Cahills vs vespers book 3 pdf download

Everything electric seemed to be out. He bolted into a narrow, clammy stone corridor and flipped on the flashlight. His head smashed against a stalactite and he yelped. Not good. That gave away his location. He shone the flashlight once to get the lay of the land. Then he shut it off and plunged ahead. Hunched but fast. Careful was crucial, but speed was key. Casper and Cheyenne were behind him in the room, stumbling in the dark, shouting, arguing. Atticus heard a crash.

As he sprinted, his ankles twisted in stone ruts. He flashed the light again. Ahead of him was a sharp fork in the rock. One path had to lead outside. Chances were that it circled around and met the path they had taken in. He tried to orient himself in his mind. He had always been good at that.

Jake had called him a human GPS. No, right. He raced up the right path, which led to an uphill slope — then another fork, and another. Now he was just guessing. Get back here! How far away were they? Judging from the voices, maybe thirty yards.

He glanced over his shoulder and ran smack into a stone wall. He was at a three-way fork now. He stopped. No clue whatsoever. He chose the middle path and scampered as fast as he could. It curved ninety degrees and then ended abruptly in a solid wall. Dead end. Not even a crawl space to hide in. Atticus felt sweat pouring down his body. His clothing clung to him. The cave was sticky and cold, and his hands were clammy.

His flashlight slipped, hitting the ground with a loud smack. He flinched. Standing stock-still, he stared at the passageway opening — back toward the nexus of the three-way fork. Casper gasped with horror. To the left. You should have been watching him. The system sensed an intruder. It shut itself down. Bats are the least of our worries. Blowing up would be top of the list. Blowing up? Atticus waited, willing himself to breathe.

He caught a rush of cool air and sucked it in greedily. When he could no longer hear footsteps, he prepared to bolt. But where? He looked down, felt around for his flashlight, and bent to pick it up. As his hand touched the metal, he froze. How had he been able to feel a breeze? He looked up. High above, he could see a line of wispy gray, like the ghost of some phosphorescent slug among the crags. Escape equals breeze plus light, he thought, then modified the calculation.

Multiplied by impossible climb. He was afraid of heights. She had told him this was for his own good — which was what she also said about asparagus and chores.

He hooked the flashlight into his belt and grabbed a handhold above his head. This time I gotta admit, Mom, he thought, you were right.

The rock face angled slightly away, just enough for him to climb with foot- and handholds. After about twenty feet, he climbed onto a platform. In order to get to the light, he would have to make his way over a huge outcropping that angled above his head and was slimy with drippings — or crawl underneath it, through a rock tunnel about ten inches high. He lay flat, squeezing through the opening. It was barely enough room, and he left shreds of his shirt on the rock floor.

At the other end, just past the mouth of the passage, was a thin ledge. Atticus grabbed a fist-sized rock and threw it into the void. No sound. He stood. Light seeped from above him, through a hole that was impossibly high. Far below him came a distant thook. How many seconds was that? He blanched. To get to the hole above, he would have to climb a nearly vertical wall.

He grabbed a handhold, but it came off in his palm and he stumbled backward. His heel caught the edge. He wobbled, wind- milling his arms.

At the last moment, he lunged forward again, grabbing another handhold. This one held. His heart juddered so violently he worried it would shake loose the rock. He tried again, keeping his eyes wide open.

He made sure to test each jutting rock before shifting his weight. Slowly he made his way up the wall. The breeze washed over him from above, growing warmer the higher he got. It was wicking away his sweat. He could taste freedom. When he was within ten feet, he stepped up the pace, digging his foot into a deep hole. His toe touched something that moved. A screech ripped the air. A tiny, black form skittered. He jerked his foot out. His left arm slipped out of its hold. He dangled by one hand, his shout echoing down the chamber.

The fingers of his right hand slipped. He looked down. The abyss loomed black and large. Desperately he lashed his left arm. His fingers latched on to the tiniest hint of an indentation. A rock dimple. The bat flew upward, disappearing into the hole. Atticus swung his foot carefully into another foothold. He tried to stop from shaking. Shaking was not a help.

His hands were wet. His feet felt numb. One foot after the other. He reached up again with his aching left hand. Up into nothing. And this time he felt soil.

