Grave Shadows

by Jerry B. Jenkins

  After lunch and a little rest, we headed down the winding road to Colorado Springs. Pikes Peak stood like a brown soldier to our right. Funny how it looks different from different angles. From our house, Pikes Peak looks long and wide, like you could easily walk up it. From this angle it looked steep and impossible to climb. I’ve heard that the first white people who saw it thought you might die if you tried to get to the top.

  We wound down to Manitou Springs, which also has a lot of artsy shops. The Cog Railway there takes you to the top of Pikes Peak. When we passed the Cave of the Winds, I remembered the first time I had met Jeff. It was on a trip to the Cliff Dwellings, where ancient people had carved their homes right into the rock.

  Jeff had introduced himself to me while I bought an arrowhead necklace in the gift shop. He said he was sorry to hear that my dad had been killed. It had been a few years since it had happened, but it felt good that he said something.

  “We could turn right and go straight up Pikes Peak,” Jeff said, and I turned to see him smiling weakly.

  “Maybe next year,” I said.

  Gary held up a hand in front of us, signaling a turn. We turned left into the entrance to the Garden of the Gods, and the whole group headed for the visitors’ center. Police blocked roads, and cars honked at us. People waved like they knew who we were.

  We stopped in front of one of the huge red rock formations, and everybody got off their bikes. By this time, friends and family members had caught up and wanted to take pictures. Some were crying. I guess remembering loved ones who had died from cancer. Jeff’s parents took photos and shot video.

  Gary came up to me and said, “We still have a little farther to go. You okay?”

  I nodded. I wanted to get back on the bike and help Jeff finish. And I had a good idea of my own to make the end of the trip even more memorable.

  Chapter 71

  Sam came home early from the airport and got us all together for the trip to the Springs. I think it was hard for Mom to have Bryce gone this long without being able to do more than talk on the phone. Dylan had colored Bryce three pictures—though you really couldn’t tell what they were besides crayon circles with eyes and smiling mouths.

  Leigh acted like she didn’t care if she went or stayed, but I suspected she was getting more interested in Jeff’s story and wanted to see how things turned out.

  The trip was originally scheduled to end at the Garden of the Gods, but an e-mail to the families said it would now end at the Olympic training center in downtown Colorado Springs.

  We got there about an hour before the bicyclists were to arrive, and the parking lot was already nearly full. We took our place on Boulder Street and sat on a blanket. It was hard to keep Dylan in one place, so I took him a couple of blocks away to a park.

  I pushed him on the swing set, trying to let him go as high as he wanted. As I kept a close eye on him and urged him to hang on tight, he yelled, “Higher!”

  But then I heard yelling and clapping from the crowd. “Time to go see Bryce,” I said.

  Chapter 72

  We rode out of the Garden of the Gods toward the city. Police blocked traffic, and soon we neared the statue of General Palmer, the man who founded Colorado Springs. Jeff was pedaling now too.

  “We’re going to make it,” he said, panting. “We’re really going to make it.”

  “Two hundred miles,” I said.

  “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  When we reached Boulder Street, I signaled to Gary and everyone pulled to the side. I hopped off and turned to Jeff.

  He looked like he had lost his mother at an amusement park. “What?”

  “You’re taking us home,” I said. “Get in the front.”

  His mouth dropped and he just sat there.

  “Alexander!” Gary shouted. “You’re holding us up.”

  “Yeah, get a move on, Jeff!” someone else said. Others joined in, and Jeff smiled as wide as I’d ever seen him. We traded places.

  Everyone else stayed back as Jeff pulled ahead. Then they fell in behind us. I didn’t have to worry about steering, so I looked back at hundreds of riders who had become my friends over the last four days. We had started as separate riders, and now we had one goal—seeing Jeff finish.

  Police-car lights flashed as they followed our convoy. We headed up Boulder Street, pedaling past people, cars, and more flashing lights. We were getting close.

  Jeff stood to pedal and dipped his head. I could tell he was crying.

  “You okay?” I said.

  “I just wish this wouldn’t end,” he said.

  “Hey, I told you, we’ll do it again next year.”

  Jeff nodded, but we both knew. There would be no next year.

  “Something I want to tell you,” Jeff said as we passed cheering throngs.

  “I’m all ears,” I said.

  “DM will be looking for one last box. You can show it to them.”

  “Who’s DM?” I shouted.

  “Just listen. We’ve been there together only once, but that’s where you’ll find the clue. Go there and you’ll solve the mystery.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

  “I recorded some thoughts on my machine for the last column. Think you could help?”

  “People don’t want to hear from me, Jeff. They want to hear from you.”

  “I’m tired. I’d feel better knowing you could handle this.”

  “Fine, but I’ll need to get Ashley involved. She’s a lot better writer than—”

  “No, I want you to do it. Promise me you’ll do it yourself.”

  “Okay, but the people at the paper will have to work overtime to correct my spelling.”

  Jeff chuckled, then turned to face a sea of people. The other riders came up behind us and made a long line across the road. We heard the clicking and clacking of their bikes and the roar of the crowd.

