The Never War tpa-3

by D. J. MacHale

  I looked up at the chute again and saw Jinx’s plane flying on toward the airfield. I also caught another glimpse of theHindenburg. A cloud parted and the giant, silver nose poked its way out. I knew from the history lesson we got on Third Earth that the zeppelin was circling the airfield, waiting for the weather to clear so it could land. Man, that thing was huge! Jinx’s plane looked like an ant next to a football. It was awesome. The scary thing was, I was on a mission to make sure it would crash and burn. Worse, if I were successful, thirty-six people would die. This was about as horrible a situation as I could imagine. The only way I could keep going was to bring back the images of the horror that would follow if theHindenburgdidn’t crash. I had to look away from the zeppelin.

  The ground was coming up fast. The key was to straighten up and relax. If all went well, landing was pretty much the same as jumping off a three-foot ladder. If alldidn’tgo well, I’d break both my legs and the show would be over. I grabbed the shroud lines, kept my head down, straightened my body perpendicular to the ground, and bent my knees. Soft knees…soft knees…that was my mantra. Soft knees absorbed the shock. Stiff knees didn’t. I hit the ground with both feet and rolled. It wasn’t the most graceful landing, but nothing broke. That’s a win in my book.

  But I wasn’t out of danger yet. The parachute then became my enemy. If a gust of wind filled it while I was still attached, it would easily drag me along on an uncontrollable bumpfest. But instinct took over and I quickly released the buckles that held me in the harness. At that exact moment, the wind did kick up. The parachute snapped open as it filled with air and the harness was ripped off my body. If I had waited a second more, I would have been yanked along, out of control. Now the parachute simply flew away from me. I didn’t bother chasing after it. I stood and watched it fly away like a giant jellyfish with its tendrils dragging behind. I would owe the U.S. Coast Guard a new parachute.

  What a rush! I had leaped out of a plane at three thousand feet and lived to tell the tale. But the truth was, it didn’t matter. This wasn’t about the jump. This was about getting to Spader. I had to force myself to get my head back together and plan my next move.

  I was standing on a lonely road in the middle of nowhere. There was scrubby grass on either side of the road, broken up by a few lonely trees. It was probably farmland for grazing cows. Now what?

  I then heard a sound. I didn’t know what it was at first, because for the past few hours I had been hearing nothing but the roar of Jinx’s engine and the shrill whistle of wind. This new sound was loud, harsh, and getting louder. Whatever it was, it was coming closer. I looked one way up the road and saw nothing. I turned around and saw it.

  It was a silver bus, blowing its horn, headed my way. Yes! Jinx had put me exactly where I needed to be. Suddenly my insane jump from the airplane didn’t seem so crazy. I had gotten ahead of Spader and we’d soon be back together.

  I started waving my arms like crazy. Either this bus was going to stop, or splat me like a bug on a windshield. The sound of gushing air told me that the bus driver was putting on the brakes. I guess he didn’t want to scrape me off his windshield. So far so good. The bus rolled to a stop in front of me and I ran to the door as it opened.

  “Howdy, Lindbergh,” the driver said. “Lose your aeroplane?”

  Lindbergh? Aeroplane? Oh, right. I was still wearing the leather flight cap and goggles. What a doofus. I quickly pulled them off and asked, “Okay if I ride to the next stop?”

  “Sure enough, Wilbur,” he said. “Welcome aboard.”

  I climbed onto the bus as the driver closed the door behind me. He hit the gas and we were under way. The bus was packed with people. My guess was that they were all coming down to see theHindenburgarrive. There was an excited vibe in the bus, like they were on an adventure. They were ready for the thrill of seeing the big airship.

  I walked down the aisle, looking into every seat, expecting to find Spader. But when I reached the back of the bus, I hadn’t seen him. I turned back toward the front, double-checking each and every passenger. Could I have missed him? No way. But I got back to the front and still no Spader. It was time to get nervous again.

  “Excuse me,” I said to the driver. “Did this bus come from New York City?”

  “All the way,” he said.

  “A friend of mine was supposed to be on this bus, but I don’t see him.”

