The Impossible Race: Cragbridge Hall, Volume 3

by Chad Morris

  “Somehow, I don’t think movie rules apply here,” Malcolm said.

  Fire burst out of the opening again. Smoke followed, rising from the roof of the cave. Rafa was poised by the side of the opening, his sword raised, ready to make a surprise attack.

  “How did Beowulf defeat it?” Anjum asked, his voice impatient.

  “We’re getting there,” Derick said, still searching on his rings.

  More flame shot out of the cave before a black head covered in scales emerged from the darkness. A puff of smoke trailed upward out of its nostrils. The head alone was the size of a sedan. Its yellow eyes glared, standing out in sharp contrast to the beast’s dark, scaly exterior. But what was more, those eyes looked wild, maybe rabid.

  Reacting, the entire group retreated farther into the trees, holding up their shields until they were far out of the range of the flames.

  Rafa froze.

  With each step, more of the beast’s long neck emerged, the underside a dirty gray. Finally the body was close enough to the entrance to see. It filled the cave. It had to be the size of a building, a pattern of scales and thick tendrils covering its chest. Its feet dug into the ground with talons like swords. Derick exhaled, not realizing that he had been holding his breath.

  Rafa did not wait for more advice. He bolted from his place and sliced where the dragon’s neck met its body. His sword clashed against the scales.

  The beast roared. Though the blow did little damage, the dragon wasn’t invincible. A small trail of thick blue blood oozed out where Rafa had hit.

  In one swift motion, the dragon swung its long neck. Its head slammed into Rafa, knocking him off his feet. Rafa grunted as he hit the hard ground. He was barely able to raise his shield in time to protect himself from the assault of flame that followed.

  Derick gawked. The beast had already been intimidating before he saw how quickly it could react, let alone the charring flames. Now it seemed nearly invincible, a creature that could annihilate anything or anyone.

  The dragon stomped fully out of his home as he continued to bellow out fire at his attacker. Thankfully, Rafa’s shield protected him well. It must have been made to withstand such an attack, made for a dragon slayer.

  A trail of spikes jutted out from the dragon’s spine and tail. Its wings bore sharp spikes as well and unfolded to a length of over half a basketball court.

  For a brief moment, the flames ended. The dragon had to breathe in between attacks.

  “Move, Rafa,” Anjum yelled. “Try to stay behind it, where it can’t see you—or move as quickly against you.”

  Rafa immediately raced toward the back of the dragon. The beast’s huge jaws clamped down where Rafa had been only a fraction of a second before. Rafa weaved behind it and barely dodged a strike from its large tail. He thought quickly enough to jab with his sword as he went and caused a few more gashes. He was doing amazingly well under the circumstances.

  All that aside, it didn’t seem like Rafa was coming close to being able to slay the dragon. It was more of a desperate attempt to stay alive.

  “What do I do?” Rafa yelled, trying to double back so he wasn’t face to face with the beast.

  Derick looked back at his summary through his rings. “Uh,” he mumbled, then he scanned words he didn’t want to believe. “He dies.”

  “What?” Rafa yelled.

  “Beowulf dies.” Derick broke the terrible news. “I haven’t read the end yet, but it’s already telling me that this is Beowulf’s final battle and he won’t escape with his life. He might still beat the dragon, but I don’t think it ends well for him.” If the beast took down a legendary hero, how was Rafa supposed to succeed?

  The dragon lunged, spinning toward Rafa. The Brazilian leaped backwards, but one of the dragon’s razor teeth slit across his arm. Rafa screamed and fell, clutching his wound. He raised his shield in time to again avoid being cooked alive.

  Derick read as fast as he could. There had to be something, some sort of clue. They wouldn’t have made a challenge that couldn’t be won.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dragon beat his mighty wings. The gust of wind flipped Rafa onto his side. The beast lunged again, and Rafa rolled out of the way.

