Into the Gauntlet

by Margaret Peterson Haddix

  "It's like that famous Shakespeare quote," Eisenhower added, hovering nearby. He squinted, as if thinking hard. Then his face lit up. "Shakespeare always said, 'Be prepared.'"

  "That's not a Shakespeare quote!" Dan protested. "It's the Boy Scout motto!"

  "And the Girl Scouts'!" Amy added.

  Eisenhower's smug expression didn't change.

  "Yeah, well, what good is all that fancy knowledge doing you?" he asked. "We Holts are going to leave you down here in the dust. And us --we're going to be up there!" He pointed to the top of the cliff like it was heaven itself. "Claiming the final prize. Holts are going to rule the world forever!" He stuck his ax into the first crack in the side of the cliff. "Who's laughing at us now?"

  He knows, Amy thought. He knows this is the final stop. The final chance to win. Which... Dan and I aren't going to do.

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  "So what if you can climb better than us!" Dan yelled as all five Holts began ascending the cliff. "The prize isn't just sitting up there waiting for you to claim it! There's a door and a keypad! Bet you anything the door is locked! Bet it's going to take a math puzzle to solve the keypad code! Bet you're just going to have to climb right back down here to beg for my help!"

  The Holts just kept climbing.

  * * *

  This is the greatest day of my life, Eisenhower Holt thought.

  He was dangling from a rope thousands of feet above the ground, the fresh sea air in his face, his wife and children by his side. With the exertion, the family togetherness, the adrenaline coursing through his veins --with all that, the climb itself was enough to make this a wonderful day.

  But this climb would be the best of his life. He'd had a horrible day yesterday, but at least it'd given him valuable information. And now he knew that ultimate victory awaited him at the top of the cliff. His family was about to win the biggest prize they could ever win --the biggest prize anyone could ever win.

  True, Eisenhower hadn't quite figured out what the final prize in the Clue hunt would be. But he knew it would be something so great it would outweigh everything he'd ever failed at. It would make up for getting kicked out of West Point. It would make up for losing

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  that security guard job when he'd accidentally Tasered his own rear end. It would make up for the other Tomas laughing at him--for everyone laughing at him.

  And it proved that one of his favorite quotations in the whole wide world was true: "It's not whether you get knocked down; it's whether you get up."

  The great football coach Vince Lombardi had said that. Eisenhower wished that there'd been something in the hunt requiring Vince Lombardi quotes because Eisenhower knew them all: "Winning isn't everything; it's the only thing."

  "If winning isn't everything, why do they keep score?" And ...

  "Dad," Hamilton said softly beside him. "Look."

  Eisenhower planted his foot as firmly as he could on a three-inch spike and turned his head. Surprise almost made him lose his grip on the rope: Jonah Wizard was stepping out onto the beach from a yacht. The Kabra kids were parachuting down from a small plane. And Alistair Oh had just surfaced on the beach in something that looked vaguely like a submarine.

  The competition had arrived.

  "Guess we weren't the only ones who used a tracking device," Hamilton muttered.

  "The girls and I will go down and hold off our opponents," Mary-Todd volunteered. "Eisenhower, honeybun, you and Hamilton go claim the prize for all of us."

  Eisenhower spared a second to gaze lovingly at his wife as she and the girls began their descent.

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  "See, that's teamwork," Eisenhower told Hamilton. "Your mother knew what had to be done, and she did it. It's all about the team. And in this family, the family is the team. I mean, the team is the family. I mean..."

  "I know what you mean, Dad," Hamilton said, which was a big relief for Eisenhower because he'd kind of lost track himself.

  Hamilton was quiet for a minute. With just about any other kid--any non-Holt--Eisenhower might have thought it was because the boy was inching up a sheer rock face with little more than a rope and a few carabiner clips between him and death. But Hamilton could climb a little old cliff like this in his sleep.

  "Get moving!" Eisenhower barked, because that was the only way to deal with mopey kids.

  But Hamilton hung for a second too long by the point of his ax. He sighed.

