Middle Falls Time Travel Series (Book 3): The Death and Life of Dominick Davidner

by Inmon, Shawn

  Dominick held back several of the vines and poked his head into the small cave. A strong smell of an old animal kill filled his nostrils. “Ugh, not gonna be too much fun hanging out in there for a few hours, is it?”

  “Better than being picked off and finishing last. We can bring a bucket out here, so we can relieve ourselves.”

  “How about flashlights?”

  “We can have them, but we won’t use them in the cave. They’ll give us away.”

  “You’ve thought of everything.”

  “Few battle plans survive first contact with the enemy, but I’m trying to think of all contingencies.”

  Dominick squinted at Michael in the growing darkness. What kid talks like that? What’s going on with you, Michael? Who are you, really?

  Chapter Twenty

  The day of the Hartfield Game was cool and blustery, but not as bitterly cold as late October on the northern California coast could sometimes be. Heavy gray clouds hung low in the sky, threatening to add precipitation during the game at some point.

  Inside the Turtles’ barrack, Michael pulled his team into a tight semi-circle at the very back, near the restrooms. Their prefect for the year was an earnest Tenth Year named Doug Brant. The prefects that had come after Pusser were a bit of a let-down, in terms of entertainment value, and Doug was the quietest yet.

  Michael leaned in close to the gathered Turtles and said, in a voice barely above a whisper, “It’s not that I don’t trust Brant. It’s that I don’t trust anyone who’s not a Turtle.”

  Strong nods from every Turtle.

  Smart, Hollister. Establish Us vs. Them. Great way to build a team.

  “Here’s how it’s going to work. The older teams will call a truce with each other, just long enough to get rid of us, the fourth and the fifth years. That way they don’t have to worry about us. They’re bigger than us, faster than us, and they have experience that we don’t. Essentially, they’re better than us in every way.”

  “So, no problem then, right? We’ve got this,” Dominick said, which broke the tension and the Turtles laughed.

  “We’ve got one advantage, and that’s sheer numbers. There are nineteen of us – more than any other class. But the only way to maintain that advantage is to keep our numbers intact. And to do that we need to hide. The problem is, they know all the hiding spots. All except one. When Commander Hartfield starts the game, follow me to the cliff.”

  Uncertain nods came from all sides. Even the Turtles knew that once you hid on the cliff, there was nowhere to run, but they trusted Michael.

  Quietly, Michael said, “Who are we?”

  The group answered, equally as quiet, “The Turtles.”

  Michael stood, raised his voice, “Who are we?”

  The group around him stood as one, shouting, “We are the Turtles, the mighty, mighty Turtles!”

  WHEN THE TURTLES REACHED the cliff, they veered off to the left, single file, along the path that Michael had showed Dominick a few weeks before. They quickly arrived at the sheer rock wall with the heavy vines hanging down.

  Michael and Dominick turned around, faced the rest of the Turtles.

  “Well, here we are,” Dominick said, with a grin.

  ”Hollister, I don’t mean to complain, but this is our great plan? To stand in the middle of a trail and wait for them to come take us down?” Will Summers asked.

  Other Turtles were not so kind.

  “We’re dead.”

  “Can you hear anyone coming?”

  “Crap, I thought you had a plan, Michael.”

  With a theatrical flair, Michael pushed his hand through the vines and pulled them aside enough that the boys could see what was behind them. “Voila,” Michael said.

  “Whoa,” Billy Guenther said, almost in a whisper.

  “Yeah, whoa,” Dominick said. “I told you Michael had a plan.”

  “Are we just going to hide in there?” Billy asked. It was obvious that he, and a number of other Turtles, didn’t relish a day spent in the dank cave.

  Michael and Dominick nodded.

  “Are there flashlights in there, at least?”

  “No, dummy,” Dominick answered. “When they figure out we’ve disappeared, they’re gonna come looking for us in the forest. They’ll see a light through the vines.”

