The X-Factor

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Agreed. At this point it seems stupid to automatically assume that one person is responsible for all the trouble.” I thought back over everything that had happened. “I mean, what if Nick set up that tractor stunt somehow to throw us off, but someone else entirely blew up the mountain—”

  “Like Ox, maybe?”

  “Sure, whoever. And then a completely different person could be behind the Leap and the RCA thing.”

  Just then I had to jump back as several people raced out of the arcade. They were all young girls. The tallest of them was clutching what appeared to be a life-size cutout of Bret Johnston. I vaguely remembered seeing it hanging on the arcade wall along with some other celebrity images. A security guard came chasing after the girls, shouting about getting them kicked out for good.

  The whole scene reminded me of another potential suspect we hadn’t discussed yet. “Maybe that Zana Johnston did some of it.”

  “The Bret superfan? I almost forgot about her.” Joe watched the girls as they disappeared into the crowd, leaving the guard gnashing his teeth and reaching for his walkie-talkie. “Do you really think she could be behind any of this stuff?”

  “Who knows? We don’t know much about her. The timing seems a bit off, especially for the explosion and other earlier stuff. Then again, we don’t really know how long she’s been hanging around this place. It’s not like we’d have had any reason to notice her before.”

  Joe nodded. “She might’ve sneaked in early for the celebrity preview thing, or just come for the Mr. Nice Guyz concert or whatever.” He made a face. “Although I’m not sure I’m with you on not noticing her. That kind of crazy is hard to miss.”

  “Well, let’s make a mental note to check into her if our other leads don’t pan out.”

  “Speaking of suspects, I’ve got another one for you,” Joe said. “What about Sprat?”

  The loudmouthed TV star had been dancing around in the back of my mind too. “I hear you,” I said. “It’s like he’s trying a little too hard to prove he’s not scared of what’s been happening, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah. Although to be honest, he’s kind of the same way on his show. You know—trying too hard. But one thing’s for sure—he’s definitely an expert on stuff like explosions and tinkering with machinery.”

  I knew what he meant. Anyone who’d ever seen Gotcha knew that Sprat had a knack for that kind of thing. He was always hotwiring cars or creating goofy Internet scams or mixing together random stuff to try to make it explode.

  “But what’s his motive?” I wondered aloud.

  “Maybe he’s trying to drum up trouble to benefit his show somehow.” Joe sounded uncertain. “Or just get publicity for himself. Or who knows, maybe he’s in with that StopGX crowd—if every teenage boy in America can come to GX and feel like they’re living on the edge, it might cut back on the demand for his brand of shtick.”

  We had to stop discussing it for a while as we headed into the arcade to check whether Nick was there. For one thing, it was way too noisy for much talking. Besides, we didn’t want anyone to overhear us. Even if at least half the staff seemed to know who we were, we were still technically undercover.

  Nick was nowhere to be found in the arcade—or anywhere else in the park, for that matter. By the time GX closed for the night, we still hadn’t located him. And when I called his house, the servant who answered the phone didn’t know where he was and refused to give us his cell number.

  By then Joe and I were back in the guest cottage McKenzie had provided for our lodgings. Joe sprawled on the couch, idly scrolling through the list of available video games on the console by the big-screen TV. “Strikeout,” he said. “Guess we’ll have to catch up with Nick tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. But listen,” I said. “One thing keeps bugging me about all this. I mean, most of our suspects—McKenzie, Ox, Sprat, even Nick or maybe Zana—could’ve pulled off some or most of the bad stuff, at least theoretically. The Mount McKenzie explosion, the Leap malfunction, the skateboard thing, even the tractor. But you and I were standing right there when Erica got beaned by that rock. Wouldn’t we have spotted someone as noticeable as Ox or Sprat or even Zana if they were hanging around at the time? Not to mention Erica’s stepfather or stepbrother?”

  Joe waved one hand. “I already told you, I don’t think we should focus on that incident,” he said. “It totally could’ve been old Freddy Jackson, or one of his protester buddies.” He shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like Erica was even hurt. Just freaked out or whatever.”

