Friend or Foe

by Jody Feldman

  Zane dashed away, working silently. The others, now using his method, kept calling him the Raincoat Genius until Josh switched to His Muteness. Zane was just saving his breath.

  After his fifth trip, the water level had risen enough to reveal a bucket floating on the surface. And after his tenth, he could make out a laminated card inside the bucket that was about three feet below the laser line. Puzzle #3. He ran back and refilled. “About six more trips,” he said, overtaking Leore and Josh on their way to the waterfall.

  Zane closed in on the well again, but why were Ryder’s raincoat and bucket on the ground? And why were his feet in the air and his belly on the well’s—

  Zane dropped his bucket and shot over. “Ryder!” Zane lunged and caught an inch of his T-shirt. But it slipped out of his hands. “Stop!”

  Bzzz!

  Ryder rocked to his feet and glared at Zane. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Didn’t you see the blue laser? You can’t reach in.”

  “Who said?” Ryder raised his face to the rafters. “Don’t tell me there’s a penalty.”

  Why hadn’t Zane warned them about the light? “There’s always a penalty.”

  “What? Like two minutes?” Ryder said.

  Josh came racing up. “What’d you do? Contaminate the well?”

  “Worse.” Zane pointed down. The laser beam was now at the top of the well. “But it’s okay.”

  Leore pulled up and sighed. “I heard. Even more water?”

  “More water,” said Zane. He looked at her. Dared her to be the voice of doom and gloom.

  “Then I guess that’s all we can do,” she said.

  “Exactly. Go!” Zane didn’t think he could move any faster, but he almost lapped the other three on his fourth trip. He may not have been in two-a-days, but this was probably the hardest series of wind sprints he’d ever run.

  Back, forth, back, forth. Back, and the rest of them were standing there. “We just need yours,” said Leore.

  Zane poured it in, and the water cleared the line. “Take it, Ryder.”

  Chapter 28

  Ryder was still trying to free the puzzle envelope from some sort of impossible shrink-wrap when Bill hopped over on a pogo stick. “Messing up, Ryder? Yowza!”

  “Don’t rub it in.”

  “Good news, though,” Bill said. “I’m not going to Paris yet. The other team, well, I’ll just say . . . embarrassing! You still have a chance.” He jumped off.

  While the others wrestled with the Foe-mode shrink-wrap, Zane went in search of a knife or scissors. It took him two seconds to stop looking for the needle in a haystack. But if he unscrewed one of the raincoat hooks from the closet, it—

  The screw did have a pointed end! Zane ran the hook over just as Josh had managed to claw and bite the thing open.

  “What’s it say already?” Ryder asked Josh.

  The guy needed to slow down.

  “Makes no sense, like something I’d write.” Josh held it out.

  A corny of my father’s was given the potion of either raising toters (the river mammals that glide through murky waters), dyeing them with satin, or even signing about them.

  “What’s a corny, anyway?” said Josh.

  “I think it’s a typo,” said Leore.

  “A type o’ what?” said Josh.

  “No. A typo, an error,” she said. “The word should probably be ‘crony.’”

  “Like a witch?” Ryder asked.

  “I can’t believe your jokes!” She shook her head. Zane, though, had been thinking the same thing and not in a joking way.

  “A crone is a witch. A crony is an old friend.”

  “I’m still confused,” Ryder said. “Even if you fix the typo, it says the friend was given a potion that would raise some sort of animals from the dead or something and cover them with satin or maybe sing about them instead.”

  “It’s not sing,” Leore said. “It says ‘signing,’ maybe like in sign language, but wait.” She pulled Ryder’s hand closer, then took the card from his grasp.

  “So he’s going to learn animal sign language?” Josh said.

  Zane stayed quiet. If he’d learned nothing else from football, he knew to respect the guy with the talent. Let him work his magic. Or today, her magic. Leore pulled a pen from her pocket and underlined some of the words in the sentence.

