by Chad Morris
One thousand—who cares? Derick couldn’t wait. He barreled into the room, running his rhino in as fast as he could. He tried to roar, but it came out more of a groan. His entrance felt anticlimactic, but it would have to do.
The guards whirled, triggering their guns to come out of their sleeves and aiming at the charging rhino.
• • •
“Let’s move the keys now,” Coach Horne began, “back to the—” He didn’t finish his sentence. He stared down the barrel of a gun, attached to Mr. Hendricks’s hand.
“Everyone in!” Mr. Hendricks yelled, and motioned with his barrel for the group to enter the past, to go onto the Titanic.
“You’re insane!” Coach Adonavich said.
“No, I’m not,” Mr. Hendricks said. “This is a chance of a lifetime. We can change everything.”
“Oh, this is bad. So bad. So terribly bad,” Carol mumbled to herself.
“How do you know that we do not share your opinion on time travel?” Coach Horne asked.
“Because I know very well who is working for Muns and who is not,” Mr. Hendricks said. “And none of you are. In fact, I appreciated receiving the locket you used to wear, Horne.”
“It was you who took it?” he asked.
“No. We have a professional for those things, but I was happy to take it and work through its challenges from here in the school. Now go in.”
Coach Horne looked at those on the Titanic, which was standing nearly vertical, and then back at Hendricks. “No,” he said. “I think I’d rather make you shoot me, make you a murderer, than let you shift the responsibility to a tragedy in time. I’ll die either way. If you believe in your cause so much, kill me. Eventually someone will come to this basement, and they’ll discover—”
“Get in,” Mr. Hendricks said. “I’ll reverse the tragedy when the time is right, and you’ll be back. But for right now, I need you out of the way.”
“You don’t know that,” Coach Adonavich said. “You don’t know for sure if you’ll be able to reverse this whole thing or that we’ll come back.”
“It will work,” Mr. Hendricks said.
“I know how he got to you, Hendricks,” Horne said. “It was when your wife died. He’s probably made you promises about bringing her back. You don’t know that he’ll be able to keep those promises, and even if he could, bringing her back might kill countless other people.”
“It will work!” Mr. Hendricks shouted.
“I’m not stepping in there!” Coach Horne yelled back. “You’ll have to kill me. You’ll have to create your own tragedy that someone else will pine over, that someone else will wish hadn’t happened. You’ll have to take the responsibility.”
Mr. Hendricks flicked his finger. A bullet rocketed out of the barrel.
33
Death Trap
The Titanic broke in half. The weight of the front part of the ship under water put too much pressure on the rest of the ship, making steel plates, wooden decks, and cables to the smokestacks all splinter and snap. The back part of the ship that was still above the water slapped down against the ocean.
Abby couldn’t believe how much the impact hurt. The ship beneath her took the brunt of the impact, but she still felt bruises on her shoulder and back. A trickle of blood dripped from her forehead to her cheek.
Abby’s father groaned. She found him quickly and made her way to his side. He looked up at her. “We have to get out of here,” she said. “It’s going to sink.”
“How do we get out?” Mom yelled, scooting next to her.
“They should be able to move the perspective on the Bridge so we can walk out,” Abby said. “Just reach out, search around, and look for anyone stepping in to get us.”
They all moved around, waiting for some sensation, some portal back to their time. Nothing happened.
“Maybe they can’t move it once someone comes in,” Abby guessed. “Maybe we have to go back the same way.”
“You came in way up there,” her mom said, pointing up in the air.
“Wait for a minute,” her father said. “The ship will rise again right before it goes down. We should be able to reach the portal then.”
Abby clutched the rail and waited.
• • •
Derick loved the look of surprise in their eyes. Who could blame them? There was no way they would expect to see a charging rhino in a university’s lecture hall.
A gorilla fell down on top of two of them and bashed the gun barrel of a third.
The three remaining guards shot at Derick. He thrust his rhino head to one side, and with a swing of his horn and the momentum of his body, he uprooted a string of metal stadium chairs from the floor and flung them in the air. Bullets ricocheted off the metal, but two pierced the rhino avatar’s tough skin. He’d been shot. He felt like pieces of hot iron had poked through him.
In the lab, the real Derick screamed in pain.
Rafa leapt on top of another guard, and with a blow to the head, knocked him unconscious. Another guard turned on him, but Rafa managed to propel himself with his long arms and kick the man right off the stage.
Feeling lightheaded and weak, Derick lost control of his body. He stumbled forward, trying desperately to somehow guide his huge mass toward the guards. He plowed through row after row of chairs. He lost control of his feet and awkwardly rolled over and over, seats flying in every direction.
Rafa ran toward the one remaining guard. The man raised his gun. Derick, his vision hazy, saw the guard aim at Rafa. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Just before the guard got off a shot, Derick hooked a nearby chair with his horn and hurled it in the man’s direction. The chair only grazed the man’s back, but it distracted him enough to make the gun’s aim go wild, giving Rafa the chance to knock him over and dislodge the barrel from the man’s wrist. The guard tried to rise again, but with a sweep of Rafa’s long, hairy gorilla arm, he sent the last of the guards into unconsciousness.