  “So, we’re just gonna hide in there all day?”

  “That’s the plan,” Michael said. “Eventually, they’ll get tired of looking for us, and whatever alliances they’ve formed will fall apart. If we get lucky, they’ll weaken each other enough, so we can swoop in and overwhelm whoever’s left with our numbers.”

  Billy and several other Turtles looked uncertain.

  “It’s either that,” Michael said, “or we go out and face the Hawks, Eagles, and Badgers head-on.”

  “Yeah, then we’ll finish last, just like every other first-year team,” Dominick said. “Is that what you want?”

  No answer.

  “Come on, then, Turtles.” Michael was the first into the cave, followed by Dominick and the rest of the unit. The cave was cramped, and smelled of long-rotting animal kills.

  Terry Jordan scrunched his nose and looked around. “Ugh, so awful! What is that smell?”

  “That’s the decaying bodies of the last unit to hide in here. They never made it out alive,” Dominick said. “You’re next.”

  “Listen, I know it’s not perfect,” Michael said. “Dom and I did what we could to get it ready in here. There are buckets that you can sit on if you get tired of standing, but I don’t recommend sitting on the floor of the cave. It’s pretty gross. And there’s a bucket in the corner if you have to relieve yourself. Other than that, stand still, be quiet, and wait.”

  “How long?”

  “At least until dark. By then, they’ll be pretty frantic. They’ll think we caught a bus into Crescent City or something.”

  Like their namesake, the Turtles pulled their heads into the shell of the cave and waited. They stood or sat noiselessly for more than an hour before they heard the first group of predators looking for them. That first group passed by at a walking pace, chattering and cutting up, talking about home, and the girls in town.

  The waiting went on. Michael and Dominick had known it would be tough to huddle together as noiselessly as possible in the small cave, but anticipating it and actually living it were different things. The hardest part for all of them was the cold. It had started raining in the middle of the afternoon. That helped the marine air wick through their coats and settle into their bones. And sitting or standing for long periods, moving as little as possible, left them stiff and sore.

  Yet still, they waited.

  Michael and Dominick held whispered conversations, when they were sure no other teams were on the trail.

  “They’ve got to be getting frantic about now,” Dominick said.

  Michael smiled in the darkness. “Their alliance is one of convenience, so I don’t expect it to hold for too long. I bet they’re already hunting each other, just to have something to do, and to gain an advantage for the end game.”

  A little after 5:00, more than five hours after the Game had started, a serious group of boys came hunting them. Four upperclassmen, walking slowly, looking under every rock and behind every tree. They followed the game trail that passed in front of the cave and passed by so close that one of their shoulders brushed against the hanging vines, causing them to swing and sway a bit.

  Inside, the Turtles held their breath. This was the moment of truth.

  The boys passed on by, but the boy who had brushed the vines stopped and cocked his head. He took two steps back toward the cave opening. He poked at the vines and his hand passed through them, into nothing but darkness.

  His fingers came within an inch of touching Michael’s shoulder, but everyone in the cave silently leaned back a few inches, just out of range.

  The boy said, “Huh!” and stood thoughtfully on the trail, looking at his hand, as though it might have pas
sed into another dimension and returned. The rest of his group continued walking forward. “Hang on, guys,” the boy called out, “I think there might be something here.” He reached out and tentatively touched the vines, which swayed at his touch. With a flourish, he grabbed the left-most vine and swept his hand to the right, revealing the cave, and the nineteen Turtles hiding there.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Holy shit!” the boy cried. “We found ’em!”

  From the depths of the cave, the nineteen Turtles poured out like ants on a forgotten picnic, swarming the bigger boys under their combined weight. With a war whoop, they took them to the ground.

  The leader of the hunters tried to yell, “We found ‘em!” at the top of his lungs, but with the weight of half a dozen Turtles on his chest, the words did not carry. In seconds, the younger boys had pulled the flags of the four older ones, ending their game.