  Chapter 73

  Dylan and I made it back as the bicycles came into view. Jeff’s parents were at the front of the crowd, holding each other and crying. More people had gathered on either side of the road, and a lot of them had on the same colorful uniforms. Then it hit me—they were real Olympic athletes.

  One of the gold medalists in swimming raced to the other side of the street. He joined the gold medalist in cycling. They strung a paper tape across the street, the kind runners break when they come in first place.

  “Where’s Bryce?” Dylan said.

  “He’s coming,” I said.

  I put Dylan on my shoulders and tried to find a spot where we could see everyone. There was no chanting, no music, no one singing, just steady clapping, whistling, and shouts.

  The news truck with its big satellite dish on top stood at the side of the street, and a cameraman pushed through the crowd.

  “Bryce!” Dylan shouted.

  Jeff was in front, Bryce right behind him, smiling from ear to ear, his fist in the air.

  I found Mom crying, waving, and yelling. Sam’s mustache wrinkled as he smiled and clapped. His whistle was so loud I could tell it a mile away.

  Most surprising was Leigh. She was yelling, “Yay, Bryce! Go, Jeff!” and giving them a thumbs-up, as into it as any of us.

  When Jeff and Bryce broke the tape and passed the finish line, the crowd surrounded them, and a man hoisted Jeff on his shoulders and paraded him around. Someone hung a gold medal around Jeff’s neck, and it looked real.

  I couldn’t imagine a happier moment for Jeff.

  And then something happened.

  Commotion.

  People yelling.

  “Get back! Get back!”

  I swung Dylan down and held his hand.

  There was a siren. An ambulance. They loaded someone inside.

  Jeff.

  Chapter 74

  Everything seemed fine until Jeff crossed the finish line. I could hear him in my helmet—laughing with the Olympic athletes and getting picked up by Gary.

  Then he grabb
ed his head, slumped, and groaned. I yelled, but I could tell no one heard me. Jeff fell when Gary set him down. A TV cameraman crowded in, but I pushed him away. I know the guy was just doing his job, but Jeff needed help. Anyway, I wanted people to see him finishing, not falling.

  Jeff still had his helmet on when they loaded him into the ambulance. Just before they closed the door, he raised his hand and tried to sit up. “Bryce,” he said, his voice weak.

  “Right here,” I said into my microphone.

  “Don’t forget to—”

  The door shut, and all I could hear through his mike were emergency medical technicians removing his helmet, talking to him, and giving him oxygen.

  I found my family, and we rushed to the hospital. Gary and others from the trip showed up in the waiting room. The TV reporter came in and the cameraman. He had long hair and a face like the guys you see on romance book covers.

  “Sorry about pushing you,” I said.

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “I understand. How’s your friend?”

  “Don’t know yet. Did you get a shot of us at the finish line?”

  He smiled. “We were live at five. The sun was streaming down on you guys through the trees—almost like God was smiling at you—and I had a great angle. Probably the best live shot I’ve ever got—except for how things turned out.”

  Everybody looked up as Mr. Alexander came out of the emergency room. “Doctor says it was probably just the excitement,” he said. “At least that’s what he hopes. Jeff passed out on the way here, woke up once, but he’s sleeping now. They’re going to move him to intensive care. That’s all we know. We do want to say how much we appreciate all you’ve done. . . .” Then he broke down, and several moved to comfort him.

  A nurse approached. “Are you Bryce? Mrs. Alexander asked if you’d like to come back.”

  I followed her. The place smelled funny, like everything was too clean. I felt grungy in my riding clothes and carrying my helmet.

  The nurse pulled back a curtain revealing Jeff sleeping, a tube hooked to his arm. It looked painful, but Jeff has been through this before.

  “He asked for you,” Mrs. Alexander said. “Wanted to know what happened to the bike.”

  “Just like him,” I said. “I hadn’t even thought about it.”

  Chapter 75

  We left the hospital when Jeff was moved to the intensive care unit, still asleep.

  “I can’t believe you rode that whole way, Bryce,” Leigh said.

  “I can’t believe Jeff did,” I said.

  At dinner Bryce ate like a starving man. Then we went to his room. He told me what Jeff had said at the end of the ride.

  “Another box?” I said. “Who’s looking for it?”

  “Someone he called DM.”

  “That’s the same thing the guy on the phone said. ‘Tim Minaro with DM.’”

  Bryce shook his head. I told him what I had learned about Gunnar. Bryce wrote Gunnar clues on white cards and memorabilia clues on blue ones. “I don’t see any connection,” he said.

  “But this construction guy, Jeppeson, might have been at the Alexanders’ house. I saw a box in his truck.”

  Bryce scratched his head. “Could Gunnar be involved? If he’s short of money, it could make sense.”

  “How would he have gotten into the house? Everything points to somebody inside.”

  “But it doesn’t seem to be the housekeeper or anybody else we’ve considered,” he said.

  “What about Jeff’s mom and dad? Is there any reason they would ask for your help if they were the ones—?”

  Bryce shook his head. “Nah. This is like one of those word jumbles you do. We have a lot of the letters, but none of them fit.”

  I moved the cards around. The whole thing looked like a jigsaw puzzle with all the pieces the same.