  “I guess you’re right. Like I said, it just keeps bugging me, that’s all.” I shot him a wary glance, expecting him to start in on the Erica stuff again.

  But he had a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, most of the people on our list can get into GX any time they want,” he said, setting down the remote. “So what are we doing sitting around here just ’cause the place is closed?”

  “Good point. Especially considering Skater Hater’s latest message.” I stood up and reached for a flashlight. “Let’s go.”

  Soon we were wandering around in the semidarkened park. Most of the neon lights and such were turned off for the night. But there were little safety lights on most of the lampposts and larger structures that let us get by without our flashlights most of the time.

  “So what are we looking for, anyway?” Joe mumbled, stifling a yawn.

  Good question. Sk8rH8r hadn’t really given us any clues about where he might strike next. Not unless the stunt reference was supposed to be a hint.

  “Maybe that stunt show is going to be the next target,” I said. “There’s supposed to be a repeat performance day after tomorrow, I think. And just because everything went smoothly today…”

  “I hear you.” Joe stopped in his tracks and glanced around. “What’s the quickest way over there from here?”

  We were standing in the shadow of the patriotic-themed roller coaster known as Old Glory. It formed the border between the military section of the park with the tank ride and others and the Wild Wild West area.

  “I think it’s this way,” I said, pointing.

  “Shh. Did you hear that?” Joe hissed, suddenly craning his neck to look upward.

  “Hear what?” But before he could answer, I heard it too. Sort of a soft shuffling noise coming from somewhere overhead.

  I glanced upward into the maze of metal tracks, but it was too dark to see anything. I reached for my flashlight and clicked it on, aiming up.…

  Just in time to see an enormous undulating shape falling straight down at us!

  Raging Rapids

  “Aaaah!” I yelped as Frank’s flashlight beam showed something big hurtling down at us. I tried to run, but it was too late.

  WHOOOOMP! I found myself enveloped in… fabric? I relaxed slightly as I realized that whatever had just fallen on us hadn’t killed us. Not even close. Nearby, I could hear Frank thrashing and yelling. He’s a little claustrophobic sometimes. I guess being attacked by a huge wad of cloth counts as one of those times.

  “Relax, bro,” I called, swimming my way through the fabric, looking for a way out. A beam of light shot through it—obviously Frank was still holding his flashlight—and I saw stars. No, literally. The light picked up a bunch of white stars on a blue background.

  “Hey,” Frank said from somewhere nearby, sounding a bit muffled. “I think this is a flag.”

  Of course. Now I remembered—the Old Glory coaster was draped in American flags of all sizes, including a gigantic one hanging off the side overlooking the park. Right over where we’d been standing.

  A few seconds later we were both free of the flag. “Bummer,” I said, nudging it with one toe. It covered a good ten square yards of the path and adjoining flower bed. “Isn’t it, like, unpatriotic to ever let the flag touch the ground? Because this thing’s touching a lot of ground.”

  “Someone must’ve cut the ties so it would fall on us,” Frank mused, playing his flashlight beam over the side of the track
s up above. “Wait—did you see that?” He swung the flashlight lower, aiming it at a section of track just a few yards off the ground and a dozen yards down the path.

  “What?” I squinted in that direction. “Hey! Is someone there?”

  There was a scramble of feet on the metal tracks. Then a thump as someone landed on the path. Frank tried to catch the person in the flashlight beam, but whoever it was was too fast, darting into the shadow of the ride.

  “Come on!” I yelled, almost tripping over the edge of the fallen flag as I took off after the person.

  I had my flashlight out by now too. But our quarry was pretty quick, taking advantage of every snack shack, shrub, and oversize trash can to keep just out of sight. It was pretty easy to hold the trail by sound, though. GX was still and quiet, allowing every footfall to echo.

  “I think we’re catching up,” Frank panted from just behind me.