  “Who’s your friend?” he laughed. “Orville?”

  Orville. Wilbur. Lindbergh. Ha ha, this guy was a real comedian.

  “His name is Spader. He’s taller than I am and has black hair. His eyes are kind of Asian looking. Did he get on the bus in New York?”

  “Look, Ace,” the driver said, “I don’t remember every Joe who rides my bus. Who do I look like? Sherlock Holmes?”

  “No, but, this guy’s different looking,” I said, pressing the issue. This was 1937. I didn’t think there were many Asian-looking people riding New Jersey buses.

  “Look,” he said impatiently, “if I saw him, I’d tell you. But I didn’t, so I can’t. All right?”

  That was it. Spader wasn’t on the bus. But that didn’t make sense. If this was the bus from New York, then why wasn’t he on it? I fell down into an empty seat, beaten. My death dive from Jinx’s airplane was a waste of time and adrenaline. I had no idea what to do next. Worse, I was alone. Gunny was still flying through the storm. All I could do was ride to Lakehurst with the other tourists and figure out something once I got there. I glanced at my watch. It was 6:30. TheHindenburgwould arrive in less than an hour. Things were looking bleak.

  A few minutes later the bus pulled into a gas station. The driver stopped at the pumps, then stood up and spoke to the passengers. “It’s another ten minutes to the airfield, folks,” he announced. “I need to gas up. It won’t take long, so don’t go wandering off.” The guy then left the bus to fill up.

  This was torture. I needed to get to the airfield as soon as possible. Every minute was critical. But I didn’t know where I was going or how to get there, so I had to wait it out here with the tourists. I listened in to some of their conversations. They were all talking about theHindenburg. They chatted about how it was such an amazing ship and seeing it was like getting a glimpse into the future. Man, this was freaky. If they had any idea of how horrible that future was going to be, they wouldn’t be so happy.

  I couldn’t stand hearing this anymore, so I tuned out. That’s when I glanced out the window and saw something that made me sit bolt upright in surprise.

  A black car was on the other side of the pumps from the bus. Sitting in the driver’s seat was the goon who worked security for Max Rose! He was the guy who kept grabbing Spader and me in the kitchen of the hotel and bringing us upstairs.

  Then, walking out of the gas station, I saw Max Rose himself. I couldn’t believe it. These were the guys I was chasing and here they were, right in front of me! I was back in business. I jumped up and ran out of the bus, nearly knocking over the driver who was trying to get back on.

  “Mr. Rose!” I shouted. Max looked up, but didn’t break out in his usual confident smile. No, he was on his own mission now. He had to stop Winn Farrow from blowing up his criminal empire.

  “Buck! I was wondering where you were,” he said. “Flash didn’t think you’d make it.”

  Flash? That meant Spader. But when did he talk to Spader?

  “Hobey-ho, Pendragon,” came a familiar voice.

  I spun around to see Spader climbing out of the backseat of the gangster’s car! That’s why he wasn’t on the bus. He had hitched a ride with Max Rose.

  A second before, I had thought all was lost. Now I was standing right in front of the very people I came down here to stop. I still didn’t have any idea what to do, but at least I was back in the game.

  I ran to Spader, grabbed his arm, and pulled him away from the car. This would be tricky. He was here to help Max Rose and his goons. I had to let him know that things had changed. Drastically.

  �
��Hey, where you going?” Max Rose shouted.

  “Be right back!” I shouted. I pulled Spader far enough away so we couldn’t be heard.

  D. J. MacHale

  The Never War

  “What are you doing, mate?” Spader asked. “Don’t make him mad. He’s on our side, remember?”

  “No, he’s not,” I whispered back. “Don’t ask questions; just listen. We’ve gotta let Winn Farrow blow up the ship.”

  “What?”

  “Max Rose has a spy network that’s working with the Nazis. If the ship lands safely, those spies are gonna help Germany build a terrible weapon and win the war. If that happens, three territories are going down.”

  Spader looked confused. I didn’t blame him. It was a lot to swallow.

  “I don’t understand,” he said. “How do you know that?”

