The 39 Clues: Unstoppable: Nowhere to Run Read Online Free PDF Page A

electric gates swung open.
    Cars were now parked on the grassy edges of the lane, slanted in crazy angles. Photographers sprang forward, their faces obscured by cameras.
    The noise of camera shutters clicking sounded like hundreds of crickets on a still summer night. “Duck!” Nellie yelled.
    Amy ducked, but not before seeing a camera snapping a picture of her frightened face.
    Nellie gunned the motor and sped past them. Still clicking, the photographers ran for their cars.
    “Can you lose them?” Amy asked. Her heart pounded. She felt hunted and trapped.
    “Are you kidding?” Nellie sped down the street, then made a short right turn onto a dirt road. She squeaked past overgrown shrubbery to barrel down a driveway. “The Fieldstones won’t mind,” she said. “I gave Marylou my coffee cake recipe.” She swerved off the driveway, bumped over a grassy field, skirted a badminton net, then made a hard right onto a back road that ran along a lake. “We can get to the highway from here.”
    Nellie made several fast turns and approached the highway. She swung the car into the turning lane under the BOSTON sign.
    “You see?” she said confidently. “All clear.”
    Dan twisted behind her. “Um, not. I think I see that red Toyota again. And a couple others. They must have made a guess that we might be headed to the city.”
    The drive was short and tense. Nellie went as fast as she dared, but cars kept swerving close, trying to get a picture. The photographers cut across three lanes of traffic, hung out of windows shooting, popped out of sunroofs.
    “There’s some hats back there,” Nellie said. “Try to cover your faces so they can’t take your picture. Maybe they’ll give up.”
    Dan pawed through the hats. He held up a Mexican sombrero. “Uh, Nellie?”
    “Free Hat Night at Don Jose’s Cantina,” Nellie explained. “You gotta try the chimichangas.”
    “Haven’t you ever heard of Cap Day at the stadium?” Dan grumbled. He pulled on a plaid winter hat with earflaps and handed Amy a canvas beach hat. She pulled it down to her eyebrows. She couldn’t hear the clicking of the shutters but she felt their intrusive chatter hammering inside her brain.
    Nellie jerked the wheel suddenly to the right and exited off the highway, leaving two cars full of photographers zooming past, comical looks of surprise on their faces.
    “See ya, suckers!” Nellie called as she gunned through a yellow light, made two successive quick left turns, and then plunged into the notorious Boston traffic.
    After a few minutes of combat driving, Nellie pulled up in a bus lane with a cry of satisfaction. “I rule Beantown!”
    They craned their necks and looked straight up at the skeleton of a skyscraper across the street.

    A bus driver leaned on the horn behind them. “Text me when you’re done,” Nellie said. “I’ll meet you right here.”
    Ignoring the blaring horn, Nellie scanned the sidewalk. “There’s a lot of security. How are you going to sneak in?”
    “Just follow my first rule of life,” Dan said as he slid out of the Jeep. “Everybody’s gotta eat.”

    Fifteen minutes later, Amy and Dan walked to the side construction entrance, both carrying bags from Brown Bag Subs. The tantalizing aroma of meatball subs snaked up from the bags.
    Three construction workers sat on a makeshift bench of two-by-fours and bricks, right outside a door marked CONSTRUCTION SITE : DO NOT ENTER.
    “You guys know Joe?” Dan asked, holding up the bag. “This is his order.”
    “Just go through the door and yell,” one of the guys said. “He should be in the office.”
    Amy and Dan pushed through the door. “How did you know a guy named Joe worked here?” Amy asked as they dropped the food bags on a table.
    “That’s my second rule of life,” Dan said. “There’s always a guy named Joe.” He grabbed a yellow hard hat and tossed one to Amy.
    “It’s starting to scare me how much you know about breaking and entering,” Amy