  Derick found it. At first he didn’t realize what it meant, but then it dawned on him. He grabbed his sword and screamed, running right at the dragon, the magnificent beast of terror. His legs pushed him forward, his mind wanting to turn and race back the other way. With every step he came closer to the talons and spikes and teeth and flame. The dragon turned in time for Derick to catch its lowered head with his sword. The steel rang and bounced off the scales more than Derick expected, but it also left another gash.

  The dragon raised up on its back legs and roared, its wings outstretched. Derick bolted. “Beowulf only defeated the dragon because his friend came to help,” Derick yelled. “Even after Beowulf told him not to.”

  Derick looked back as he sprinted. It was as though he stared at death; a flood of fire swept toward him. Derick raised his shield just in time to keep the flames from engulfing him. His hands burned as the shield got hotter and hotter. He could feel his skin searing, even under his gloves. He clenched his teeth and bellowed out in pain and determination.

  When the fire paused, Derick’s shield was a melted mess of what it had been. Apparently, his was not as strong as the one Rafa had. His was not meant for facing dragons.

  Rafa attacked from the other side, jabbing his sword between the scales in the dragon’s side. Derick had distracted it long enough.

  But the dragon didn’t fall. It roared and turned on Rafa, who raced to get out of the way.

  Derick slashed again.

  An arrow flew through the air and bore into the back of the dragon’s head.

  Malcolm lumbered in from the side, booming out a battle cry. It was like he came barreling in for a tackle, but instead used all his force to spear the dragon in the leg. The beast thundered. Malcolm yelled back, caught up in the competition.

  Anjum rushed up the dragon’s leg and drove his sword in under its arm. Derick could hardly believe his quickness and agility. Anjum leaped to safety before the dragon could turn. He really was impressive.

  More arrows flew.

  “We figured if you could come help, so could we,” Nia said, launching another arrow. Abby and Carol were doing the same, though Abby still hadn’t improved her marksmanship from the labyrinth.

  The beast whirled its mighty head and breathed fire in every direction. The Spartans ducked and dove, trying to find cover.

  “Maria, to the top of the cliff,” Anjum commanded. “Nia, attack the tail. And I’ll distract it.”

  Anjum screamed at the beast, waving his hands. Then he barreled right at it. Derick had charged the beast, but this was different. Anjum had its attention. He was squaring off against it, knowing it was focused and ready to attack back with all its strength. Intense.

  The beast flew only a few feet, then slammed down next to Anjum. The wind knocked the student from India backward, and with a swipe of its talons, Anjum cried out and fell.

  Everyone attacked at once, coming to their leader’s aid. Maria had enough time to get several feet up the cliff and then she leaped onto the dragon’s back. She moved with all the grace of a dancer, but a deadly one. She drove her swords in between the dragon’s scales.

  Derick swung against it again and again. Rafa tried to stab it with the sharp edge of his shield. Nia, Carol, and Abby moved in closer and rifled arrows at the dragon’s head. Malcolm pushed again on his spear, driving it deeper into its leg, while Piper came in with another stab.

  Finally, the great dragon reared back and fell to the earth.

  Me? Or Me?

  All of the Spartans erupted in cheers—in exhausted, but victorious cheers—as the world faded. They had just done what had felt impossible; they had defeated a dragon.

  One more round left.

  But nothing happened. No other world came into view.
>
  “Isn’t there supposed to be one more challenge?” Derick asked.

  “Yes,” Anjum said, still winded from the battle with the dragon. “This is strange.”

  “I guess they’re having technical difficulties,” Nia said.

  “Or not,” Abby said. “This may be the last challenge. We’re in the virtual booths in Cragbridge Hall.”

  “That is correct,” a voice said. “Now for the final challenge, join your leader in the large virtual booth on the auditorium stage.”

  “Go! Go! Go!” Anjum screamed.

  Derick shot out of his booth, seeing the others do the same. It was a bit more cumbersome to run in the suit he had to use for the virtual booths, but he tore down the hallway as fast as he could. Security guards and bots lined the halls—a reminder that they were being watched very carefully, that there was more than a simple competition at stake.