  “We saw it all on Third Earth. Look, it’ll take too long to explain, but believe me, it’s true. We have to make sure history plays out the way it’s supposed to. Winn Farrowmustblow up theHindenburg.”

  “We’re leaving!” shouted Max Rose. His car was all gassed up and they were ready to roll. We had to go with them.

  “You gotta believe me, Spader,” I said.

  I then pulled Spader back toward the car. It was strange. I had never seen Spader act like this. Normally he would charge right out front, leading the way into whatever adventure lay ahead. But now, he seemed lost. I guess I couldn’t blame him. I had just hit him with some pretty confusing news. Everything he thought to be true had just been turned inside out. Hey, I knew the feeling. I could only hope that he’d get his mind around it fast, so we could come up with a plan.

  But all we could do just then was get in the car with Max Rose, stay close to him, and be ready to move when the chance came. Ifthe chance came.

  Spader and I got in the backseat with Max Rose. Two of Rose’s big thugs were in front. It was three on two. I hoped it wouldn’t come down to a fight between us, because we’d get pounded. The driver hit the gas and we were on the way to our date with a zeppelin.

  “I owe you boys,” Max Rose said while wiping nervous sweat from his forehead with an expensive silk handkerchief. “Help me stop that rat Farrow, and I’ll take care of you. The deal I’ve got brewing is bigger than you can imagine.”

  I could imagine it, all right. The deal he had going was to send the U.S. down the tubes by selling atomic secrets to the Nazis. There was a rat in this equation, but it wasn’t Winn Farrow.

  “We know how they’re getting close to theHindenburg,”Rose continued. “They have uniforms and badges like the ground crew wears. Nobody will look twice at ‘em.”

  “How’d you find that out?” I asked.

  One of the thugs up front said, “We convinced one of Farrow’s boys to come clean.” The two laughed, like they were all sorts of proud for having squeezed that information out of him.

  My guess was the guy who “came clean” was probably Saint Dane. He wanted Rose to know exactly what Farrow was up to. As always, he was pulling the strings, making us dance.

  “I know every one of those boys,” Rose continued. “I’ll point ‘em out, then we take ‘em down.” He patted the gun that was hidden under his jacket. That was Rose’s plan. He was going to find Farrow’s men and shoot them. Simple as that. Bang bang. Not exactly a complicated Mission Impossible-style caper.

  “How are we going to get inside the airfield?” I asked. “We don’t have uniforms.”

  Rose pulled out a wad of cash. “We’ll get in,” he said. “We’re just some innocent tourists who want to see the big ship come in, and we’re willing to pay to get a good view. Money talks. Always has, always will.”

  I stared out the window. Forty minutes to go. As I sat in that car, speeding toward destiny, I had no idea how this would play out.

  Then something caught my eye. It was a street sign that showed we were traveling on Toms River Road. We then passed another sign. The intersection for Route 527 was coming up. That was weird. I had never been here before, but it seemed familiar. How could that be?

  The car charged forward, headed for the four-way intersection. That’s when it hit me. I definitely knew this place. I’d heard about it in the library on Third Earth. History showed that Max Rose died in a car crash, 6:50p.m. on May 6. Intersection of Toms River Road and Route 527. I glanced at my watch. It was 6:50. Spader and I were in the very same car, charging toward a gruesome date with an innocent motorcycle cop.

  We were only a few yards from the intersection now. I quickly glanced to the left and saw it. The motorcycle cop was speeding toward the same intersection. We were seconds away from getting T-boned into oblivion. There wasn’t time to warn the driver. I dove for the front seat and grabbed the wheel.

  “Look out!” I yelled and pulled the wheel hard.

  We skidded into the intersection, but were moving so fast that the car started to go over. The motorcycle cop hit us, but barely. He only grazed us from behind. If I hadn’t pulled the wheel, he’d have slammed us square on, and we’d be dead. The next few seconds were a blur. The car flipped. I don’t know how many times. All I could do was cover my head and close my eyes. We were all bounced around like we were in a washing machine. It was a jumble of arms and legs and screams. The sounds were hideous as metal crunched and squealed on the pavement.