Digging his fingers in, he yanked himself up. And then he was tumbling. Down a hill, through moist, sweet-smelling grass. The sun was setting over the rim of a hill. He heard the distant bleating of sheep. The breeze ruffled his hair, and he smiled. Standing upright, Atticus reached to the sky.

A laugh welled up from the depths of his gut. And it stopped suddenly when an arm reached from behind and covered his mouth. Jake heard the screaming loud and clear. He ran toward the noise. The terrain was hilly, and they were now separated by a small ridge. He should never have let the kid out of his sight. As he scrabbled up the rocky incline, his ankle twisted on a root.

He crashed down hard, pain shooting up his leg. Struggling to his feet, he thought about how much he hated Dan Cahill. Atticus would be home, happily exploring dangerous places with Google Earth. Not taken away by kidnappers.

He barreled over the top of the ridge, not seeing the other person hurtling toward him from the other side. They collided at the top, and Jake saw black. Like a dream. But this was real. It all was real. Atticus was alive. Jake fell forward, forgetting the pain in his ankle. He wrapped his arms around his little brother, breathing in the familiar scent of Atticusness he knew so well, a combination of bubble gum and acne cream.

High on another sloping ridge, above a sheep farm, Amy was lifting Dan off the ground. This place is going to blow! He landed on his shoulder and rolled down a grassy patch. He spat dirt and sat up. As the dust settled, he saw shepherds in the distance, their sheep scattering frantically.

But all Dan could hear was a tight, ringing sound. It was like a disaster film with the sound turned off.

Where was she? He glanced around, squinting through the settling dust. She was farther down the hill, groggy and dirty but safe. Jake was at the base of the next hill, and he looked okay, too. Atticus was between them, picking himself up from the ground. A moment ago, he had blindly flung Dan to the ground, thinking he was an attacker.

He realized the truth. Atticus grinned as he saw that Dan was okay. He began running to him, his dreads flopping in the wind, his knees banging against each other. As Dan raced down the hill, his hearing began to return. He grabbed his best friend, lifting him off the ground, swinging him in a circle. With a big smile on his face, Jake was almost unrecognizable.

Atticus pulled away and let out another hoot of joy. They were trying to pump information from me. Stuff about being a Guardian. I stalled and stalled, pretending I needed to use their computer. I guess I must have broken the system. They were planning to kill him! Big mouth. Vesper One wrote to us.

Dan turned to his best friend. They have no feelings. He grabbed his brother away from Dan and began heading down the hill. The car is behind the silo. He tried to summon up some sympathy for Cheyenne and Casper. He dug as deep into his soul as he could. But he came up with nothing. No feeling at all.

They were flesh-and-blood humans! Dan had barely known the guy, but the horror haunted him to this day. And forget about watching Bambi when he was a kid. Death was awful. For anyone. Even bad guys. It was human to feel for others. Serial killers. Dan shook. Maybe, deep inside, he was like that, too. Like father, like son. As he walked, his ankle scraped against a scrubby plant and he jumped away.

One of its buds, yellow and tightly round, came off in his hand. He recognized it immediately. Swiftly he broke off a branch and stuffed it into his backpack. Serum ingredient number fourteen. It was like an answer. An omen. With the serum, everything would make sense. The others were at the base of the hill. Dan raced after them. They all rounded the silo and ran to the stolen blue taxicab, parked in the shadow.

It sported a coat of dust and some strands of hay stuck in the wipers. Jake reached into his pocket, pulled out the key chain, and pointed the infrared beeper at the car. As it sounded, two figures rose up from the opposite side. One of them had a cell phone, the other, a pistol. Amy edged toward Dan. They were covered with soot, yet their eyes shone wildly. But we got over it.

As are we. Jake grabbed Atticus and shoved him behind his back. I believe I have switched sides. About whether we needed armor-piercing bullets. And I won. Not this close. No human being is going to put a bullet through two brothers staring him in the eye. Jake was desperate, buying time. Creating some kind of standoff.

It was unbelievably brave. We let Jake down. We told him Cahills were capable. And now we have to prove it. Judging from the panic on her face, Amy knew who was calling.

Amy lunged forward. She snatched away the phone before Cheyenne could scream. Jake tensed, ready to pounce. Amy ducked, pressing the phone to her mouth. A soft, measured breathing came from the other end. She was talking to him.

