The 39 Clues [Cahills vs. Vespers] 05 - Trust No One Read Online Free PDF Page A

Sinead was attempting to reposition the gun for another shot; not surprisingly, a delicate and fiddly operation. Amy yelled, her own voice sounding dull through the gonging in her brain. She wrenched her arm free and went into kickboxing mode.
    For an agonizing second, Amy stood frozen. Still dizzy and disoriented, was she really going to have to engage in a one-on-one, full-contact, bare-knuckle fight? Despite the months of kickboxing lessons with Sensei Takamoto, she had never truly imagined what it would be like to attack another human being.
    Then her vision cleared and her gaze landed on the gun. Sinead had her finger on the tiny trigger.
    It was amazing how fast Amy’s self-defense mechanism kicked in. She went straight to her best move, spinning to her right and using the one-two of centrifugal force and thrust to connect with Sinead’s hand.
    Solid contact: A tiny object flew through the air and fell into the ivy.
    “NO!” Sinead shouted. She dropped to her knees, scrabbling through the ivy vines in a desperate search.
    Amy had seen the gun fall to her right; Sinead was looking in the wrong place.
Go for it! NOW!
    Another solid hit: Sinead plowed into a planter, crushing a geranium and scattering its scarlet petals. But she was on her feet again in the next second. Abandoning all of Sensei’s dictates, she launched herself at Amy, knocked her to the ground, and started in on a good old-fashioned hair-pulling, nail-clawing catfight, complete with screeches.
    It was absurd: Amy wanted to cry out, “No, no! This is NOT what we were taught!” But she was too busy trying to keep Sinead’s claws out of her eyes.
    Sinead was on top, and she was bigger and stronger than Amy. One of Amy’s arms was pinned under Sinead’s knee. Her left hand yanked at Amy’s hair while her right went for a stranglehold to the throat.
    Amy tried to smash Sinead’s nose with a flat palm but couldn’t generate any real force. All she did was shove Sinead’s face back a few inches. Sinead was bearing down as hard as she could on Amy’s throat. Struggling vainly, her airway closing off, Amy was starting to see stars.
    Sinead had a death grip, with most of her weight behind it. Her eyes glittered with the knowledge that she had a clear edge in the fight.
    As strangled, choking sounds came from her throat, Amy did the only thing she could think of: She used her remaining air to hock a big gob of spit into Sinead’s face.
    “AARGH!”
    Sinead loosened her grip for just a moment, but it was long enough. Amy head-butted her squarely in the nose. Sinead’s head snapped back, and blood poured from her nostrils. As Sinead clapped her hands to her face in agony, Amy rolled out from under.
    For a few moments she saw red — literally, as the capillaries in her eyes were reinfused with blood. She heard the sound before she saw the sight: Sinead, one hand to her nose, running back up the alley.
    “HEY!” Jake’s voice. “What the — OOF!”
    Sinead had barreled him out of the way.
    “Stop her!” Amy tried to shout, but what came out was barely above a whisper.
    Jake rushed into the courtyard to see Amy on her knees in the ivy. It was too late to go after Sinead.
    “What happened? Are you okay?” Jake asked.
    No. I’m not okay. I might never be okay again.
But she nodded mutely.
    “What happened to your neck?” he said, crouching next to her.
    Amy became aware of a sore spot on the side of her neck that seemed to be something apart from the bruises caused by Sinead’s grip.
    “Hold still,” he said and touched the spot gingerly. He frowned and looked at his fingertips, which were dusted with a gray substance.
    “Argahgargah,” she said, then cleared her throat twice and still the words came out raspy. “That must be, like, gunshot residue.”
    “She had a GUN!?” Jake looked stricken.
    Her ear still ringing, Amy slumped against the wall. She felt something under her hand and picked it up.
    “What is it?” Jake was kneeling