  "Do you remember when I was little, and you'd come to my games?" Hamilton asked. "Do you remember what the other parents said?"

  "You mean--'Holt, your kid's the best one on the whole team'?" Eisenhower asked. Actually, what the parents had mostly said was, "Holt, make your kid stop beating up my kid!" Or, "Holt, you'll be paying my kid's medical bills for the rest of your life!" But Eisenhower knew what the parents had really meant.

  "No," Hamilton said. "That other thing. Something

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  like ... 'It's not whether you win or lose. It's how you play the game.'"

  "Oooh," Eisenhower said. "You mean, what the losers' parents said. To make them think it's okay to lose. How else would winners like us ever have people to play against if losers didn't think that?"

  "What if that's not what that saying really means?" Hamilton asked. "What if it means that... winning doesn't mean anything ... if you cheat?"

  A feather could have knocked Eisenhower off the cliff face at that moment.

  Does ... does my son think I cheat? Eisenhower wondered.

  This was the worst day of Eisenhower's life.

  "Et tu, Hamilton?" Eisenhower gasped.

  "Dad?" Hamilton said in a strangled voice. "You're quoting Shakespeare?"

  Eisenhower guessed he was. He almost let himself feel a burst of pride that he knew any Shakespeare -- even if it was just two syllables. But what was pride worth if his own son was ashamed of him?

  No matter what the Clue-hunt prize turned out to be, it wouldn't be worth anything if Hamilton wasn't proud, too. Hamilton and the girls --that's who Eisenhower wanted to win for.

  "In the clue hunt," Eisenhower managed to gasp. "You think we're not winning ... fair and square?"

  "Amy and Dan figured out how to get here," Hamilton said. "And all along, things you thought I

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  was figuring out... lots of it was stuff Amy and Dan told me. We don't deserve the prize. They do."

  For a moment, Eisenhower felt like he was dangling over a huge void, held up only by the thinnest of threads, a cold wind at his back. Actually, that was a fairly accurate description of Eisenhower's position, vis-à-vis the cliff and all. But Eisenhower hadn't even felt the chill in the wind until just now; the void below him hadn't felt so empty and vast.

  Then he realized where his son had gotten confused.

  "Ham, Ham, Ham," Eisenhower chuckled. "You've been seeing this clue hunt like it's just another game. I do that with most things, too. But there's a big difference. Games have rules. The clue hunt doesn't. It's not cheating if there aren't rules."

  "What about the rules you're just supposed to follow in life?" Hamilton asked. "The ones that make you a decent person?"

  Eisenhower stared at his son. He'd heard other parents say they didn't understand their kids, but Eisenhower himself had never known what that was like.

  Now he did.

  "I'm not saying we should just give Amy and Dan the win," Hamilton said quickly, shifting his feet against the mountainside. "I'm just saying we should ... share."

  "You mean--have a tie?" Eisenhower asked incredulously. "My own son wants to settle for a tie?"

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  "It's not like that," Hamilton said. "It's like ... you know how baseball teams get new players every year in the draft? Or through trades?" For some reason, he'd completely stopped climbing and was just hanging on to the cliff face. "Think of it like we're drafting Amy and Dan."

  "But our team is our family," Eisenhower countered. "We don't have trades! We don't do a draft!"

&nbs
p; Hamilton peered deep into his father's eyes.

  "We could if we wanted to," he said. "Amy and Dan are our family, too."

  "No," Eisenhower said stubbornly. "No. You're wrong." He was shaking his head so hard he could barely hold on to the cliff. "They're not Holts! I'm the team captain! I'm your father! Nobody's on our team unless I say so!"

  This was awful. His own son was almost sounding like those men in the shadowy room yesterday--the men who'd lured him away from his family with the promise of extra Clues, extra help, if he cooperated. Those men had practically kidnapped him, held him hostage. They'd talked about the number of Clues, and which teams were ahead, and how nobody had enough Clues to win alone.

  Eisenhower knew what all that talk really meant: The Clue hunt was almost over, and the men were upset because the Holts were winning.

