Wild Boy Read Online Free PDF Page B

they would feel when they discovered they’d lost what little money they had.
    He cursed, banged a palm against the rooftop. He would warn them, that was all. He’d give them a flash of his face — that was enough to scare anyone off.
    A moment later he was running again behind the vans. His long coat fluttered as he leaped over planks supporting sinking wheels, and weaved between guy ropes where showmen had pitched tents backstage. He ran right around the circus tent and to the backs of the caravans on the other side of the path. He ducked down an alley between two of the vans and finally stopped, catching his breath. A strip of cloth hung across the other end of the alley, painted with a slogan for the circus. MRS. EVERETT’S MOST MARVELOUS SHOW!
    Wild Boy felt a glow of satisfaction. He’d gotten there before the thief.
    He crept to the end of the alley and peeled back the banner. Yards away, dozens of people trudged along the path. He was relieved to see that the family didn’t need help after all — they had already turned back toward the park gates, moving so fast they were almost running. Wild Boy watched them go for a moment. The girl was crying, but how he envied the life that she was running back to. He hoped for her sake that she could forget all about this terrible place.
    Just then something dropped from the top of a van and landed with a
splash
behind Wild Boy in the mud. It was the thief!
    He whirled around but the person was too fast, a blur of red and gold. A fist punched him in the stomach. A boot kicked him hard in the shin.
    “I saw you, freak,” said a voice. “You scared off my mark.”
    Before Wild Boy could react, the thief leaped over him in a single acrobatic bound. He turned to fight, but again he was too slow, and the thief booted him painfully in the backside. He staggered forward. His head whacked against the caravan wall, and he tumbled into the mud.
    The boots squelched closer. “And now you’re going to pay.”

W ild Boy looked up through a veil of wet and tangled hair.
    The face of a girl glared down at him, as pale as the moon except for strawberry freckles that dotted her cheeks. Her long hair was the color of rust, and her dress was covered in red and gold sequins that shimmered in the moonlight.
    Wild Boy scrabbled back between the vans, his heart pounding. This was Clarissa Everett, a teenage acrobat from the circus. He’d been enemies with her since the day he joined the fair. That day, more than ever, he had needed to show people that, although he might be small, he’d fight anyone who laid a finger on him. Clarissa had been the first to try, and he’d smashed one of her teeth with a stick. None of the other fairground children had picked on him since.
    Clarissa stood over him, fists bunched and freckles flared. “This end of the path is circus territory,” she said. “Freaks don’t belong here, nor rats neither. And you’re both.”
    Gripping the caravan wheel, Wild Boy pulled himself up. He guessed that Clarissa was only a year older than him, and almost as slim, but she was tough too — an acrobat by day and a fairground thief by night. He had to show her he was tougher.
    He brushed long hair from his eyes, hocked up a ball of spit, and fired it to the ground between them. “Fight, then,” he said.
    Clarissa did the same, her spit landing inches from his bare feet. “Fight,” she agreed.
    “To the death,” Wild Boy added, holding her glare.
    Clarissa hesitated. “What?”
    “If we fight, it’s to the death. Them’s the rules.”
    “I ain’t fighting to the death! I’m just going to kick your teeth out. I followed that family all the way from the gates until you scared ‘em off. They were rich toffs.”
    “Ha! All you’d have gotten was an empty pocketbook. They weren’t toffs. At least not no more.”
    “How could
you
know that?”
    “I saw.”
    “Saw?”
    Wild Boy cursed. Other than Sir Oswald, he didn’t tell anyone about the way he saw