  I put on another burst of speed. By then I knew the lay of the land pretty well. We were crossing through a science-fiction-themed section at the moment. Unless our quarry changed course again, we’d soon be entering the picnic park, a grassy expanse separating the main area of GX from the back portion, where several of the more spread-out attractions were located. There were a lot of bigger trees and stuff there, along with picnic tables and volleyball nets. And, of course, the grass, which would muffle the sound of footsteps. That would make it easier for good old Flag Dropper to give us the slip.

  There was one last clatter of running feet up ahead, then silence. “Hurry!” I cried, ready to burst out onto the picnic lawn and run for all I was worth. “He’ll get away!”

  “Joe, wait!” Frank grabbed me and yanked me a stop at the edge of the lawn.

  “Let go!” I tried to shake off his hand, panting with exertion and eagerness. “He didn’t have that much of a head start.…”

  Frank shook his head and put one finger to his lips. At least I think that’s what he was doing—it was still pretty dark.

  “Shh,” he whispered. “Just listen. It’s our only shot.”

  I was practically quivering with impatience. I’m not exactly the type of person who likes to stand around waiting and listening. When something’s happening, I’m ready for action!

  But I realized Frank was right. We could run around the picnic park all night while our quarry slipped away into the darkness along its edges and disappeared. This way at least we had a chance.…

  “There!” Frank hissed, pointing off into the darkness. “I heard something over that way.”

  I nodded, scanning my mental map of GX to figure out what was over there. “Could he be heading for the drag-racing track?” I whispered.

  “Maybe a little more to the left,” Frank murmured. “Sort of over toward that ride that hasn’t opened yet—what’s it called? The water one?”

  “Whitewater Wipeout,” I said. “Come on.”

  We tiptoed across the lawn, keeping our lights off. When we got closer to where we’d heard the first sound, we heard footsteps again. “One… two…,” Frank whispered.

  Three.

  “Stop right there!” I yelled as we both flipped on our flashlights, aiming them toward the source of the sound.

  Like I said, our quarry was fast. All I could see was a blur of dark clothes as someone ran out of view, ducking under the barriers blocking the entrance to Whitewater Wipeout.

  “Go!” shouted Frank.

  I didn’t have to be told twice. We both took off. I leaped over the barrier, hoping I was judging it right in the darkness. Beside me, I heard Frank skidding beneath it.

  Even over the sounds of our running feet and heavy breathing, it was easy to hear a big splash ahead. “He’s taking a tube!” I shouted.

  “Guess that means there’s water in the ride already, even if it’s not open,” Frank called back. “This could be our chance to catch up!”

  The entrance trail led between some big fake rocks that hid the ride from the path outside. On the other side, some safety lights gave us a dim view of a rugged river tumbling rapidly downhill away from us. There was an equipment shack at the edge, and a bunch of huge inner tubes were sitting just outside.

  “Banzai!” I yelled. Grabbing the nearest tube, I tossed it into the man-made river. The rushing water grabbed it and pulled it out of sight before I could even think about jumping on. “Oops.”

  “Quit messing around,” Frank panted. He grabbed another tube and ran to the edge, clutching it in front of him. Then he sort of belly flopped in, landing facedown on the tube.

  I followed suit with another tube. “Oof!” I grunted as I landed, almost slipping off one side as the waters spun my tube around. But I recovered quickly, wedging myself in and aiming my flashlight forward.

  I soon picked out Frank’s tube spinning along in front of me. He had his light on too and was scanning the rushing water ahead.

  A stray current caught my tube and zipped me along faster than the rest of the river. I shot right past Frank.

  “Whoo-hoo!” I yelled. Mission or no mission, this was fun! No wonder McKenzie was so bummed that this ride wasn’t open to the public yet.

  That—and Frank’s yell of “Focus!”—reminded me that this wasn’t fun and games. My tube skirted the wall on one side, the rubber squeaking ominously against the craggy rock.

  “Whoa,” I muttered, kicking out and pushing myself away from the wall before a stray rock could puncture my tube. Guess that’s where those still-missing safety barriers came in.

