The Never War

by D. J. MacHale

  I hoped to see a police car screaming to our rescue, but instead saw a black car flying off the street, out of control, headed right for the group of gangsters! The thugs scattered like bowling pins as the car nearly plowed into them. The wild car didn’t stop. With its horn blaring, it skidded past the fleeing gangsters and blasted right toward us. The gangsters got themselves back together and now took aim at the careening car. They unleashed their shotguns, this time shattering the car’s back window.

  But the demon car kept coming.

  We had no idea what to do. Was this crazy person going to slam into the truck? We couldn’t run or the gangsters would start shooting at us. All we could do was watch and get ready to dive out of the way. The driver accelerated right for our hiding place, then spun the wheel at the last second, barely missing the truck. The car skidded sideways, then the wheels got traction and the vehicle charged forward. A second later it wheeled around to our side of the truck and slowed down. Who was this crazy driver?

  “Get in!” shouted Gunny from the driver’s seat.

  Spader and I didn’t hesitate. We both ran for the car and dove into the backseat. Gunny never stopped. He only slowed down long enough for us to get in.

  “Go!” I shouted before we got the door closed.

  Gunny punched the gas, the wheels spit gravel, and Spader and I were thrown back in the seat. But we weren’t safe yet. Two more explosions sounded, and the doors of the car were slammed with shot.

  “Stay down!” Gunny commanded. He didn’t need to. Spader and I were already down on the floor with all the shattered glass from the rear window. Three more shots were fired, but this time, only one hit the car. We were moving quickly out of range. Gunny bumped over a curb, skidded into a turn, and sped us away from the ugly scene. A few seconds later Spader and I got the guts up to peek out of the back window.

  Through the shattered glass we saw the burning slaughterhouse falling away in the distance. We had made it. We were safe, thanks to Gunny.

  Spader and I both let out a huge yelp of joy. “Gunny, yeah!” “Hobey-ho!” “You saved us!”

  Gunny turned back to us. His eyes were wide with fear. He may have just coolly executed an incredibly daring rescue, but it scared him half to death. “I don’t want to do anything like that ever, ever again,” he said with a shaky voice. “My heart is trying to bust out of my chest.”

  “Slow down,” I said. “We made it.”

  Gunny took his foot off the gas and slowed the car to a normal speed. I saw that his hands were shaking at the wheel. “This is gonna cost me my job, you know,” he said nervously.

  “Why, mate?” asked Spader.

  “This car belongs to the hotel manager, Mr. Caplesmith. What’s he gonna say when he sees I got it all shot up?”

  I’m embarrassed to say that Spader and I both laughed. We didn’t mean to, but it was just so…funny. What was a shot-up car compared to what we had just been through?

  Gunny said, “I don’t see anything funny about it at all!”

  “I’m sorry, Gunny,” I said. “You’re right. It’s not funny.”

  Spader added, “Thanks for being there, mate. We owe you.”

  “You owe me a new car is what you owe me,” Gunny said. He then laughed too. He was starting to relax. He looked at us through the rearview mirror and winced. “You two all right? You look like you touched toes with the devil himself.”

  “That’s exactly what happened,” Spader said.

  “We found Saint Dane,” I said. “Or should I say, he found us.”

  Gunny gripped the wheel tighter. “He have something to do with burning that slaughterhouse?”

  “In a way,” I answered. “Winn Farrow is the one who lit the match though.”

  “He burned his own place down?” Gunny asked, confused.

  “He’s planning something,” I said. “They’ve got these fireworks that explode in a ball of fire, and he’s going to use them on Max Rose.”

  “It’s all about revenge,” Spader added.

  An idea hit me. “The hotel!” I exclaimed. “The Manhattan Tower. If he shot one of those rockets up to the penthouse, it would be all over for Rose.”

  “That’s it!” Spader shot back. “It must be. He’s going to torch the hotel. He could do it with one of those fire nasties, easy.”

  “We should evacuate the building,” I said, getting excited. “And tell the police. They can protect the place and—”

  “It’s not the hotel he’s after,” Gunny said calmly.