  Abby was several yards ahead, her runner’s legs carrying her faster. Derick glanced back to see Malcolm lumbering in the rear. He was big and the slowest of the bunch, but still rather fast. Rafa was also behind Derick. Normally, he would be close to the lead. He was probably worn out from fighting the dragon.

  They burst through the open doors to a packed auditorium of students. The crowd erupted in screams and applause. Whoever designed this ending knew how to create excitement. It seemed that the whole school was on their feet stomping and cheering.

  It only fed their energy. Derick rushed up the aisle and leaped onto the stage. Several small booths lined the outside, but one large booth stood in the center, big enough to fit the entire team. One by one they filed into the large virtual booth in the center. Anjum was already there, cowering against the back corner. The whole team had come to him.

  They closed the door, the sound of the crowd dimming outside of their box.

  That meant they were in the lead, right? They were the first team in. Or was this it? Was just getting here the end?

  Everything went quiet. The team waited in the dark.

  The inside of the booth lit up with a minotaur, and then Derick with a sword. At first Derick thought he was under attack again, but realized he was seeing highlight footage from the labyrinth challenge. The next image showed the team rushing Anjum back to their rover on Mars. Abby ran across campus for the last square in the first challenge. Highlight after highlight appeared all around them. Though muffled, they could hear the crowd returning to their screams. The same images must have been portrayed in the auditorium as well.

  “Congratulations!” Landon’s voice came in strong, “to the winning team of the 2075 Race—the Spartans!”

  They had done it.

  Derick high-fived Rafa, who was smiling bigger than he had ever seen. Malcolm hugged them both and Derick thought his lungs would burst. He looked over at Abby, who had tears in her eyes. They had worked hard, had given their all, and they had done it. As soon as Malcolm let go, Derick hugged his sister.

  “We wanted them to experience their win as a team, in virtual reality,” Sarah explained. She showed on a screen inside the booth. “We also wanted a way to congratulate them one by one. We’ll have each of them step out, take a bow, and you can applaud their great work. Then they can open the box to gain the key . . .” Her voice faded, as did the team’s view inside the booth. After a few moments, the crowd began to murmur.

  “I believe,” a voice said, and then a virtual version of Mr. Silverton appeared in the booth, bald and pudgy, “you were told that at the end of this challenge, the winners would learn a secret. I promised you that.” What was happening? How was Mr. Silverton’s image coming across the virtual booth? Had he escaped?

  But the image changed to Mrs. Flink, with her bushy red hair and standing shorter than Mr. Silverton. “Or was it me? Did I promise a secret?” It changed to Mr. Sul. “Or me?” Then Chief Shar. “Or me?” Whoever was doing this had recreated all of the prime suspects virtually. What did it mean?

  “At any rate,” the virtual Mr. Silverton said, smiling through his dark beard, “you have tried hard, worked together, and not given up.” Derick didn’t believe this was a compliment. Virtual Chief Shar returned. “As promised, I will tell you more. I have sent you the message, but I might as well tell it while I’m here.”

  Derick watched as the changing virtual narrators told the greatest and most dangerous secret he had ever heard and that he had risked his life to protect. He double-checked to make sure that those outside couldn’t also hear it. It seemed to be a conversation just for the winners, but his heart still raced. Derick surveyed the faces of the team. Thankfully, they knew this already.

  “Some in this very virtual room have keys to control time,” the virtual people inside the booth said. “And to those who don’t, I’m at least partially sorry that you are caught in this dangerous game.” There it was. That sounded like something Muns would say. “You should have chosen your teammates better. I’m afraid you’ll suffer for it.”

  Derick looked at his team, their faces filled with questions and fear.

  “You see.” It was back to Mr. Silverton. “Those with keys had to pass through challenges to earn the secret, and I made them pass challenges to try to protect it. In the past, they used avatars to take back what I had stolen. So I had them use robots, which are also avatars, to steal something for me. And in the past, Abby and her friends rescued the hostages I took. So now you are the hostages. This booth is locked tight. You cannot get out.”