  Michael, breathing hard with excitement, said, “According to the rules of the Game, you are dead and are not allowed to communicate with your unit.”

  Dominick saw that one of the older boys held a Turtle flag firmly in his grasp and looked around to see who they had lost.

  Billy Guenther stepped forward and raised his hand.

  “Billy,” Michael said, “it’s not that I don’t trust the honor of these fine Badgers, but make sure they don’t communicate with anyone else on the way to the library. We’re going to rebuild the vines as best we can and stay right here until full dark.”

  The five vanquished boys, four large and one small, headed down the trail for the school. Yet only four of them walked dejectedly with their heads down.

  When they had disappeared down the trail. Michael said, “Okay, we’re not really staying here, but here’s what we’re gonna do. Freddy, you stay here in the cave, hidden as best you can. We’re going to be on the move. If someone is about to capture you here, scream at the top of your lungs how many of them there are. Got it?”

  Freddy nodded.

  Dominick and the rest of the boys did the best they could to repair the damage that had been done to the vines, to make it look like Turtles might still be hiding inside.

  With that done, the Turtles jogged down the path for fifty yards, until they came to a spot where the underbrush closed in and the trail was pinched down by large rocks on either side, causing them to walk in single file.

  The Turtles divided themselves, with half of them hiding behind the rock on either side of the trail, leaving Michael as bait in the middle. They didn’t have to wait long before they heard Freddy scream “Four,” before he fell silent.

  Michael kneeled down on the trail, as though he was tying his shoe, unaware of the impending danger. Almost immediately, four Badgers came at a full run. The leader saw Michael, apparently vulnerable on the trail in front of them and screamed, “There he is!”

  Michael feigned surprise, said, “Oh, crap,” and turned to run away, but stumbled and fell. He crawled away from the boys on his hands and knees.

  “Wait a minute,” the lead boy said, squinting into the falling darkness. “Is this the little shit that’s supposed to be so smart? He don’t look like much to—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, the Turtles swarmed again. The Badgers were so surprised, they went down without taking a single Turtle with them.

  Dominick turned to Michael and said, “We’ll trade four for one all day, but how long do we think they’ll keep falling for it?”

  “I don’t think this routine will work anymore. The Badgers we just trapped will find a way to get word to everyone. We’ll have to find a different plan.”

  The Turtles set off down the path, then veered off onto another, more obscure animal trail that Michael and Dominick had scouted out. A few yards off the main trail, they found where a huge tree had fallen and had lodged itself against a boulder and in the lower branches of two neighboring trees.

  “This spot was too obvious during the day,” Michael whispered, “but I think we’ll be okay here for a few minutes, now that it’s mostly dark.” He laid a hand on Dominick’s shoulder. “Dom, you’re our fastest. Make a scouting run, but don’t be gone too long. If you’re not back in thirty minutes, we’ll assume you’re dead and make a new plan.”

  Dominick smiled and headed back to the main trail. He wound his way down it, toward the cliff, trying to strike the best balance he could between speed and silence.

  Damn, this is fun. Who knew playing a kid’s game could be this exhilarating?

  He came to the edge of the forest that bordered the cliff and dropped down onto a ledge where he could stick his head up over the edge. He saw two boys in the far corner, huddled down in a depression. Michael had been right. Their flashlights only served to give them away.

  Dominick slipped up over the edge of the cliff in the covering darkness and made his way back to the forest.

  Only two people in evidence. I expected more.

  He jogged more quickly now, less worried about stumbling into a marauding patrol of upper classmen. He found the edge of the forest where it ran parallel to the great lawn at the front of the school. He hid behind an oak tree and peered out. Again, two boys, this time standing at the flag pole, silhouetted from behind by the lights that pointed up at the flags.

  Andy Tanner and Bob Morgan. Figures. Andy’s the fastest runner in the school, so of course he’s their flag bearer. I’ll never be able to run him down.