  A corny of my father’s was given the potion of either raising toters (the river mammals that glide through murky waters), dyeing them with satin, or even signing about them.

  “I’m not certain these are technically typos. They seem deliberate.”

  Ryder was kind of jumping his shoulders. “Get to the point.”

  Zane put a hand on his arm and nodded at Leore.

  “Without the mistakes, this could say, ‘A crony of my father’s was given the option of either raising otters (the river mammals that glide through murky waters), dyeing them with stain, or even singing about them,’ which does make sense in an odd sort of way.”

  “So now what?” said Ryder.

  “Now we see our choices.” Josh moved to a glowing silver table.

  “That seriously wasn’t there before,” Zane said.

  “It wasn’t,” said Josh. “It sort of rose from the dead. Or the floor.”

  On the table was only one package, the retro three-pack from the Golly ServiceLegend Series. And it was bound in the same shrink-wrap.

  Zane pulled the hook from his pocket. “I’ve got it this time.” He ran the point of the screw as parallel as possible to one edge of the big square box until it made a small tear. He dropped the hook and pried the plastic open with his fingers and his teeth. Inside: Cavalry Cavalcade, Renegade Rangers, and Tango Troop.

  “Cool!” said Ryder. “My grandfather still has these. When he was a kid, his favorite was the Cool Canadians of the Cavalry Cavalcade. But he and his brothers used to argue over who was tougher—them or the Rough Riders of the Renegade Rangers or the Military Men of Tango Troop.”

  “Thank you for the history lesson, Sir Whistle Blower,” said Josh.

  Ryder glared at him.

  Leore didn’t appear to let the joke or the tension derail her. She kept writing the corrected words with their typos:

  corny portion toters satin signing

  crony option otters stain singing

  “Now what?” Zane asked.

  “I’m thinking either the wrong letters or the corrected ones will spell the answer.” She scribbled the wrong typo letters: OR, PO, TO, AT, GN.

  “Are those all the letters in Tango Troop?” said Zane.

  Leore scribbled some more. “There!”

  RO OP OT TA NG

  Ta/ng/o T/ro/op

  Zane hugged her. “You are amazing.” He wanted to add, “Just stop being so negative,” but it wasn’t the right time, it wasn’t the right place, and he wasn’t the right person. Anyway, Ryder had the box open.

  Stunt #3

  * * * * * * * * * * *

  Tango Troop has set the target. Demolish the airfield to cripple the enemy.

  Your ammo? You already loaded it into the train.

  Your destination? Look up.

  X marks the spot.

  It had to be on one of those crisscrossing pathways. “But how do we get up there?”

  Ryder pivoted. “This way!”

  “Wait!” Zane said. “We need the ammo first!” He grabbed his raincoat and bolted back to the train. Their fourteen objects were still there. They weren’t heavy, but they’d be bulky. And the others still looked gassed from running the buckets.

  Zane dropped the raincoat to the ground. “Pile a bunch of them on here. I’ll take as many as it’ll hold; you guys carry the rest. Which way, Ryder?”

  “This way!” He had them backtracking past the waterfall, probably saving a few of the minutes he’d lost them at the well. “I saw a spiral staircase when we were looking for the first thing. Whatever it was. It seems so long ago.”

  “Seriously?” Josh s
aid. “You can’t remember?”

  “Remember what?” said Ryder.

  Zane wished they’d save their breaths and run faster, but it would be counterproductive to waste his and tell them. If he were coaching, though, they’d hear it after the game.

  Two tight and winding staircases came into view, one marked with a gold X, and theirs with the silver. Zane leaped past Ryder to go up first and check it out. Even if that saved only one second, that second could make a difference.

  Their stairs continued about a story higher than the gold one’s. At the top, at least three stories up, the bird’s-eye view was probably fascinating. Zane ignored it, but hoped Team Gold was so complacent, they’d stopped to sightsee.