  Spader and I both fell silent. “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “Because I found out about LZ-one-twenty-nine,” Gunny answered with no emotion.

  Spader and I were both stunned speechless. Gunny had just casually announced that he had found the critical piece to the puzzle. I had almost forgotten about it. The mysterious LZ-129. We both looked at him. Gunny stared ahead, focused on the road. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “So? Are you going to tell us?” I asked.

  “What was it that letter said, Pendragon?” Gunny asked me. “You know, the one with the Nazi symbol on it.”

  I thought back to the letter from Ludwig Zell to Max Rose that I had committed to memory. “It said that payment would be coming to Max Rose on May sixth via LZ-one-twenty-nine,” I answered.

  Gunny nodded and said, “Whatever Max Rose did for the Nazis, he’s going to get his payment tomorrow, and it’s coming by LZ-one-twenty-nine. If Winn Farrow really wanted to hurt Max Rose, he could stop him from getting that payment.”

  “That’s what Farrow said,” exclaimed Spader. “He was going to hit Rose where it hurts the most.”

  “So what is LZ-one-twenty-nine?” I asked, getting impatient.

  “I saw it in the newspaper today,” he answered soberly. “I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out before. LZ-one-twenty-nine stands for Luft Zeppelin-one-twenty-nine.”

  “What’s a Luft Zeppelin?” Spader asked.

  The truth suddenly hit me.

  I felt sick. Saint Dane was right. I should have paid better attention in history class. I had the answer staring me in the face all along, but couldn’t put it together. It was a famous event in American history. There were movies made about it. There were books written and TV shows made. It was a tragedy as famous as the sinking of the Titanic or the destruction of the space shuttle Challenger.

  “What’s he talking about, Pendragon?” asked Spader. “Do you know?”

  “Yeah,” I answered softly. “I think I do. And it makes a whole bunch of sense.”

  Gunny reached to the seat next to him where he had a newspaper. “Luft Zeppelin-one-twenty-nine left Germany last week. Tomorrow morning it’s going to arrive at the naval air station in Lakehurst, New Jersey.”

  He threw the paper to us and it landed in my lap. There on the front page was a big picture of Luft Zeppelin-129. It was a giant silver blimp. Only it went by another name that was way better known. That name was written on the silver nose of the air ship.

  It was called the Hindenburg.

  “I’m guessing that Max Rose’s payment is aboard that airship, direct from Germany,” said Gunny. “I believe that’s Winn Farrow’s target.”

  Spader picked up the paper and stared at the picture of the giant airship with the Nazi swastikas painted on its tail.

  “This thing flies too?” Spader asked. “It doesn’t look like Jinx’s airplane.”

  “It’s a big balloon,” Gunny answered. “Lighter than air. They’ve been flying them across the ocean for a few years now. They say it’s the wave of the future.”

  “It’s not the wave of the future,” I said quietly.

  “What do you mean, Pendragon?” Gunny asked. “This is your history. Did you ever hear of the Hindenburg?”

  I took a breath and swallowed. “Yeah, I heard about it,” I answered. “When the Hindenburg arrived in New Jersey, it blew up. The balloon burned and the passenger compartment crashed. A lot of people died
and the ship was totally destroyed by fire. I don’t think they ever figured out how it happened.”

  The three of us sat in silence for a good long time. Finally Spader said the one thing that was on all our minds.

  “Well,” he said. “I think we know how the Hindenburg is gonna blow up.”

  “Yeah,” I added. “What we don’t know is if we can stop it.”

  JOURNAL #10

  FIRST EARTH

  We rode the rest of the way back to the Manhattan Tower Hotel in silence. I think we were all trying to get our minds around the fact that there was going to be a disaster the next day. Winn Farrow was going to light the fuse that would lead to one of the most infamous catastrophes in history. He was going to blow up the airship Hindenburg.

  There wasn’t all that much I knew about the crash. The basic event was one of those things that everybody knew about because it was such a big deal. I’d seen pictures of the Hindenburg in flames. I’d seen scratchy news footage of people jumping from the passenger compartment, desperately trying to escape. There was also a famous radio broadcast where some news guy was announcing the arrival of the ship, and then had to keep his head together to describe the horror of the fiery crash.

