The Impossible Race: Cragbridge Hall, Volume 3

by Chad Morris

  “I’ve had a lot of thoughts lately . . . and . . . well, maybe I won’t even send this to you. Or maybe I will. I don’t know.” He wiped his hand over his face. His eyes were red and tired. “I guess tomorrow is the day that I might . . . die.” He clenched his jaw for a moment. The moment lingered. “That is a really weird feeling. I mean, I don’t want to . . .” His voice broke. He passed his hand over his face again, then shook his head. “Just in case it actually happens, I think I should let you know a few things.”

  Abby sniffled.

  “When you think you might die, you see the whole world differently,” he said. “I mean . . . some things that you thought were super important . . . just aren’t. Like making a samurai game. Or impressing everyone.” He took a deep breath. “And some things just seem more and more important.”

  Abby rubbed her eyes.

  “You know,” Derick continued, “it hasn’t been my favorite thing to be a twin. I mean, if sometime someone had let me pick, I don’t think I would have picked it.”

  Tears. She knew what he meant, but inside it hurt. Abby couldn’t get into the school on her own. She didn’t get asked to the dance. She wasn’t really invited to be on a team for the Race. And now her own brother admitted that he wouldn’t have chosen to be her twin.

  “And it used to bug me,” Derick said. “I mean, we usually get along okay.” A smile cracked his face. “Most of the time,” he corrected.

  Abby let out a half-laugh, half-cry.

  “Some people have even asked why I got better grades than you, and did better at . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence. “And I, I used to wish you were different. That you were more . . . like me.”

  Abby knew that Derick had been better at most everything their whole lives, but she hadn’t known that others asked about it.

  Derick closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, tears rolled out from under both eyelids. “I don’t think that anymore.” He wiped his cheeks. “I don’t think that kids our age always see how amazing people really are. They look at all sorts of stuff on the outside—the stuff everyone can easily see. And they think that’s important. A lot of the time it isn’t. And I thought that way too. I even thought that way about you. But you won me over, Abs.” He swallowed. “I mean, you don’t stop trying and every time anyone really gives you a chance, you win them over. You don’t give up. You never give up.”

  He blinked and used the back of his hand to wipe the corner of his eye. “Grandpa saw it in you long before I did. And you have saved everything a few times now. And hopefully you’ll save the day again and this whole message will be worthless.” He sniffled. “If that’s the case, let’s just agree to erase this thing.” He laughed louder than normal. “We’ll pretend it never happened.”

  “But if somehow tomorrow is my last day, please tell Mom and Dad . . .” He looked away. He looked back and tried to talk, but then turned away again. “Tell them I love them.” His chin quivered. “I didn’t tell them that very often. But I do. Tell Grandpa that I tried and that I love him too. And I’m grateful he . . . that he trusted me. I really did try.”

  Abby was a complete mess. She used the towel she had hanging on her bedrail to soak up the tears.

  “But you need to know that you are amazing. Sometimes the more you get to know someone, the more they disappoint you. Well, since we were wombmates, I think we know each other pretty well. And Abby, I think you just keep getting better.”

  He wiped his nose. “Sorry if some people don’t always get it. They’ll figure it out. You just keep being amazing.” He didn’t even try to stop the tears.

  “So, tell Rafa he’s been like a brother. And tell Carol that she’s kind of amazing too.” He smiled. “And she’s pretty cute.” Then his eyes went wide and he pointed at the recording. “But if I don’t die, don’t you dare tell her that I said that. I don’t want her getting any ideas.”

  Abby cried harder as she laughed.

  “Tell the team that I appreciated how hard they tried.” He swallowed. “So . . . yeah. I guess that’s about it. I love ya, sis. Remember that.” He reached forward to turn off the recording. “Oh, and if I’m not around, make sure you kick Muns’s trash for me.”

  The video ended.