From his seat, Grandpa spoke. “I really hope you are avatars, or I’m in some serious trouble.”
“They are,” Ms. Entrese said, running down the aisle. “Oscar, the rhino is your grandson.”
“Derick?” he said, standing up and shuffling toward the edge of the stage. “Are you okay?”
Derick managed to get to his feet and shake his rhino head. Sparks erupted from the bullet wounds.
“You’re amazing,” Grandpa clapped his hands. “How did you ever learn to control something as large as a rhinoceros?”
Derick groaned in pain and fell down to his belly.
“Derick!” Grandpa moved toward his grandson. “Are you okay?”
Derrick managed a nod. “Abby’s trying to get her key to bring Jefferson and his wife back,” Ms. Entrese said, pointing to the screen.
“I saw her enter,” Grandpa said, and turned to watch the deck of the Titanic. After locating Abby and her parents to confirm that they were still alive, Grandpa turned to the rhino. “Derick, are you and your friend in the lab at Cragbridge?”
Derick nodded, his vision tunneling.
“You must help your sister,” Grandpa said. “I’ve heard enough while being tied up here to know that Muns has been monitoring the school. He must have a mole on the inside. He’ll get the others’ keys, and then he’ll trap them all back in time.”
• • •
Coach Horne grabbed his shoulder, where the bullet had entered.
“No!” Carol cried.
Coach Adonavich gasped and took a step back.
“Get in the Bridge!” Mr. Hendricks yelled.
“Never!” Coach Horne said. “You do it. You take responsibility. Put my blood on your hands!”
“Stop this!” Coach Adonavich screamed.
Carol started to cry.
Coach Horne took two steps forward, but Mr. Hendricks pulled the trigger again. The huge coach stumbled back, shot in the leg above the knee.
“Enough!” Coach Adonavich yelled. “Stop this.”
• • •
The stern of the Titanic groaned and rose out of the water again. The sinking half was pulling the stern up as it fell farther into the ocean deep.
Abby and her parents clung to the railing as they moved higher and higher into the air.
“The way back in should be here,” Abby said, reaching for the air before her, hoping to feel the same sensation as when she’d come through. “They’ll have it open for us.”
“Is it working?” her mom asked.
“I don’t know,” Abby said. “I can’t feel it. Maybe it’s farther out. We might just have to jump for it.” She reached again, but nothing happened.
“But what if it’s not there?” her mom asked.
“Then we fall into the water with everyone else,” Dad said. “We’ll have to risk it.”
34
Skid
Open it,” Carol demanded. “Let them back in!” She looked at Abby on the ship, feeling for the way back, but the Bridge was closed. “Please!”
“No.” Hendricks wiped sweat from his temples. “She has to stay out of the way. And so do all of you.”
“What are you going to do?” Coach Adonavich asked.
“It wasn’t supposed to be this complicated,” Mr. Hendricks said. “We were supposed to know the secrets by now. Oscar wasn’t supposed to let anyone get hurt. He was supposed to tell us. But now I’ve got to ...” He looked at the two coaches and Carol, and raised his barrel at them.
“I don’t want to die,” Carol sobbed.
“None of us do,” Coach Adonavich said.
Coach Horne moaned, still nursing his wound.
Mr. Hendricks pointed the gun at Coach Adonavich, then at Horne, then back at Carol. “I don’t want to kill you ... It’s just that—”
“I have too many things to do,” Carol cried. “I’ve never been married. I’ve never even gone out with Derick. I have a great idea for a new reality TV show, and I’ll never get to pitch it, so they can tell me it’s terrible—”
Mr. Hendricks walked toward her with the gun. “Look. There is a lot on the line, and I don’t have many options at this point.”
“I’ll never get to go to that new water park. I don’t remember its name, but it has the tallest waterslide—the one that drops you like fifty feet, but slows you down with air pressure. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.” Her voice grew louder, but she didn’t even look at Hendricks. “I don’t want to die!”
“Calm down,” Mr. Hendricks said, his finger poised on the trigger. “Don’t worry. It’ll be quick, and then before you know it, you’ll be back.”
“You can’t promise that,” Coach Adonavich said. “Don’t lie to the girl.”
“You’ll hardly even feel it,” Hendricks promised.
Carol erupted in wails and groans. She clutched at her hair. She fell to the ground, tears spilling over her cheeks. She opened her mouth and wailed. Her eyes, shifting back and forth, filled with tears over and over again. Her fear burst out anywhere it could. Her arms trembled. She clutched her hair. She swayed back and forth. She’d lost all control—completely crumbled under the pressure. She looked hysterical.
Only a foot away, Mr. Hendricks said, “It’s time to calm down.”
In one swift motion, Carol grabbed the gun barrel from Mr. Hendricks’s hand and swept his feet out from under him. The gun fired across the room, and the bullet ricocheted off the hard walls.
Carol wasn’t crying anymore.
Coach Horne lumbered forward and pounced on Mr. Hendricks, punching him unconscious with one blow.
“Get the keys!” Carol yelled.
• • •
Derick and Rafa tore the avatar suits off and raced down the hall. They whipped around one corner and then another, rushing out of the building and into Cragbridge Hall.