  It was a famous moment in history; it was going to happen the next day. Question was, what were we going to do about it?

  When we got back to the hotel, Gunny stayed in the car. “You boys go up to your room,” he said. “I’ve got a friend who can fix this car up like new. No sense in having Caplesmith on my back. We’ve got bigger fish to fry.” He hit the gas and peeled out, leaving us alone on the sidewalk.

  “Why are we going to fry big fish?” Spader asked.

  “It’s just an expression,” I said.

  “Too bad,” he said. “I’m hungry.”

  We entered the building through the kitchen and grabbed some fruit. Turned out I was pretty hungry too. The next trick was to get back to our room without being seen by any of Max Rose’s goon squad. The plan was to dodge them.

  We got halfway through the kitchen when we walked straight into the same thug who nailed us the last time. Didn’t he ever go home?

  “Well, lookee here,” he said. “You two boys look like you been through the war. You smell like it too.”

  “Back off, bozo,” I said, trying to act all tough. “We gotta go change and—”

  The goon grabbed us by the arms and marched us toward the elevators. I guess I didn’t act tough enough. Next thing we knew, we were being shoved into the living room of the penthouse. So much for our plan of dodging Max Rose.

  “And don’t touch nothing,” the goon ordered. “You two are disgusting.”

  The guy left, giving us a short window to figure out what we would say to Max Rose.

  “We gotta tell him,” Spader said instantly. “Everything.”

  “Yeah, right,” I shot back. “We’ll tell him how I’m from the future and that’s how I know the Hindenburg is going to explode tomorrow. Perfect.”

  “Well, you can’t say that,” Spader countered.

  “Duh.”

  “But if we tell him Winn Farrow is going to blow up the zeppelin, Rose could send his thugs to stop him. They could do the job for us!”

  I had to think about that. Spader might be right. If our mission was to stop Farrow and Saint Dane from blowing up the Hindenburg, we could use all the help we could get, even if it was from a gang of thugs. This could be a real easy solution. But for some reason, the idea of telling Max Rose what was going to happen made me uneasy.

  “You might be right,” I finally answered. “But let’s not tell him anything yet. Not until we’ve worked this through.”

  “We don’t have time, Pendragon!” Spader argued. “The sooner we tell him, the better chance he’ll have of stopping Saint Dane.”

  “You mean stopping Farrow,” I said.

  “Whatever. Hobey, mate, we gotta tell him!”

  “No, we don’t. Not yet. Don’t say anything, all right?”

  Before Spader could answer, the door opened on the far side of the room and Max Rose entered with Harlow. Both were dressed in silky pajamas. Big surprise. When he saw us, Max Rose’s face lit up with a big smile.

  “Buck! Flash! You’re not dead!” he bellowed.

  Obviously.

  Harlow got close to us, took a sniff, and wrinkled her nose. “You boys been playing with fire?”

  “No, but Winn Farrow has,” Spader said quickly.

  I shot Spader a look, willing him to keep quiet.

  Rose and Harlow plopped down on the couch, waiting to hear our report. “I’d ask you to sit down, boys, but to be honest, you stink,” Rose said.

  “No problem,” I said. “How ’bout if we get changed and washed up before telling you what happened?”

  “Do I look like a patient man?” Rose asked. “Tell me now.”

  Spader looked at me, expecting me to start talking because that’s what I always did. But as I stood there in front of Rose, I didn’t know what to say. I was in total brain lock. Nothing was coming.

  Rose added, “I guess since you two aren’t dead, my old friend Winn is going to respect my request to mind his own business, am I right?”

  I needed to come up with a story that would give us time to figure out the best way to handle the news. But I was coming up empty. A second later it didn’t matter anymore.

  “Winn Farrow is going to blow up the Hindenburg,” Spader blurted out.

  I closed my eyes. There it was. Bang. Spader had just set something in motion that was now officially out of our hands.

  Max Rose jumped to his feet in surprise. “He’s going to…?”