  Finally the car stopped moving and all was still.

  I slowly opened my eyes, not sure if I was dead or alive. Amazingly, the car had ended up back on its wheels and the engine was still running. This was nothing like the wreck the computer had shown me. We had dodged a fat bullet. I was on the floor, wedged between the seat and Spader.

  “Spader?” I called out tentatively.

  Spader slowly opened his eyes and focused on me. “You all right?” he asked.

  “I think so. You?”

  Spader squirmed and flexed his arms to see if everything worked. “All in one piece,” he answered.

  I looked around the car and saw that the driver was now in the passenger seat. He was dazed, but alive. Nobody else was in the car. Max Rose and the other thug must have been thrown out when we flipped.

  Spader and I struggled to sit up. He kicked the door open and we had our way out. Carefully we crawled from the battered car. It wasn’t until later that I realized how many bruises I had. At the time I was too shocked to feel them. Besides, my head still hurt from getting conked back at the hotel. That hurt worse than anything else. I was a mess.

  We stood up on shaky legs and checked out the accident scene. The motorcycle was on its side behind the car. The cop was next to it. I went to him quickly and saw that he was unconscious, but alive. Phew. The second thug was already on his feet. He staggered around like he was drunk, but it looked like he was going to be okay too. Finally we saw Max Rose on the side of the road. The big guy was struggling to sit up. It was hard to believe, but we all lived through the spectacular wreck.

  I was amazed and grateful. But then a thought hit me. Max Rose was supposed to die in this accident. But now, because I had taken the wheel, Max was thrown from the car and he survived. I had changed history. Again. Now Max Rose was still able to stop Winn Farrow. If I hadn’t acted, he would probably be dead now and the Earth territories would be safe. By saving Max, I may have sealed Earth’s doom.

  Did I mention how bad my head hurt?

  “Buck!” called Max.

  Spader and I went to him. He was alive, but in bad shape. He had a big gash on his forehead and had trouble focusing his eyes. “You gotta stop him, boys,” he said. “You gotta stop Farrow. I’m counting on you.”

  Yeah, right. No chance. That’s exactly what wewouldn’tdo. Max then laid back down on the ground. He was out of it. I may have changed history by saving his life, but there was no way he could do anything about saving theHindenburgnow. Maybe all wasn’t lost after all.

  That’s when I heard the sound of an engine starting.

  Spader and I spun to see that the second thug had gotte
n his act back together and picked up the cop’s motorcycle. He was in the saddle, ready to roll. The sound I heard was him kicking over the bike’s engine.

  “I got it covered, boss,” he shouted to Max. “I’ll stop him.”

  Uh-oh. Rose’s gang wasn’t out of commission yet. I didn’t know what to do. Should I rush the guy and try to tackle him? Should I jump in front of his motorcycle? I had seconds to act, but I didn’t. That’s when something happened that is going to haunt me for a long time.

  Spader ran for the bike.

  “I’m coming with you!” he shouted as he jumped on the back.

  What was he doing? All I could get out was a confused “Spader?”

  “Sorry, mate,” Spader said. “We’ve got to save the people on that ship.”

  “No!” I shouted. I tried to grab him, but the thug gunned the engine and they lurched forward, just out of my reach.

  “I won’t let Saint Dane win,” Spader shouted as they sped away from me.

  There it was. The moment I had feared for months. Spader’s hatred for Saint Dane had come roaring back. He was going to avenge the death of his father, no matter what the cost. Spader had promised me he could control his emotions, but he was wrong. Or he lied. It didn’t matter which. The fact was, he didn’t believe me about what we had found on Third Earth. Maybe I hadn’t explained it well enough. Or maybe it was too much for him to understand. Whatever. All he saw was that Saint Dane was about to cause a horrific crash and people would die. He was so blinded by hatred he couldn’t believe he was doing exactly what our enemy wanted him to do.

  I realized all this as I stood on the road, alone, with no way to follow him or stop him. I glanced at my watch. It was 7:00. In twenty-five minutes the first domino would fall in Saint Dane’s plan to destroy Halla.