  He ran down a caged-in pathway with the raincoat slung over his shoulder like Santa Claus hopping over rooftops. The path led across the entire width of the warehouse floor, took a hairpin turn, and came back the other way. His teammates, single file, were only halfway down the first path. Maybe Zane should have lagged, inspiring them to move faster. This way, though, he could have a strategy in place when they got there.

  The path took another hairpin turn. Below, and at a distance, he could make out Team Gold looking over the side. What was their advantage here besides being one level closer? Fewer targets to hit?

  Another turn, and Zane reached a domed platform—a cage, really—five yards by three yards, made of clear plastic, and with a view to the ground that buckled his knees for a moment. Its walls had basketball-sized holes every six inches. Zane stuck his head through one of them.

  Below was an airfield that had circles numbered one through eight. He brought his head back in and saw a huge toy chest. Inside were massive amounts of water balloons and a card lying on top. The three others pulled up as he was reading it.

  Your mission: Strike all eight targets within the circles.

  Your ammo: The fourteen objects you carried here.

  Your auxiliary ammo: Water balloons.

  Your instructions: Each of you must hit two targets. First, use the objects from the train. You may all drop at the same time if you wish. If they strike fully within the eight circles, mission complete. If not, you must strike any missed targets with three water balloons each. Water balloons may only be dropped one at a time.

  GO!!!

  “Let’s drop ’em!” said Ryder.

  “Absolutely!” Zane said.

  “Bombs away!” said Josh.

  Zane dropped the pinwheel, which drifted far off course, then the cupcake, which almost landed inside, but the lighthouse was a direct strike. The circle turned red. “Got it!”

  One down.

  “Ah!” said Josh. “So close.”

  “Me, too,” said Ryder.

  Zane turned and grabbed the only thing left, the flower. He didn’t even stop to see where it landed. Time for water balloons.

  “Woo-hoo!” shouted Ryder. “She got it with the apple butter.”

  “Stop looking,” Zane said. “Load up with balloons, but only one person drops at a time.”

  “Does that mean we need to wait until they hit?”

  “Didn’t say,” Zane said. “But we can’t risk penalties. I’m dropping now because I’m ready. Then Ryder, Josh, and Leore last, because she only needs one more target, too.” His first balloon hit on the number seven’s outline, but the water nearly covered the entire target.

  “Do you suppose that counts?” Leore asked.

  “We’ll see when it lights up.”

  Ryder’s struck dead center on number one.

  “Josh, wait,” said Zane. “Go again, Ryder. You have the aim nailed.”

  The second one was off center a little, and his third hit near the edge, but apparently that was good enough. It lit up red. Three targets, done!

  Josh missed with his first.

  “But I know where to go now,” he said. “I’m dropping again.”

  That one was close, but his third was dead-on. That was the way to do it. They fed him three more balloons until target number two was bathed in red.

  Leore was ready to go with hers. She missed the first and the second, but her third, fourth, and fifth were dead center.

  “You’re done!” Zane said, and dropped above the number seven target that was still wet from his first balloon. Direct hit! Same with balloon number three.

  “Ryder, you’re up!” He dropped one. Missed. Two, hit. Three—

  Trumpets sounded. Lights flashed. A platform rose.

  On it, Elijah, Becky, Hanna, and Berk were jumping and fist-pumping and hugging and shouting.

  Chapter 29

  Leore slunk to the ground and hid her face on her knees. Ryder and Josh mumbled and turned away. All Zane could do was watch the celebration.

  Team Gold’s platform nearly reached the glass ceiling before a group of people in black Spider-Man–like suits rushed on. Within a minute, the platform fell away, and Elijah, Becky, Hanna, and Berk were hang gliding around the warehouse, shrieking and laughing.

  Zane had had enough. He doubled over, hands on his knees, head down. Even when they’d been forced into Foe mode, even when the water line had risen, Zane had never imagined they’d lose, not until the horns sounded.

  At least he’d battled to the end. He wouldn’t look like a fool on TV when they showed the losers—no, they weren’t losers—the losing team. And he wouldn’t turn into a weeping, sulking, object-kicking mess.