  Someone knocked on the door. “News is coming on,” Leigh said.

  Chapter 76

  I wanted to watch, but I was afraid it might be bad news about Jeff. The report began live outside the Olympic training center.

  The female reporter stood alone, the Olympic circles behind her and flags flying. “Earlier today this street teemed with people congratulating a brave young man and many others who rode their bikes for cancer research. But the finish of the 200-mile ride turned quickly from a dream to a nightmare.”

  The footage showed us in Vail. It felt like 10 years since we had been there. Our route was charted on a map. Then they flashed a picture of Jeff’s column. A spokesman from the cancer research group said they had received a record number of contributions since the trip started.

  “It wasn’t a race, but the young man who dreamed about this grueling bike hike finished first, with the help of a friend.”

  Ashley punched me on the shoulder as the video switched to Jeff and me crossing the finish line. The cameraman was right. The sunshine through the clouds and trees cast a golden glow on the scene.

  The crowd engulfed us, and Jeff rose on Gary’s shoulders.

  “There,” I said. “Right there. Jeff grunts and goes down.”

  They showed the hospital, then Jeff’s mom and dad outside, arm in arm. Mrs. Alexander tearfully thanked everyone who had given money.

  One of the Olympic athletes said, “A lot of people think we’re heroes, but that kid has more courage and determination than anyone.”

  “There’s still no word on Jeff’s condition,” the reporter concluded. “But his parents and friends ask for your prayers.”

  Our phone began ringing, and people asked if we had seen the news. Then another call came, and Sam asked Mom to join him in the kitchen.

  Chapter 77

  I helped Bryce get Dylan ready for bed. Dylan put his arms around Bryce’s neck. “I missed you,” he said, before sticking his thumb in his mouth.

  We headed downstairs, but I stopped when I saw Mom and Sam waiting at the bottom.

  “No,” I said.

  We followed them into the living room, and they turned off the TV.

  Leigh said, “Hey, I was watching that!” But she fell silent when she saw Mom’s and Sam’s faces.

  “That was Jeff’s dad,” Mom said.

  “Is he gone?” Bryce whispered.

  Mom looked at the floor. “No. But his immune system is low. It doesn’t look good.” She put a hand over her mouth.

  Sam took over, his growly voice even lower than usual. “The doctor couldn’t believe he’d made it the whole way. Said he had to have somebody really strong helping him.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Bryce said. Then he whispered, “Todd.” Or maybe “God.” I’d have to ask him about that.

  “I’m sorry,” Sam continued, “but you need to be prepared for the worst.”

  “It’s not fair,” Leigh said. “That kid never did anything to anybody. Why can’t God do something for him?” She looked down, and her hair covered her face.

  Bryce seemed in shock.

  All I could do was pray silently for the doctors, the Alexanders, and Jeff. Then I thanked him that Jeff had Bryce, a friend who stuck close to him through all those miles. It struck me that I rarely prayed about Bryce.

  In the Bible it says something about the prayer of a righteous person having great power and producing wonderful results. I didn’t feel much like a righteous person, and to be honest, I wasn’t asking for a miracle. I just wanted us to somehow get through this awful thing.

  Chapter 78

  I dropped into bed and fell asleep fast. When I woke up I felt like I had been run over by a cement truck. I trudged downstairs and asked Mom if we could visit Jeff.

  “He’s a little better this morning, Bryce. He might even get to come home soon.”

  “Can I call him?”

  “No, not yet. Let’s just see what the day holds.”

  That made me want to find his missing stuff all the more, and I told Ashley we were going to do it before Jeff came back.

  “Let’s go to the school and see if we can find that Jeppeson gu
y,” she said.

  I still didn’t see the connection, but Jeff had said we should give DM the last box—that I could show it to them. And that we’d been there once together.

  “If we find out what DM stands for,” she said, “we’ll solve this thing.”

  The middle school still had a big tarp covering something. Ashley pointed. “That’s Jeppeson’s truck.”

  We were heading across the parking lot toward it when my cell phone rang. It was Mom, and she seemed to be fighting to keep from crying. “I need you to come home,” she said.

  “Why?” I said. “What’s wrong?”

  Sam’s voice came on. “Bryce, just come home.”

  Chapter 79

  It was a long ride. Bryce rode ahead of me, zigzagging on his ATV through the field near our house. I tried to think of anything it could be other than Jeff.

  Minutes later we were in the living room. Mom and Sam sat next to each other on the couch. Sam rubbed his arms, not looking at either of us. Mom stared through cloudy eyes.

  Bryce tossed his helmet on a chair.

  “Sit,” Mom said, patting the couch.

  I sat next to her, and she wrapped her arms around me.

  Bryce just stood there looking like he wanted to run, to be anywhere but here. “Tell us,” he said.

  Sam cleared his throat and looked at the floor. “The Alexanders thought Jeff was coming out of it, but he’s taken a turn.”

  Bryce screwed up his face. “Just tell me!”

  Mom sat forward. “They don’t think it will be much longer, hon.”

  Leigh appeared at the top of the stairs with Dylan, tears in her eyes.

  I buried my face in Mom’s arms.

  “I want to go see him,” Bryce said.