Talking to Vesper One in person. Hearing his breaths. Her hands could barely hold the phone. If anything happens to a hair on his head and all four of us are not allowed to go free, we do not tell you what we found in the Marco Polo text — the next location! Take this deal or you lose! Cheyenne and Casper stood gaping.

For once, they were speechless. Vesper One put his feet up on a polished oak desk. What a refreshing twist. But she was as canny as her brother. He closed his eyes and let her voice remain unanswered. Silence was a potent tool. What a difficult time it had been. The botched kidnapping. The Gomez shooting. The messy McIntyre affair. And now this. Six nasty little events. Now the Cahills were holding back a location. And they had just given him an ultimatum. Quietly he closed the phone.

And smiled. Amy heard a click on the other end of the phone line, and her blood seemed to stop. Ashen faced, she held a text message to Amy. You win. The boy goes free. She had to read it three times before it sank in. Limited time only: 1. You choose not to tell me the next location. You go there without any instruction of what to look for. I slaughter all the captives. As Amy read them aloud slowly, Cheyenne and Casper smiled.

Amy took a deep breath. Phoenix Wizard, looking so vulnerable and innocent. He needs us. We have something on him. To recognize the good fights.

The Cahills had recognized her wisdom. A leader had one job. To lead. The hostages live. For now. Wyomings are to step away from the car. Cahills have 15 seconds to give location. Amy nearly collapsed with relief. Do you have a brother named Jackson Hole? Casper chuckled. We failed Vesper One. Do you think we care what happens to you? His elbow jammed against Cheyenne, throwing her off balance.

Amy kicked Cheyenne away from the car. Casper let out a yowl of pain. The gun fell. Amy grabbed it before it hit the dirt and pointed it at Casper. Keeping the gun trained on Casper, Amy entered the passenger side, then so did Atticus and Dan.

Defiantly, Cheyenne thrust the screen forward: Location? Amy exhaled. Your next task: Find me a stale orb. You have 4 full days, or say farewell to a Cahill. You pick. Jake threw the car into park. Every time, he just makes it worse!

Choosing a name would be impossible. Giving Vesper One the choice was even more impossible. Before she could decide, Dan grabbed the phone and typed two words. Three sets of eyes glared at Dan like oncoming headlights. He felt as if they were on fire. As if someone else had climbed inside his brain and pressed the keys. Amy struggled to get words out. Nellie, Ted, Phoenix, Natalie.

They have the most years ahead of them. I will let the old man know who chose him for this honor. I leave you to your search. The clock starts immediately.

As Jake threw the car into gear, Dan tossed the phone back to Cheyenne. Atticus shrugged. The breeze was hot and reeked of explosives. Four days. Ninety-six hours. He shut his window. In the distance, clouds sat heavily on the mountaintops. Through a hiss of static, the radio blared some song that sounded like strangled, wailing cats. Dan and Atticus were asleep in the backseat.

Amy was nearly comatose in the seat next to him. He knew she hated him. Like the long delay in telling him about the danger Atticus was in. What kind of family picks among themselves for someone to die? What kind of family draws in an innocent kid and makes him the target of murderers?

And peace. Jake suddenly snapped off the radio. Where do you get the money? It was enough to buy a fleet. Where do you get it? She longed to tell him the truth, but she had already revealed too much to the Rosenblooms. Or they could give it up and instead join a hunt for thirty-nine clues leading to a secret. Family branches had been searching for centuries, fighting and killing each other. Somehow she thought Dan and I would unite the family.

Amy nodded. Is that what she was guarding from the Vespers — the secret of the clues? He tried to put the pieces together. But all he could see was Atticus, trapped inside a cave with those two blond maniacs. Amy cocked her head. The car fishtailed along the road. A driver honked loudly. Jake yanked the steering wheel to avoid a guardrail.

Stopping on a grassy shoulder, he spun around to Amy. Amy looked frightened. Some cockamamie secret to find. But the Vespers are out to murder my brother. What are you going to do for him? She took a deep breath and looked out the window. This was insulting. The beauty contest winner, the posh boy, and the geek. Jake leaned across the car. In a room with no decoration, a man and woman dressed in white looked up from a crossword puzzle.

