The Never War

by D. J. MacHale

  “Can you fly in this weather?” I shouted to Jinx over the roar of the engine.

  Jinx gave a quick look around, then said, “What weather?”

  That was good enough for me. It was now almost 4:30 P.M. The flight was going to take about an hour and a half, getting us to Lakehurst around 6:00 P.M. The Hindenburg was going to land at 7:25 P.M. Not much time to find Spader and Max Rose and figure out a way to stop them. We were cutting it very close.

  I looked back at Gunny and shouted, “You ready?”

  Gunny was doubled over in the back, puking. He looked up, smiled, and gave me a thumbs up. It was going to be a long flight. Jinx gunned the throttle, the plane bounced over the swells, and after a gut-rumbling thirty seconds, we were airborne.

  Just as I feared, the flight was ugly. The little plane was constantly buffeted by gusts of wind and downdrafts. Jinx tried to fly at different altitudes, searching for smooth air, but nothing helped.

  Most of the time, we were flying blind. The gray, angry clouds were thick and low. Every time we entered one, I gritted my teeth and held my breath. If there were another plane coming from the other direction, we’d be history. But this was 1937. There wasn’t as much air traffic back then, so we were fairly safe. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

  A few times I looked back to check on Gunny. The poor guy was having a rough time. His face looked green, but he still gave me a brave thumbs up. At one point I wondered if Gunny thought the thumbs up meant “I’m going to puke again,” because that’s pretty much all he was doing.

  They didn’t have radio beacons or radar back in those days. All Jinx had to navigate was a compass, her eyes, and a great sense of direction. As it turned out, she had been down to Lakehurst before, so she knew what landmarks to follow. I think back on that flight and I realize that Jinx’s cockiness was deserved. She really was a great pilot. It was too bad nobody recognized her for it.

  There was one whopper of a hairy moment that still makes my palms sweaty when I think back on it. We had been flying for almost two hours. That was bad. The flight was taking way longer than Jinx figured. It was because of the weather. We were fighting head winds the whole way. I was getting more anxious by the second.

  We then entered a huge cloud bank. This was the darkest, longest one we had been in yet. I kept looking ahead, praying to see light on the far side that would mean we were about to break out. But it wasn’t coming. This cloud was huge. No sooner did we enter than we were pelted with more rain. Remember, we were in open cockpits. When it rained, we got wet. We had to keep wiping off our goggles or we would have been totally blinded. I kept reaching forward to wipe off the glass shield in front of Jinx so she could see better. Total waste of time. Visibility was pretty much zero.

  I had just finished wiping off the windshield and sat back in my seat, when I saw something that made me stop breathing. There in front of us, only a few yards ahead, was a sight so unbelievable I thought I was imagining it. But I wasn’t. It was a giant, floating, black swastika on a white circle, surrounded by a red field.

  “Look out!” I shouted.

  Jinx banked the plane hard to the right. The engine groaned, the g force built up so hard that I was crushed back into the seat. I think our wings went vertical. I shut my eyes, ready for the collision, but it never came. Jinx had dodged it. It wasn’t until a second later that I realized what we had nearly hit.

  It was the tail of the Hindenburg.

  It had crossed right in front of us. We didn’t see it because of the cloud, and we didn’t hear it because our own engine drowned out its engines. I swear, we couldn’t have missed it by more than a few inches.

  Jinx looked at me and smiled. “That was exciting.”

  Exciting. Okay, that was one word for it. I looked back at Gunny…and he wasn’t there! My first thought was that he had fallen out. But a second later he sat up and looked at me with watery eyes. He had been doubled over, losing it once again. He couldn’t even give me the thumbs up this time. The poor guy wouldn’t be the same until his feet were back on solid ground.

  “Does that mean we’re getting close to the field?” I shouted to Jinx.

  “We’ve still got a few minutes,” Jinx shouted back.

  That’s when we finally blasted out of the cloud bank. I looked down to the ground and saw something that made me sit up straight. It was a long, silver bus moving along the narrow highway. This was a pretty empty section of New Jersey. There wasn’t a whole lot of traffic down here. I motioned for Gunny to look down.

  “Could that be the bus Spader is on?” I shouted.

