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Authors: Sigmund Brouwer

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“Listen,” I said, “the long days and stress got to him. He did something that's too easy for any doctor to do. He started prescribing drugs to himself. Pretty soon that wasn't enough. Once he was hooked, he started stealing drugs from the hospital because if he prescribed as much as he wanted, people would know what was happening. Then he discovered cocaine. Six months of it cost our family nearly everything we owned. It ripped our life apart.”

I had Jason's attention.

“When my dad was at his lowest,” I said, “he finally figured out that he had turned to cocaine because he wanted something to
fill his emptiness. When he started looking for answers, the emptiness gradually went away.”

“Just like that,” Jason said. “Say your prayers and everything's all better.”

“No,” I said, “it was a long way back for him. And for our family. He went into rehab and had to be certified as a doctor again. But he found purpose. And peace.” I paused to take a breath.

“Look,” I said, “could it hurt to at least think about what I'm saying?”

I could see that Jason was considering what I had said.

I could also see past him. I watched as a car with three people in it drove up the street to the parking lot. A police car followed.

chapter twenty-six

I was nearly out of time.

“Jason,” I said, “the Black Roses had you join the track team so you could pretend to make friends with Coach Lewis. You figured out he doesn't know much about computers.”

His face darkened. “What of it?” he said.

“I'm trying to help you,” I said. “Listen. Please.”

The cars arrived at the entrance of the
parking lot and began to turn in. Jason still hadn't seen them.

“You needed access to one school system computer,” I said. “You needed a back door.”

“You're nuts,” he said.

“No,” I said, “I was there last night when they trapped you.”

“Trapped me? Who?”

I hadn't understood any of the technical details. What I'd seen looked like a cat and mouse game on a computer screen. The computer programmer had explained it to me as he chased the hacker.

“You made sure Coach Lewis's computer was always available by modem,” I said. “You had his password and broke into McKinley's system. You put three hacked accounts between your home computer and Coach's computer. But last night, someone followed every move you made in the school's system, keystroke by keystroke.”

Hacked accounts. That was something else I had learned about from the programmer. They were other people's computer accounts,
which the hacker broke into. It was kind of like using someone else's car to rob a bank so the license plate would get traced back to the owner instead of the bank robber.

I'd watched the computer screen over the programmer's shoulder. The hacker never knew he'd been caught. Every keystroke he made showed up on our screen. He'd entered new names and addresses, and then he'd changed grades to help other students pass their classes. Most of those other students were Black Roses members. I'd watched as the programmer had followed the hacker out of the system and right to his home computer. Almost like putting a homing device inside the bag of money stolen by a bank robber. It wouldn't matter how many different cars he used as he drove away.

The hacker's trail led us to Jason's home computer. Jason, who didn't like me because of the cross I wore around my neck. Jason, who didn't like me because I was becoming friends with Jennifer. Jason, who had learned a lot about me from my school records. Jason, who had told his Black Roses friends about me. And what to do about me.

“Jason,” I said, “they know it's you. They picked this morning to serve a search warrant on your house because they knew you'd be here, waiting to get on the bus. Whatever evidence you have on your computer's hard drive, they now have.”

“Impossible,” he said. The look on his face told me otherwise.

“When the police get here,” I said, “help them as much as you can. They'll go easier on you. You're still young enough that this won't hurt you for the rest of your life.”

He saw me looking over his shoulder. He whirled his head and caught a glimpse of the cars pulling up—Coach Lewis and the police.

For a second, Jason tensed. Like he was thinking of running. Then his shoulders slumped.

Jason looked back at me.

“The guy who tracked you last night,” I said, “he used to be a hacker too. Until he decided to take what he knew about computers and use it to help keep systems secure.”

The cars were very close. Close enough that I could see the faces of Coach Lewis and
Jennifer in the first car. And a third person in the backseat.

“Jason,” I said, “from what they were saying about you, you're a computer genius. Just like my dad, you can turn things around.”

I didn't have a chance to say more. The cars stopped. Kids on the track team backed away and watched in silence as the officers from the second car came over to talk to Jason.

He gave me a long look.

“Remember,” I said, “I'll help if you want.”

“All right,” he finally said.