While running, Derick logged onto his rings. He tried to sync up to warn his sister. He had to warn her that men were coming. His computer screen simply read “Out of range.”
She must still be back in time.
As he rounded another corner, Derick caught a glimpse of a shadow just passing the other end of the hall. Not many students roamed the halls at night. Derick slowed and shushed Rafa. They clung to the sides of a wall and quickly moved to the end. Derick peeked around the corner. Several men—perhaps ten or so—dressed in blazers, button-up shirts and khaki pants, approached a closet door. They looked like teachers. One glanced over his shoulder; Derick pulled back. In that split second, Derick recognized the man—he had a flat nose and thick eyebrows. He was the man who’d been disguised as a policeman—he took Abby’s key.
After a few moments, Derick peeked around the corner again. The men entered the closet and closed it behind them.
“Must be another way to get back to the basement,” Derick said.
“But they’ll have to go through a simulator, won’t they?” Rafa asked.
“I guess so, unless their mole already has and can let them in on the other side,” Derick said.
“We could go the way you already know,” Rafa said. “We might be able to beat them there.”
“No,” Derick said, thinking quickly. “Abby has our key, so unless she’s waiting for us, we can’t get in. These guys either have a key, or their mole has left the way open. We have to follow them if we want to help Abby.”
They ran down the hall to the closet. They tried the handle—locked.
“To get in at the dead end,” Derick thought aloud, “you have to push a part of the Endurance on the molding. It’s different from the other things around it, but similar enough to blend in. Look around for any sign.”
They both searched the area.
“The molding is all the same,” Rafa said.
“Okay, so it’s something else.” Derick looked at the doorframe, hoping to find anything irregular. It all seemed uniform. Wait—the hinges. The bottom one was different. The phrase “small hinges” was written on it. Derick seemed to remember Grandpa saying that big doors always swing on small hinges. It was some metaphor about little things making a big difference. Derick pushed the letters and heard a click.
• • •
Coach Horne reached inside Mr. Hendricks’s pocket and pulled out two keys. “The other one fell to the ground,” he said.
Coach Adonavich dropped to the floor and joined Coach Horne in sweeping the ground with their hands. Carol looked at the Bridge. “Abby’s feeling the air to get back.”
“We need one more key,” Coach Horne said, wincing as he moved his arm across the floor. The bullet wound sent a sting of pain through his arm. “It has to be here.”
“I think they’re going to jump!” Carol yelled.
• • •
“Are you sure the way back was right there?” Abby’s dad asked.
“No,” Abby said. “But I don’t have any other ideas.”
“Then let’s risk it,” he said. He looked at his wife, who nodded back.
“On the count of three,” he said. “One—I love you both. Two—Abby ... thanks for coming back for us. Three.”
Abby, her dad, and her mom all pushed off the railing, trying to jump toward the room in the modern-day basement of Cragbridge Hall.
Abby felt no scalding feeling followed by cold. There was no change of scene. Only terror. Freezing air whipped across Abby’s body as she and her parents plummeted toward the icy waters below.
• • •
Derick tried to step gingerly as he and Rafa hurried down the hall toward the Bridge. He could hear the men a good distance in front of them, but he didn’t want them to have a clue that someone was following them.
As Derick and Rafa moved forward
, the voices grew louder; the men had stopped moving. Derick slowed his pace and Rafa followed suit. He could barely make out their mumbling words as two of them spoke.
“Is it unlocked like he promised?”
“Yes.”
“We need to retrieve all the keys.”
“Correct. Muns wants to add them to the one he has.”
“Don’t shut the door behind you. We may need to leave in a hurry.”
They proceeded down the long tunnel to the Bridge.
• • •
Abby fell through the air in 1912. She only had seconds before she collided with the water. Why wasn’t the portal open? What had happened? Had she risked so much, only to die with her parents?
Then again, would she have had it any other way? She’d done her best. She’d made it to the Bridge and crossed through time and found her parents. Now something was keeping them all from traveling back. Would they survive the impact of the ocean? If so, could they wait in the cold water for the others to find and save them? No. She couldn’t take the space of someone who was on a lifeboat; those people needed to live. She couldn’t change history. It was over. Staying in the water meant death.
• • •
“Found the last key,” Coach Adonavich said. She stood and raced to the console, grabbing the two keys from Coach Horne as she went. Carol ran to the console to meet her. Once all the keys were in place, Coach Adonavich commanded, “Turn the keys.” Carol and the coach simultaneously turned the keys.
Carol moved her hands across the screen, changing the Bridge’s perspective.
“Bring them in on an angle,” Coach Adonavich said.
• • •
Abby held her breath and braced for impact. A split second before crashing into the Atlantic ocean, she hit a slide—the hardest, most uncomfortable slide she had ever experienced. But it wasn’t frigid, salty ocean. She skidded across the hard floor beneath Cragbridge Hall, careening out of control. She felt the heat of the friction against her jeans, tearing her flesh. Then she hit the back wall with a thud.
Someone was touching her. Someone was talking. Abby had to shake her head and blink several times before she could see straight.