  So why had they just let him go at the end? Why hadn't they beaten him up -- even killed him--instead of only warning, "We'll be watching"?

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  "Dad, think," Hamilton said, which was cruel, after what Eisenhower had told him at the Manchester United game. "If we don't team up with Dan and Amy, we could still lose. What if everybody else teams up against us? You didn't see how the others were acting yesterday at that church. Nobody was even fighting! I mean, not until last night."

  "Anybody can pretend," Eisenhower sneered.

  Pretend...

  It was a good thought. No, it was a brilliant thought.

  Especially if anyone really was watching.

  * * *

  Madison Holt bent her head back, staring straight up the cliff.

  "Mom!" she called. "Why are Daddy and Hamilton coming back down? Was the prize only halfway up the cliff?"

  * * *

  Hamilton will understand in the end, Eisenhower told himself as he climbed. For a moment he couldn't remember if he was going up or down. Then he went back to moving automatically. After we win, he'll see why Dan and Amy could never really be part of our team. He'll be proud of the way I'm faking everyone out. Even him.

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  CHAPTER 21

  "Don't trust them."

  Amy's last words still echoed in Dan's ears. Everything had happened so fast: Hamilton and Eisenhower jumping down from the cliff, Hamilton grabbing Dan, Eisenhower waving his ax at the others and proclaiming, "We're taking Dan with us to get the prize. Everyone else -- stay back."

  Amy had run to Dan's side, crying, "Let me kiss my brother good-bye!" -- ewww--and Dan had known she was going to whisper something in his ear. He expected one last attempt to cram Shakespeare info into his head or something about being careful climbing the mountain. But, "Don't trust them"?

  Hamilton's carrying me up the side of a cliff. We're thousands and thousands of feet up in the air. If he lets go, I'm dead meat. And I'm not supposed to trust him?

  Dan did trust Hamilton --when he wasn't around his father. But Eisenhower was just a few feet away, ascending the cliff right beside his son. Eisenhower could easily reach over and slash a knife through the

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  ropes that held Dan on Hamilton's back. Or Eisenhower could easily tell Hamilton to cut those ropes himself. Dan shivered.

  "Do you mind not moving?" Hamilton asked. "It throws me off a little."

  Below them, chunks of stone plunged down the cliff. Dan's shiver had made Hamilton lose his footing and kick away the stones. Hamilton was hanging on to the cliff by only two fingers.

  Dan held his breath while Hamilton found toeholds for both his feet.

  "Don't you dare do that again!" Eisenhower barked at Dan. "Don't you endanger my son!"

  Dan took a very small breath. He imagined what it would be like to have a father protecting him that way.

  Now was not a good time to think about stuff like that, though. Because he might slip and say something to Eisenhower like, "You know, I could be climbing this cliff with my own father right now--if you hadn't helped kill him."

  Eisenhower glared harder, and for a moment Dan feared he had spoken aloud.

  No, he's just straining to reach the next handhold, Dan told himself. Chill. You're safe until you get to the top of the cliff.

  Dan figured the two Holts had come back for him because they really did think they'd need him to solve whatever puzzle waited at the top of the cliff.

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  But what would happen after that?

  What would Eisenhower do to him then?

  * * *

  It was a long, slow climb.

  After going halfway up, down, and then up again with Dan on his back, Hamilton had entered the zone where he could think about nothing but rock. Rock above him, rock below him, rock smashed against his face as he inched higher and higher.

  Then came a moment when he reached up and touched only air. He brought his hand down flat, spreading his fingers freely for once.

  They were at the top.

  Now what?

  The three of us will solve a puzzle, Hamilton told himself. We'll win the prize. And--we Holts will share it with Dan and Amy. Dad promised.

  He and Eisenhower crept carefully onto the narrow rock ledge that lay before the door. They began pulling up ropes, unclipping carabiners. As soon as he was free of his own ropes, Dan scrambled toward the door and the keypad.