  Immediately, Malcolm tried the steel door to the booth. It wouldn’t budge. Rafa joined him and they slammed into it together. Nothing.

  “I have another secret I need to share with you.” Now it was virtual Landon. “And I think it’s time to let everyone in on this conversation.”

  “Everyone in the auditorium can see him now,” Nia reported, checking her rings.

  The image switched. It now showed a device, small, like a vial. “This is an interesting contraption,” a voice said. There were no longer changing images. “I know, I know. You think Chief Shar stole them and the police got them back. Well, I took the liberty of switching out at least one with a very believable copy. I’m good at switching things out with fakes. I did the same thing with Mrs. Flink’s key.”

  Derick’s heart beat faster. The vial was here, and whoever was behind all this was definitely free and still in charge.

  “So that leads us here.” The screens still showed the vial. “When it explodes, a cloud of tranquilizer will cover this school. I took the liberty of using chemicals from the school. I stole them the same way I did to frame Mr. Silverton. I couldn’t have him double-checking my messages. I used a robot, similar to the kind I framed Mr. Sul for trying to steal. I couldn’t have any more of his nosy questions. And this device will explode with such force that if anyone is nearby, they likely won’t survive.”

  The voice paused a moment, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. “So, I thought I’d do you the favor of not telling you where it is. If it is outside, it will seep into every building. Or if it is inside, it will create such pressure that it will explode windows and doors and creep outside. But it does not blow away or fade for weeks. Unless you evacuate, everyone in the school will be comatose for months.”

  Derick shook his head. How could they have ever seen this coming?

  “Right now,” the voice continued, the vial still displayed on the screen and in the virtual booth, “as you can see, it is timed to explode in thirty minutes.” A screen on the vial counted down the time. “It is somewhere here on the Cragbridge Hall campus.” The last image faded and a different voice remained in blackness. “I believe it’s time for everyone to go.”

  Derick heard the chaos of screaming and shouting. Whatever Muns’s plan was, it involved evacuating everyone.

  “Except, of course, for you,” virtual Mr. Sul said to those inside the booth. This part was obviously meant for only them. “Now it’s your turn to be the hostages. No one can get you out. When the bomb goes off, the gas
will seep into this container through any creases and hinges and when you wake, Charles Muns will have your keys and all power over time.” The image of Mr. Sul laughed. “I also locked in the teachers and the Cragbridges in the medical unit. I thought it fitting that they should join you.”

  Pounding

  The Spartans pounded on the doors several times, but they didn’t budge.

  Outside of the booth, a security officer spoke into the microphone on her rings, which amplified her voice. “Stay calm, but evacuate quickly. Do not return to dorms or rooms. Leave the premises immediately. I repeat: Do not return to your dorms or rooms. Leave the premises immediately.” Other security guards tried the door to the booth from the outside. They needed to get everyone outside the school.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Maria said. She kicked at the sturdy door and winced.

  “I really don’t like this Muns guy,” Malcolm said, panting from all his effort against the door. “And if my mama knew about him, he would get such an earful he wouldn’t be able to see straight.”

  “He has us trapped,” Abby said, her stomach sinking.

  “And if it wasn’t for you guys getting us into this,” Maria said, pointing at Derick and Rafa, “we’d be safely walking out of here like everybody else.”

  “We didn’t know this would happen,” Rafa defended. “We were trying to . . .”

  “But you knew this was dangerous,” Maria snipped back.

  “Your lives were probably already on the line,” Piper said. “But now ours are too.”

  “Did you want us just to sit back and do nothing?” Derick yelled. Perhaps it came out more powerful than he had intended. “Should I have stopped and decided someone else would take care of it? That I’m just a kid and I should let the adults deal with it?”

  They didn’t have a response. Abby looked at her brother, his eyes still glaring intensely.