  He couldn’t finish the sentence. He started to pace nervously. Believe it or not, he not only seemed surprised, he looked scared. That was the last thing I expected. Max Rose was a guy who didn’t even blink while staring into an assassin’s gun. But now, after hearing that the Hindenburg might go down in flames, he was on the hairy edge of cracking. He stormed over to his bar and poured himself a drink. This time he didn’t shoot any Three Stooges fizzy water into it either. He wanted it strong.

  “How?” he demanded to know.

  I didn’t answer. This was Spader’s show now.

  “He’s got these rocket nasties,” Spader said. “He’s going to shoot one at the airship and blow it up.”

  “You think it’ll work?” Rose asked.

  “Take a look at us, mate,” Spader said. “He shot one of those bad boys into his slaughterhouse, with us inside. There’s nothing left of the place.”

  Rose gulped down his drink and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his expensive bathrobe. His hand was shaking. Harlow stood up and slinked over to him.

  “Don’t worry, Maxie,” she said calmly. “Farrow’s too dumb to pull off something like that.”

  Rose was starting to sweat. “Yeah?” he barked at her. “And what if he gets lucky? Do you know how much I got riding on that big balloon?”

  I took a chance and asked, “What is it that’s coming in?”

  I don’t think Rose would have answered if he weren’t so upset.

  “Payment,” he shot back at me. “I’ve done a lot of work for those Germans. I’ve shipped them equipment and tools and scrap metal and a whole lot of other things. It’s cost me millions. I went out on a very long limb for those Nazi creeps. I’m in debt to a lot of people. The kind of people you don’t want to be in debt to. If I don’t get that payment…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Whatever it was, it would be ugly. Oh yeah, Max Rose was scared.

  “Why don’t the Nazis just write you a check or something?” I asked.

  “It ain’t that easy,” Rose answered. “This isn’t the kind of transaction you want traced. By anybody. We had to be creative. There’s cash on that balloon. Lots of it. They’re also sending me bonds and a load of diamonds. Flawless diamonds. I’ve even got a couple of paintings coming in that were done by some famous dead guys. They’re worth millions! That’s the wa
y they wanted to pay me and I agreed. They’re sending it all in on that blimp so it’ll be easier to get through customs. I knew it was a rotten idea.”

  Now I knew what Winn Farrow meant when he said he was going to hit Max Rose where it hurt the most. If Farrow destroyed the Hindenburg, it would be the end of Max Rose’s business. Worse, going by how scared Rose looked, I’d say it would be the end of Max Rose himself.

  “It’s okay, Maxie,” Harlow said soothingly. “You’ll figure something out.”

  Rose took another drink to calm himself. “You boys did good,” he said softly. “I won’t forget that. Now get out of here. I need time to think.”

  Time to think. Yeah, tell me about it. I needed a little of that too. I wished I had more time to think before I let Spader give away the show to Max Rose. Now a chain reaction had started that we had no control over, all because I didn’t have enough time to think.

  I think I had better start learning how to think faster.

  JOURNAL #10

  FIRST EARTH

  Spader and I backed out of the room and quickly left Max Rose’s penthouse. We took the stairs down to the sixth floor to avoid Dewey. We didn’t want to explain the way we looked to him or anybody else. As soon as we got inside our room and closed the door, Spader let out a happy shout.

  “Hobey, yes!” he yelled. “Rose is going to send his thugs to stop Farrow. We did it. The Hindenburg is safe.”

  I stared at Spader, my anger slowly building. “I asked you not to tell him about Farrow’s plan.”

  “I know, mate, but I had to. That was our chance. You weren’t talking so I had to take it.”

  “And what if it was the wrong move?” I asked, trying not to boil over. “This isn’t just about two gangsters who hate each other. We’ve got a whole territory to worry about.”

  “C’mon, Pendragon,” Spader cajoled. “You know it was the right thing to do. We outsmarted Saint Dane. Again. We won!”

  “Man, I hope you’re right.”

  I needed to be alone to think, so I left Spader and headed for the bathroom. I got rid of my burned clothes and stood in the warm shower to clean off the dried blood. The cuts and bruises were nothing that wouldn’t heal quickly. We were both very lucky.