I stayed perfectly still, holding Max against my chest to keep him from making a sound. The footsteps moved along the edge of the road, circling the area where the pipe opened up. I could hear the clink of metal, perhaps a weapon or a tool.
“The bag is torn,” the voice said, sounding closer now, almost right at the mouth of the culvert. “Something’s been getting into it.” I prayed that the shadows were deep enough to keep me hidden from view.
I reached into my pocket and felt the cold screen of my cell phone, desperate to call for help. But I knew the glow of the screen would be a dead giveaway in the pitch-black tunnel. I had to wait for them to move just a few more feet away.
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The boots stopped right in front of the pipe, and a beam of light swept across the entrance. It missed my boots by inches, illuminating the muddy floor and the scattered scraps of cash. My lungs burned as I held my breath, praying Max wouldn’t meow.
“Forget the scraps, just grab the main bag and let’s go before a cruiser rolls by,” a second voice called out. I heard them grunting as they reached for the heavy plastic, unaware I was watching from the darkness. They scrambled back up the embankment.
