limited air, swallowing it up. I felt tears prick my eyes and a lump form in my throat. This was it, I was going to die.
    Stop it! I told myself. Get a grip. There’s always a way out of a situation if you look for it. How many times had Vince told that to Mac?
    But, that was just a TV programme. This was real life and I was in serious danger.
    Well, panicking won’t help you get out of it, I thought. I forced myself to calm down. To breathe slowly and deeply.
    As I calmed down I realised that I could actually breathe fine, so the crate wasn’t airless. Perhaps that meant the lid wasn’t completely sealed. I shuffled around a bit so that I could move my arms. Then, I pushed the lid, which gave a tiny bit, then stopped. The smugglers