  "G-guess I'd better start solving this thing," he said in a thin, reedy voice. His mouth must have gotten really dry on the climb. "Th-then I bet there are a lot more puzzles you'll need me to solve, after the door. You'll probably need Amy and Nellie's help, too."

  Dan wobbled a little as he walked --like he had

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  climbers' legs, even though he hadn't been doing the climbing.

  Then he tripped.

  Dan fell straight toward the door and the keypad, his hands outstretched. The palm of his left hand slammed directly against the keypad, smashing it in.

  The door slid open.

  "Whaddya know," Hamilton grunted, looking up from his ropes. "Guess there wasn't any special trick to that. No puzzle or math skills required."

  Dan jerked back from the keypad as if it'd been electrified. He whirled around, his eyes wide and terrified. He glanced once at Eisenhower, then he darted toward Hamilton.

  "No!" he screamed. "You'll need me later! You still need my help!"

  He grabbed Hamilton's arm and cowered behind his bulk.

  Hamilton would have been fine if he hadn't been so surprised. Or if he hadn't just climbed up an entire cliff. Or if Dan hadn't been so off-kilter.

  But Dan's yank was just a little too hard. Hamilton had to jerk back in the opposite direction to keep from crashing down onto the narrow rock ledge. He over-corrected. Both he and Dan lost their balance. They fell --and kept falling.

  Right off the edge of the cliff.

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  CHAPTER 22

  Dan squeezed his eyes shut because he didn't want to see this: the ground rushing toward them, death rushing toward them.

  Amy will be so sad, he thought. Nellie, too. I hope they're kind of mad at me, too, so they're not just crying all the time....

  Dan realized that he seemed to have a lot of time to think for someone plunging toward the ground.

  Then he realized he'd stopped falling.

  "Huh," Hamilton said. "Guess it's a good thing I still had the rope attached to my climbing harness."

  Dan dared to open his eyes.

  They were dangling alongside the cliff again. Dan could see straight down to the cemetery, far below. He looked up: Hamilton was above him, clutching Dan's wrists every bit as tightly as Dan was holding on to Ham's arm.

  But Dan wasn't wearing a climbing harness. Dan wasn't attached to any rope.

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  I could still fall, Dan thought. If my hands slip, if Hamilton lets go ...

  He didn't dare to look down again. He didn't want to see all the empty air between him and the cemetery--empty air that would be so easy to fall through.

  "Didn't I tell you not to endanger my son?" Ei
senhower bellowed from above them, clutching the rope that was attached to Hamilton's harness.

  "Dad, why don't you pull us up before you start screaming?" Hamilton said.

  He spoke calmly, but Dan could feel his hands beginning to slide. They were sweating. Slippery. Losing their grip.

  "The way these ropes are, I'm not sure I can save you both," Eisenhower said frantically. He seemed to be yanking ropes around, diving for extra clips. Hamilton and Dan lurched a little lower. "I can't--"

  "You're going to have to," Hamilton said. "Because I'm not letting Dan fall."

  Dan's ears were ringing too much to hear what Eisenhower or Hamilton said next. But the rope jerked up. And then it was Eisenhower's hands lifting him over the rim of the cliff, pulling him back to safety. Dan scooted as far away from the ledge as he could, across the rock, through the open door in the rock wall. He wasn't thinking about where the door might lead. He wasn't even thinking about the Clue hunt anymore. He let his eyes close again.

  Safe, he thought. I'm safe. I'm not going to die. Hamilton

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  didn't let me fall. Eisenhower didn't let me fall. He wasn't even going to hurt me before. I just got scared.

  Then Eisenhower punched him right in the face.

  * * *

  "You could have killed my son!" Eisenhower screamed at Dan.

  Now that everyone was safe, Eisenhower let the fury flow over him. He grabbed Dan by the shoulders and shook him. Dan's head rattled against the ground. He looked groggily up at Eisenhower, like a quarterback who'd taken too many hits.

  "You could have made me lose Hamilton!" Eisenhower repeated. He had to make Dan understand how awful that would have been, how close Dan had come to ruining everything.