  • • •

  Classes passed in a blur. Everyone talked about the Race, some wished Abby good luck. Jacqueline promised that the Spartans would lose. All Abby could think of was her brother and what she had seen last night.

  They discussed trying to call off the Race, but they knew security needed the contest to finish so they could analyze the key and see if Chief Shar was guilty. Also, if the Race didn’t end on time, an automatic message would tell everyone at Cragbridge Hall about the keys and the Bridge. They discussed not participating in the last event, but if there was any chance to get another key and protect the secret, they needed to do it. They would rush to the basement afterward just in case Muns tried anything. In fact, if they weren’t needed in the final moments, those with keys could sneak off early and be ready.

  But Abby had seen the future. She had seen herself in the basement. And it didn’t look like it turned out very well. But she didn’t know what else she could do.

  She walked slowly down the hall and stepped into the medical unit. She forced herself to smile when she saw the nurse. “How are you?”

  “Better every moment,” the nurse answered, her voice chipper. “Several of the teachers have been in and out of consciousness all day. I think they will be back soon. But of course the better news for you is a certain three people are coming around. They may be fully awake by tomorrow. Maybe even later tonight.”

  Abby forced herself to look happy again. She hoped the nurse was off. She hoped they would wake up sooner. Later tonight might be too late. “The sooner they’re up, the better,” Abby said, moving toward their room. “Will you keep me updated?”

  “Of course.”

  Abby walked into the room to see her grandpa’s eyes open and then close. She grabbed his hand. “Grandpa, I need you. Please wake up.”

  He mumbled but didn’t speak.

  Abby looked over her shoulder to be sure that the nurse wasn’t listening. “I think Muns is planning something terrible and it may happen tonight. And Derick may not survive.” She whispered one more sentence. “I saw it in the future.”

  Grandpa stirred. Could he understand?

  “Yes, the future,” she whispered. “I discovered your last secret. And Derick is in trouble.”

  Grandpa looked again, his eyes thin slits under his many wrinkles. “Secrets?” he asked in a daze.

  He spoke! He was gaining more and more consciousness. “Yeah, Grandpa. I’ve learned your secrets that the Bridge can interact with the past, the present, and the future.”

  He looked up at her and his lips curled. It was a lazy partial smile. “What about the last one?” he asked.

  “The last what?” Abby asked.

  “The last secret,” Grandpa said, and smacked his lips together.

  “Is there another one?” Abby asked.

  But Grandpa closed his eyes.

  “Grandpa, what do I do to help Derick?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Grandpa?”

  He was back asleep.

  • • •

  Derick looked at the faces of his team. They had definitely worked hard. He didn’t know what they were about to face, but he thought they had a good shot of winning. They were all gathered in a history classroom. Except for Anjum. He was with them through chat.

  “Now,” Anjum said, “thanks for coming. I should apologize for how I acted in the security room. It’s always difficult for me when others see me in person. I should say thank you for putting up with my weaknesses. I do not like crowds. And when I say ‘crowds,’ I really mean any group larger than just me.” He let out an uncomfortable, awkward laugh. “You have been good to allow me to use our rings to speak together.”

  Anjum paused. “I invited yo
u here because before we go into the last challenge, I want to show you something. I want you to know why you are called the Spartans. Abby, I’ve sent you a Bridge code; please share it with the others.”

  Abby stepped into a booth and put in a Bridge code. She selected the option to show the event throughout the whole classroom, as a teacher would. Immediately the whole team was surrounded by two armies about to clash in a war.

  On one side, soldiers with brass shields and spears and heavy armor waited. They drew close and interlocked their shields, making a human wall. The soldiers hollered out in raucous energy, building their rage. On the other side, men in hoods and robes with spears and woven shields approached silently.

  Derick looked back and forth between the sides. He wasn’t sure what was more intimidating: the screamers set in defense, or the silent approaching army intent to break through their lines. Both were unnerving.