They ushered him away from the team to talk to him in private.

By then Coach Lewis and Jennifer had gotten out of their car.

“Wow,” Coach Lewis said, letting out a deep breath. “What a morning. I've been up for hours, talking with police and school officials.”

I looked at the back of his car, where the third person was still sitting.

“Carlos is here,” I said. “Does that mean the police kept their end of the deal?”

chapter twenty-seven

Coach Lewis smiled. “The police honored their deal. Carlos agreed to testify against the Black Roses. That, along with the computer evidence, should be enough to get the gang out of the school and into the court system. That's going to make life a lot easier on everyone. In return for his help, the FBI will get Carlos's family what's called political asylum. That means they can stay in the United States legally.”

“And if Jason decides to help the
FBI
too,” I said, “they'll have a real head start on finding out who is organizing this from neighborhood to neighborhood.”

I thought to myself that I wouldn't be surprised if Jason did help. It would be the only way for him to stay out of a lot of legal trouble. And just before the police put him into their car, I saw that he looked more scared than angry. Maybe he was thinking about the things I'd told him.

Coach's car door opened. Carlos got out. He was dressed in track sweats with our school colors. Carlos gave me a big thumbs-up. And an even bigger grin.

“Carlos is running for us today.” I guessed.

“Yup,” Coach Lewis said. “I called the other sprinters this morning to see if they could run in Jason's place. But neither of them could make it on such short notice. That means Carlos gets to be our fifth runner today.”

I thought about what Carlos had said about getting a scholarship and going to a
university. I thought about how fast he was. And how this chance to run might be his first step in his journey toward his dream.

I walked over to him.

“You feel good?” I said.

“You bet, man.”

He grinned again, jogging in place to warm up his legs. “Tell you what. This is like a door opening for me and my family. I feel sorry for whoever runs against me today.”

That meant he needed to feel sorry for me.

Everything came down to the final sprint. Carlos had qualified. So had I. And runners from four other schools.

We needed to finish first and third to give Coach Lewis his first victory in a long time.

The crowd was loud as we took our places. Big as the crowd was, I found Jennifer easily. She gave me a shy wave when she noticed me looking at her. Then she blew me a kiss. I didn't know where to look.

Carlos had taken his place at the blocks beside mine. He elbowed me.

“You make pretty eyes later,” he said. “Now you get ready to chase me.”

“Me chase you?” I said in mock astonishment.

He grinned. “You bet. I'm going to be ahead of you all the way to the finish line.”

I had a smart remark but no time to fire it at him. The starter called us to the starting blocks.

I crouched. For a second, time froze. The sun warmed my back. With my head up, the view etched into my mind. People in the stands. Some palm trees at the edge of the field. A blue cloudless sky.

And my legs ready to burn.

“Take your mark...”

The starter raised his pistol.

“Set...”

BANG
!

I was liquid mercury as the gun shot its blank.

Legs churning. Track hard against my feet.
A rush of air and motion and the blur of colored uniforms.

Two guys ahead. Then one. Into the lead. Closing in on the finish line.

I felt free. A hawk diving. A shark slicing through water. A cheetah in tall grass.

Almost at the line.

But just before I burst across, Carlos charged out of nowhere, past my right shoulder. And across the line.

For a second, I was crushed. But only for a second. Then I realized what had happened. We'd finished first and second!

Above the screaming of the crowd, I heard the announcer's voice on the loudspeaker.

“Folks! An unofficial record! That's the fastest high school time in Florida by at least a tenth of a second! The first and second places both broke the old record!”

Carlos pounded my back.

I pounded his.

The rest of the team swarmed us.

So how could I be upset?

Especially with Coach Lewis almost
crying from happiness at his first win in years.

Beside, there was always next week's race to catch Carlos. This time without a water pistol in my hand.

About the Author

Sigmund Brouwer is the best-selling author of many books for children and young adults. He has contributed to the
Orca Currents
series (
Wired
,
Sewer Rats
) and the
Orca Sports
series (
Blazer Drive
,
Titan Clash
,
Cobra Strike
). Sigmund enjoys visiting schools to talk about his books.

Interested teachers can find out more by e-mailing
[email protected].

For more titles in the Orca Sports series, please
click here
.

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