  Dominick slipped back into the cover of the forest, then moved silently to the nearest building – the staff quarters. There were no lights on inside the building and it gave him perfect cover as he slid along the back of it.

  Where are all the other classes?

  Dominick moved noiselessly between the buildings, but couldn’t find a sign of anyone.

  Gonna have to take a chance. I might get captured, but I don’t know enough to report back yet.

  There was a tall row of hedges that surrounded the main building of the academy, which held the great hall, Commander Hartfield’s office, and the library, where all the vanquished players would be.

  The rules of the game said that an active player couldn’t go inside any of the buildings, but there was no rule about hiding behind the hedges. Dominick edged behind them and moved toward the long windows of the library. He reached the nearest one and slowly peeked around the corner.

  The room was brightly lit, with a table holding cookies, hot cider, and hot chocolate. Much more importantly, the library was full of cadets. Dominick dropped his head away and closed his eyes, trying to take a mental picture of how many cadets he had seen.

  The answer he came up with astounded him. All of them. It looks like all of them are already in there. Holy shit, that means that those four I saw out there, and all the Turtles hiding in the woods, are the last players remaining. We could actually win this!

  Dominick glanced at his watch. My half hour’s almost up. They’ll think I’ve been captured. Abandoning all attempts at quiet, Dominick jumped out of the hedge and ran straight for the trail he had followed. Even if they see me, I’ve got a big enough head start, I can lead them right back to a trap where we can overpower them with sheer numbers.

  He tore across the grass and into the welcoming embrace of the deep forest. He paused and looked back over his shoulder. No one was following him.

  Good. Probably would have killed myself again trying to follow this rabbit trail in the dark.

  He set off at a steady jog. After a few minutes, he arrived at the two rocks that pinched the trail.

  Damn. Passed that little turn off in the dark. Gonna have to be more careful.

  He backtracked fifty paces, and found the spur trail. He turned onto it, and in a few more steps, he was at the fallen tree.

  “Good news?” Michael asked.

  Dominick’s face split in a grin that could be seen even in the dark. He held up his hand, and bent over double to catch his breath. “They must have gotten tired of depleting themselves by sending scout team
s after us, so they went after each other. There’s only two teams left, and two people on each of them. I snuck over and looked in the library window. You won’t believe it—everyone’s in there just waiting for the game to finish.”

  Michael pumped his hand once. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for. Do you know where the last two teams are?”

  “Well, I know where they were. The two Badgers are just hanging around the flagpole. I think they’re counting on the fact that Andy can outrun anyone in the school.”

  Michael nodded, thoughtfully. He looked at Dominick. “Any chance you could catch him?”

  “None at all.” If I had another few years to grow, maybe. But right now? No way, brother.

  “Who’s the other team?”

  “The Hawks. They’re both hanging out back at the track.”

  “Good. We’ll have to expose Will to attract them, but it’s worth the risk.”

  “Let’s go.”

  When they arrived back at the edge of the forest, Michael said, “Will, here’s all you do. Try to creep along the edge of the forest, like you’re scared. Maybe limp a little. Hopefully, they’ll see you and come after you.”

  “It’s dark,” Will said. “I don’t think they’ll see me.”

  Michael fished in his pocket. “That’s what I’ve been saving this for.” He handed Will a flashlight. “Don’t be too obvious with it, right? Just flash it on the ground ahead of you, like you’re looking for a trail or something. They’ll see you and come after you. We’ll be right behind you, and we’ll strip them of their flags as they run by us.”

  Will eased out into the grass, wet with the remainder of the afternoon’s rain. They hadn’t needed to worry about the Hawks spotting Will. They were on the lookout and spotted him almost immediately.

  One of the Hawks illuminated Will with his flashlight. Then another flashlight beam, and another, and another.

  Hiding just at the edge of the forest, Michael whispered, “I thought there were only two Hawks left?”