  Zane straightened. He gathered the other three, who did look like the losing teams he’d seen. “I need to say something.” He took a deep breath. “Probably no one bet we’d come close.”

  Josh pointed at Ryder. “Especially after—”

  Zane grabbed his finger and forced it down. “We’re not doing that. I could blame myself for not saying anything about the laser line in the well. We all can blame ourselves for something, but it will never change the fact that we have a lot to be proud of. We almost made it. And, yes, almost isn’t good enough, but here, now, we can walk back into our normal lives knowing we gave this a real shot.”

  Zane felt a pair of hands clench his shoulder. “I swear this guy’s gonna steal my job.” Bill turned him around and gave him a big hug.

  Then he hugged each of the others. “Can I tell you a secret? Not that I wanted you to lose, but I’m happy to go to Paris. Carol really, really wanted to go there, and if you think she’s all bubbly now, you should see her when she’s really giddy.”

  And there she was, running toward them, smiling, but not giddy.

  Zane gave a “what’re you gonna do?” shrug, and she nodded. “I need to tell you, Silver Team. When Golly approached us with Friend or Foe, maybe three of us thought Team Foe would stand a chance. And even though a close loss can sting more than a bad one”—and she looked directly at Zane—“that close call is going to make you heroes in your hometowns and even beyond.

  “So when you leave here, hold your heads high, take advantage of those bragging rights, and enjoy your winnings—three thousand dollars—”

  “Three thousand?” said Ryder. “Woo-hoo!”

  Three thousand wasn’t life changing, but three thousand dollars? “Oh, yeah!”

  Carol hugged each of them, then she and Bill herded them from the platform to the pathway, but stopped abruptly and had them turn back. Team Silver’s clear dome was opening at the top and folding underneath the platform. One by one, the hang gliders hovered, then landed there.

  Zane rushed over to Elijah. “Way to go, buddy!”

  Elijah’s face went tight, then exploded with giggles. “Sorry,” he managed.

  “No,” said Zane. “It’s good.”

  “It’s the relief after the scare,” Elijah said. “Our egos were enormous until we had the two mess-ups and saw you’d pulled nearly even with the water balloons.”

  Becky shook her head. “We could’ve put you guys away early, but it wasn’t easy for some of us to focus.” She glared directly at Berk.

  “What?” he said. “I wanted to
kill ’em from the beginning.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Hanna said. “You all were amazing.”

  “We still lost,” Leore said, huddled on the ground again. But then she lifted her face. “But we did try. We tried very hard.”

  “Absolutely.” Zane leaned down and almost gave her a “way to go” backslap, but remembered she wasn’t in football pads. He patted her shoulder instead.

  Then he pulled Elijah toward him. “You’re gonna be incredible. And I will be right here, cheering you on.”

  “I’d be cheering you if the roles were reversed, assuming that’s allowed.”

  Zane turned to Carol. “We can watch, can’t we?”

  She shook her head. “Not exactly.”

  “You’re kicking us out?”

  “First, there’s lunch.”

  “Then you’re kicking us out?”

  Bill shook his head. “We need you to stick around a little longer.”

  “For what?”

  Bill smiled. “Let’s go eat.”

  They wound down two of the ramps—Team Gold dancing around Carol, and Team Silver hovering around Bill—then into a huge and previously hidden elevator.

  “About lunch,” Carol said. “We’re breaking with tradition. First, you’re all eating together. Second, there’ll be a viewing area with early Games highlights for you. Check it out.”

  No, thanks. Not now.

  “Finally, about the obscene display of food we’ve become famous for? We’ve scaled it back significantly.”

  “To what? Bread and water?” said Josh.

  “There’ll be a little more than that,” said Bill. “It’s just that all our past contestants, excluding one who is not here today, have told us it’s too much between rounds.”

  “How many did we need to wake from food comas, Bill?”

  “Four? Five?” He laughed. “We promise we’ll feed you very well after this last round.”