  Step by step they grew closer. Then the silent soldiers charged, raising their spears. The two armies clashed in battle. Spears jabbed; men screamed. The army on the defense, their shields locked together, pushed back against their attackers.

  “This is one of the greatest last stands in history,” Anjum explained. “Xerxes came with his Persian army and completely outnumbered the Spartans. Zoom out, Abby. You’ll see better what is going on.”

  Abby zoomed out. As the perspective of the Bridge showed more of the battlefield, it changed Derick’s perception entirely. The hooded army was massive—tens of thousands of soldiers, maybe even hundreds of thousands. The men with shields were only a small fraction of that. They really didn’t stand much of a chance.

  “There are 300 Spartans and 700 Thespians and perhaps a few hundred others,” Anjum explained. “And for two days they held this pass against a massive army. Not only were the Spartans strong and courageous, but they were also smart. The pass to their cities was narrow. Only so many Persians could approach at a time. So even with a small army, they held off thousands.”

  Abby zoomed back in. She began to fast-forward. Soldiers fell on both sides, but the small army held its ground.

  “They did what was nearly impossible,” Anjum said. “And they would have lasted longer if Xerxes hadn’t found another way around the pass.” Anjum cleared his throat. “They still fought to the last man, and went down in history for their courage to fight against incredible odds.”

  “That’s amazing,” Piper said.

  “Yeah, the underdogs showed the big guys a thing or two,” Nia added.

  “So that’s why I chose the name Spartans. They never gave up, no matter how the odds were stacked against them. And now, they are legends.”

  “All right,” Abby said, clapping her hands together and trying to sound determined. “So let’s do the same.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Carol said. “But I really don’t want to wear armor like them. That looks really uncomfortable. Oh, and I don’t want to die.”

  “Don’t spoil the pep talk,” Derick said. “It totally worked.” If he was about to die, at least he was going to go down fighting.

  Sandstorm

  Remember what Landon and Sarah said,” Anjum reminded. “We have to work as a team. We’ll receive points for both how quickly we recognize where we are, and then for finishing the challenge in each place.” That was how this stage of the Race was like the explorer. Each team had to travel through four challenges, quickly figuring out where they were and then passing a test. Once they had completed the four rounds, they would know if they had won and would get the key—or if they had lost. “Is everyone ready?”

  Abby wasn’t ready. She thought about the key and the secret she was supposed to protect. She thought of Chief Shar waiting, and Muns watching, and an army somewhere, probably on its way. She thought about the extra security everywhere. Rafa’s mom was monitoring everything she could, on the lookout for anything strange. She agreed to watch out for Derick especially.

  Derick.

  All of the Spartans wore suits and visors. They stood in a lab, inside separate virtual booths that were linked together. All of them except Anjum. For the final challenge, all of the student body were gathered in the auditorium, and one member of each team would face the challenge from a booth there. The Race organizers wanted the person in the auditorium to be the team captain and Anjum had, eventually, agreed. But he insisted on being in his virtual booth, suited up and anonymous as he could be, before the crowd arrived.

  Six large screens showed each team and each student could, through their rings, decide which team they wanted to follow and listen to the sound.

  The rest of the team was ready to step into a virtual world.

  “Let’s do this!” Carol said, clapped several times, then did a few karate kicks. She still liked those.

  Abby just hoped she wouldn’t mess it up, that none of them would mess up. That they would do better somehow than they would have, when they didn’t know how this could end. That it would end differently than she saw in the Bridge. She felt a bead of sweat on her temple. She wiped it away. They hadn’t even gotten started yet.

  “Are you ready for the final challenge?” Landon asked the full-house auditorium. They answered with a din of excitement. The auditorium scene was patched into the virtual booth so Abby and the rest of the team could see it. It wasn’t a virtual experience, but they could see it all and feel the thrill of the environment. “On your mark,” Landon said.

  “Get set,” Sarah continued. She looked over at Landon.

  “Go!” they both shouted together.

  “Nothing but your best,” Anjum called out. “Let’s win this thing.”