The alert monitor was glowing red. Instructions, they knew, were to follow. Most alerts were code blue — mundane things, food and materials. Cost cutting. Code orange was more difficult. Like the shooting of the girl in the shoulder. Neither of them was expecting a code red. They had taken bets on who they would kill first. The man had placed a hefty sum on the older gent who had come dressed in black.

The woman had predicted the annoying athletic girl. They leaned forward, suddenly intent as the name flashed. They had grown to like the Asian fellow with the cane. Due to added security precautions, all private charter flights from Kayseri Erkilet Airport are limited to account holders. All other reservations must be made in person. Dan snapped his phone shut as he got out of the taxicab. For four. He wished it were for three. Having Atticus along would be cool. Not so much Jake.

But it was smack in the middle of the Silk Road route, where they transported stuff between China and the Mediterranean — thievery, intrigue, blood-and-guts central. Genghis Khan went ballistic there and nuked the place.

Well, not nukes, in actuality. More like beheadings, disembowelings, setting huts on fire, entrails strewn all over. Amy rattled off history and put him to sleep, but Atticus made it sound interesting. The wormwood branch had poked through a gap in the zipper.

She says Dan and I will need fake papers and disguises. The roar of an engine blasted from his left — and a Harley-Davidson motorcycle with flame decals jumped the sidewalk in front of him. A small crowd of travelers scattered.

The sun had created a raccoonlike pattern on his face. He answered in his deep, firm voice — in their language. In seconds, they were walking away. Dan watched in awe. His dark eyes seemed to dance. Originally from Istanbul. Amy walked beside him, reporting what had happened. When she spoke about Atticus and Jake, Erasmus stopped. She knew Grace. Do you know what that all means? Normally Erasmus was all steely strength and confidence. But something about his expression was. Nothing obvious — just a bit of unsureness in the eye, a bend in his posture.

But they fail me now. His voice was distant and halting. At a hotel. Someone had been there before me. By the time I entered the room. McIntyre was already. Tell us this is some kind of joke! He heard a strangled squeak, and it took him a moment to realize it had come from his own mouth.

It was impossible. McIntyre had been the 39 Clues hunt. Like normal kids. The old guy was so formal. Hard as they tried, they could only call him Mr.

He wished he could take that back now. They were all dead now. And the only ones left were Amy and. For forgiveness. What was he was supposed to forgive? Now it was clear. The message had come in right around the time that Erasmus would have found the body. What kind of monster was he? Forgive this? Then what? Who would be next? The rest of the hostages.

Erasmus, maybe. Just me. Me and you, AJT. Is that the plan? Just us? Then one of us had better watch his back. Dan whipped his phone out of his pocket and accessed his text messages. But as she rested her head on his shoulder, Dan felt nothing. Amy held tight to her brother. Dan was rocking back and forth, his features hard and remote. Beside them, Erasmus sat with his head in his hands. He and Jake approached with trays of coffee, hot cocoa, and bags of trail mix, chocolates, and chips.

Jake nearly spilled his tray. Atticus steadied him by the arm, and the two boys squeezed onto the bench. The idea — Amy, the very top — seemed so ridiculous now. McIntyre had died on her watch. Some leader. McIntyre had always had confidence in her. You are born to that role, Amy.

Well, he was wrong about that. At the very top of the Cahill family was a vacuum. Amy shrugged. Tell them. He had procured a top secret Vesper list. When he sensed someone was coming, he hid it. He put up a fight, but alas, the attacker was swift and fierce. But as McIntyre died, he twisted his body in an odd way. His attacker did not think to look there. Amy was dumbfounded. The list made no sense. No geographical patterns.

No obvious codes. Only one city name rang a bell. Grace wrote about Pompeii in her notes. She called the explosion the first test. We need to get to Samarkand or Uncle Alistair will die. In a split second, they would be back to arguing. Erasmus, I would like you to contact Jonah and Hamilton and arrange to meet them in Pompeii. And I mean now. The four of us will wait for the ID papers from Sinead and travel to Samarkand. Erasmus can book us a hotel.

Erasmus raised an eyebrow. Looking up from the desk, Amy sighed. He was just like Dan sometimes. The receptionist eyed them all with a nervous smile. Jake was storming ahead. She exhaled. What was with him?

His broad forehead, refined jaw, swept-back hair — all of it promised intelligence, wisdom, security. She had to admit he was gorgeous. A gorgeous, irritating bonehead.