  By leaning over and using my hands to paddle, I managed to get myself out of the side current and back into the middle of the river. Then I sat up and aimed my flashlight forward again as the water swooped me along.

  “There he is!” I shouted to Frank, who was a few yards behind me now. “We’re catching up!”

  I tried to aim my flashlight for a better look. Maybe that way I could narrow down the possibilities of who we were chasing. After all, Ox was at least twice the size of Nick or Zana.…

  Just then the river swooped around a sharp bend to the right and I lost sight of our quarry. I leaned over again, paddling with my free hand to try to push the tube along faster. I was so focused on catching another glimpse of the dark figure ahead that it took me a moment to notice that my tube had swayed out of the main current again.

  “Aaaah!” I yelled as it careened straight into the high vertical stone wall. It bounced off again and hit a wave, jolting me off balance. I had to scrabble at the handholds to stay aboard. My flashlight went skittering out of my grip, disappearing beneath the water.

  I gritted my teeth. That hurt. Now I had to rely on Frank’s light and the weak glow of the stars to see our quarry.

  A moment later I realized another disadvantage. It was really, really hard to keep track of where I was in the dark, rushing river. There was another alarming squeak as the tube scraped against some partially submerged rocks I hadn’t even seen coming.

  Man. In the daylight with safety barriers in place, this ride would be a blast. Right now? Not so much.

  Frank’s flashlight beam flickered past me. He was kind of far back by now, so the light was weak. But it was enough for me to see another bunch of rocks coming up dead ahead.

  “Ack!” I yelped, leaning over to paddle, doing my best to scoot around the rocks.

  I swooshed past them with inches to spare. Just as I was letting out a sigh of relief, the tube stopped short. This time it had banged up against the wall again. The current was strong here; it pushed against the tube, making it scrape pain-fully against rock as it continued downstream.

  Reaching over, I shoved at the rough stone wall, trying to push away from it. I felt sharp edges slice into my hand. But it was like pushing against a mountain. The current was stronger than I was.

  SKREEEEE—POP!

  Suddenly the tube’s taut rubber sides collapsed around me. Air poured out of its sliced-up edge, and I felt the current grab me, pull me out of the sinking tube, and slam me against the ro
ck.

  “Nooooo!” I yelled, before water filled my nose and mouth and the current yanked me under.

  Flight Plans

  “Joe!” I yelled as my brother’s head disappeared beneath the roiling rapids. Luckily I’d had my flashlight on him when his tube went down.

  My heart pounding, I used my hands and the flashlight to paddle. If the current swept me past him before I could get over there…

  Whew! I managed to break loose of the main current. There was another current at the edge, even stronger and faster. But it carried me right toward Joe, whose head had just surfaced again.

  “Heads up!” I yelled. “Grab my hand!”

  Dropping the flashlight in the well of the tube, I leaned over the side as far as I dared. Without my light it was pretty dark, but I kept my gaze focused on the blob in the water that I was pretty sure was Joe. Then I stretched out my hand.

  Yes! I felt Joe grab my wrist. “Hang on!” I called.

  The current dumped us back out into the middle of the river. I hauled on Joe’s arm, trying to pull him in with me. He grabbed at the edge of my tube with his free hand, doing his best to yank himself upward.

  “Whoa!” I yelped as I felt the tube tip. There was a flash of light in my eyes, though it almost immediately disappeared. Oh, man. There went my flashlight.

  But I wasn’t too worried about that at the moment. Working together, Joe and I managed to get him out of the water and into the tube beside me.

  “You all right?” I asked him.

  He sort of burbled and gasped for a moment. “Yeah,” he said at last. “I’m cool.”

  Those tubes are pretty big. Even so, it was snug in there with both of us. Plus, the extra weight slowed us down quite a bit.

  “Lost my flashlight,” I told Joe. “I don’t think we’re going to catch up to whoever that is up there.”

  “I know. Not like this, anyway.” Joe sounded frustrated. “Think we could get this thing over to a spot where we could climb out?”