  They all logged into the same world as Anjum.

  One moment Abby stood in a booth and the next she had no idea where she was. She couldn’t see a thing, and some force pushed her one way, but another pushed against her in the opposite direction. She struggled to stay on her feet.

  “Sandstorm!” someone yelled.

  Abby put her hand in front of her face for protection and realized that she wore thick gloves and some sort of helmet. Thank heavens the virtual world prepared her with the right equipment.

  “We’re in the Sahara!” Nia guessed.

  “Wrong,” a voice responded. Abby could just make out another figure through the twisting red sand. “I’m your virtual guide and you are far, far from the Sahara. You were right about the sandstorm, though. Here, our sandstorms can cover far more ground and can last for days, even weeks. But, thankfully, I think this one will clear up in a few minutes. At least, that’s what they’ve programmed me to say.”

  Great. A virtual guide with a sense of humor.

  Abby felt a chill. A deep chill. Freezing. Not something she expected in a sandstorm in a desert somewhere.

  “The Gobi,” Malcolm called out. “The Arabian. The Patagonian. The Great Basin.” He knew his deserts.

  “No, no, no, and no. Not really even close,” the guide answered. “The storm is solar-powered; the heat causes the dust to rise, and it almost always originates from a valley. Our best guess is that an asteroid hit there a long time ago.”

  Abby did a quick search for places where asteroids had hit the Earth’s surface. “They think one hit the Yucatan Peninsula, in Arizona, in Argentina, in Chi Li Yang.” She didn’t know where the last place was.

  “You are really far off,” the guide said. “Your first step will give you the greatest clue. Follow me.” Abby could barely see the figure move.

  Abby stepped forward trying to move against the dust. When she braced herself to land again, she still hadn’t. Where was the ground? Was she falling? She came down a second later than she thought she would. With the slightest movement she moved forward some more. “We’re not on Earth,” Abby said.

  “Oh, I know my geography, but not for other planets,” Malcolm said.

  “Look up huge sandstorms in the galaxy,” Maria said.

  “Mars,” Anjum answered. “The sandstorms come from the Hellas Basin and can
cover the entire planet.”

  “For most answers in such a challenge, we would make you be more specific than just the correct planet,” the guide said. “But in this one, we’ll take it. One minute and thirty-seven seconds. Not bad.”

  The chill became more biting. Obviously deserts on Mars did not share the same temperature as deserts on Earth.

  As they moved more, the sandstorm calmed and then abated entirely. Abby caught her first look at the large red planet. The brownish-crimson sand rippled and became hardened in the distance.

  “You are actually moving up Olympus Mons,” the guide said, dressed in a spacesuit. Abby thought he looked familiar. Perhaps it was the face of the boy who made the challenge. “It is the second tallest mountain in the universe. It is three times the height of Everest, but because of its gradual slope, you wouldn’t see that. In fact, when you’re on top, you can’t even really tell you’re that high.”

  “What’s our challenge?” Derick asked.

  “Your challenge is . . .” the guide didn’t finish his sentence.

  “I’m getting a warning sign,” Anjum said. “Something is wrong with my suit.”

  “There it is,” the guide said. “And if his suit tears, the pressure is so low here that the saliva inside him will boil. He will be dead within moments. You have to get him to your rover, which is over there.” The guide pointed off to his left. “And he must be alive. Have fun.”

  “Let’s go,” Anjum said, and took several floaty steps toward the rover.

  The entire group followed. Each step felt clumsy; the air time was longer and they didn’t get as much traction from their feet when they hit the red sand. Abby watched Anjum, carefully looking for any sign of weakness or flaw in his suit. After a few more steps, she caught a glimpse of it. “I think I see the tear in your suit,” she called out. “Look there, on the knee seam.”

  Jess stepped beside Abby. “Could be.”

  “If you keep running,” Abby said, “you might make it worse. And if it leaks, we lose.”