She worried that letting the Rosenblooms come along might just prove to be a colossal mistake. Saving Uncle Alistair was going to be the hardest task of her life.

And she would have to do it after losing a night in Turkey, with Interpol on their tails, a genius kid marked for death, and a hottie who hated her guts. In the center was a bank of clear glass elevators in the shape of tubes, rising twenty floors and letting people off onto circular balconies.

All the rooms opened onto these balconies, and Amy could see people coming in and out of the doors. Her eyes fixed on them as she walked. As she stopped by the elevators, Dan plowed into her from behind. His head was buried in his smartphone. Mix the letters up. A lobster. Also bat loser. And rat lobes. As the elevator door opened, she felt her phone vibrating.

She nearly jumped. She was feeling too edgy. All I wanted to do was, you know, touch base? Are you okay? No one said hello like Evan. He was a ball of sweet eagerness. As the elevator door opened, she felt tears rushing to her eyes. It was refreshing to speak to someone whose first concern was her. Jake worried about the leadership skills of Amy Cahill. He watched her face carefully. She was talking to. From the video transmission in the Prague hotel.

The nerdy guy. Her boyfriend. She was crying and smiling. When she smiled, all the tension drained from her face. She was really pretty. She deserved to have a boyfriend, like anyone else. The elevator began to rise.

Behind Jake, Atticus was helping Dan with anagrams. Amy finished her call and hung up. Jake noticed her eyes had changed. They were scanning the hotel skittishly. What was she so nervous about? So many secrets in this family. So much paranoia. Amy shushed him. She was staring upward. Jake followed her glance. High above, a man leaned over the balcony.

He was dressed in a black suit with no tie, a wide-brimmed black hat, and sunglasses. He was scanning the area slowly, as if searching for something. No normal person would need to wear those.

Any button. Ask and answer questions to demonstrate understanding of a text, referring explicitly to the text as the basis for the answers. Learning Goal: In this exercise, students will use The Dead of Night to answer questions about the text and support answers by locating evidence in the text.

This is an active reading comprehension strategy that can be applied to a variety of texts across content areas. Because students are developing this skill, chapter numbers are given to help them focus their efforts. Refer to details and examples in a text when explaining what the text says explicitly and when drawing inferences from the text.

Learning Goal: Students at this level have mastered the ability to use the text to find answers. Now they are challenged to use details and examples to make an inference about the text. Quote accurately from a text when explaining what the text says explicitly and when drawing inferences from a text.

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Save Create a List. Create a list. Save Back. The Teacher Store Cart. Checkout Now. Teach This Lesson. About the Book The Vespers have crossed a line. Now the Vespers have gone too far. About the Author As an award-winning author with a degree in biochemistry from Harvard, Lerangis has a mix of skills that make him a formidable Clue hunter and Janus Branch member.

Explore The 39 Clues World Using Common Core Standards Discover exotic locations with famous explorers like Marco Polo, admire amazing artists and their work, and follow Dan and Amy as they conquer challenges like they have never had to face before! English Language Arts Anchor Standard 1 Students will be able to read carefully to determine the explicit meaning of the text and to make logical inferences from it.

Featured Book. Vespers Book 3: Dead of Night. View not found. Download the PDF from here. Featured Reproducible. Related Subjects. About Us. It consists of five series, The Clue Hunt , Cahills vs. Vespers , Unstoppable , Doublecross , and Superspecial. They chronicle the adventures of two siblings, Amy and Dan Cahill, who discover that their family, the Cahills, have been and still are, the most influential family in history.

The first story arc concerns Dan and Amy's quest to find the 39 Clues, which are ingredients to a serum that can create the most powerful person on Earth. Since the release of the first novel, The Maze of Bones , on September 9, , the books have gained popularity, positive reception, and commercial success. Steven Spielberg acquired film rights to the series in June , and a film based on the books was set to be released in but production has not yet started as of February.

He has the power to not only to travel back in time, but to change the past. Get ready for time-warping adventure with a historical twist in the last book of the Throwback trilogy from New York Times bestselling author Peter Lerangis, whose books have sold over five and a half million copies worldwide. Account Options Sign in. Top charts. New arrivals. The 39 Clues: Cahills vs. Vespers Book 3: The Dead of Night.

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