  Gunny looked, then nodded and gave the thumbs up. Either this was the bus, or he had to puke again. I figured it was the bus. It was a huge stroke of luck. If we could get to Spader, we could stop him from going after Winn Farrow. Then all we would have to worry about was Max Rose. I quickly turned to Jinx.

  “You gotta put us down,” I shouted.

  “What?” she shouted back. “Why?”

  “We’ve got to get to that bus!” I shouted over the roar of the engine.

  Jinx looked down at the ground. She banked the plane right, then left, so she could get a view of the landscape.

  “Can’t do it, Pendragon,” she shouted back. “There’s no place to put down.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry. I would if I could,” was her answer. “I won’t be able to land until we get to the air station.”

  That would be too late. I needed to get to Spader now, before he had the chance to mess with Winn Farrow’s plans. Stopping him was going to be half the battle. This could very well be the critical moment of the mission. I didn’t want to blow it. There had to be a way.

  A few seconds later, it came to me. I once again remembered an adventure I had with Uncle Press. Like I wrote before, I now understood that he was preparing me for my life as a Traveler. I learned a lot of skills through him, and I was about to put another one to use. The idea scared me to death, but I knew I could do it. I had to.

  “Fly ahead of the bus,” I yelled to Jinx.

  Jinx didn’t question. She gunned the throttle and shot forward. I glanced over at the plane’s altimeter to see we were flying at three thousand feet. I then asked her, “Are these parachutes okay?”

  She gave me a sideways look and said, “Of course. I packed ’em myself. Don’t worry, you won’t have to use it.”

  That’s where she was wrong.

  “Thanks, Jinx. Make sure Gunny gets to the airfield,” I said.

  Jinx gave me a strange look. She had no idea what I was talking about. I turned back to Gunny and shouted, “I’ll see you at the airfield.”

  Gunny gave me a strange look. He didn’t know what I was talking about either. How could he? There was no way either of them would think in a million years that I was about to do what I was about to do. I glanced at the altimeter and saw we were still at three thousand feet. That was plenty high enough to make a safe jump. At least that’s what the book said. Before I had the chance to convince myself I was being an idiot, I clicked out of my seat buckle and turned to Jinx.

  “Thanks for the ride, Jinx,” I said.

  “What are you doing?” she shouted back, stunned.

  I showed her. With one quick move I launched myself up and out of the cockpit. A second later I was freefalling through the clouds, really hoping that Jinx was as good at packing parachutes as she was at flying airplanes.

  JOURNAL #12

  FIRST EARTH

  Before today I’d jumped out of a plane exactly three times. Each time I had other, experienced divers with me and always used a static line. That was a line on my ripcord that stayed attached to the plane. After falling for only a few seconds, the static line automatically pulled the ripcord and the parachute came out. I think they do that with new divers to make sure they don’t freak and forget to pull the cord. Yeah, right, like there’s any chance of that happening.

  Now, jumping out of Jinx�
��s plane, I was totally on my own. I thought back to all the instruction I’d had. I was taught proper body position and how to sight objects on the ground and all those things that had to do with good form. But as I plummeted away from that plane, all thoughts about good form went right out of my head. All I wanted to do was get down alive.

  A second after I left the cockpit, I yanked on that ripcord as if my life depended on it, because, well, it did. I was three thousand feet in the air and dropping fast. This was dangerously low, but if the chute opened the way it was supposed to I’d be fine. I’m happy to report that no sooner did I pull that cord than I felt the familiar tug of the chute and shroud lines being quickly pulled out. Lucky for me, Jinx knew how to pack a parachute. Phew.

  Two seconds later I was floating lazily under a beautiful, round white canopy. I looked up to see that the chute was fully open and all the lines were clear. Believe it or not, that’s when I got scared. When I decided to jump from the plane, I bolted so fast I didn’t give myself time to think about what an idiotic move it was. Now I found myself floating through a thunderstorm. Judging from the bright shots of lightning that were tearing through the sky around me, I’d be lucky to get down to the ground without being flash fried. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it though. I had to take deep breaths and force myself to calm down.

  I looked up at the chute again and saw Jinx’s plane flying on toward the airfield. I also caught another glimpse of the Hindenburg. 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 the Hindenburg didn’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 all didn’t go 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 the Hindenburg arrive. 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. The Hindenburg would 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 the Hindenburg. 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.

  “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.”