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Authors: Greg Pace

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BOOK: Project X-Calibur
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2

144:19:57

“SINCE ARTHUR WAS ABLE
to pull Excalibur from the stone, he was destined to wield the fabled sword and be king. After that he was invincible, especially with Merlin, the greatest wizard in history, at his side.”

I looked up from my paper.

“Thank you, Ben,” said my Reading Lit teacher, Mr. Ellington, turning to the rest of the class. “Any questions for Mr. Stone?”

I tensed. A Monday that began with me standing at the front of a classroom giving an oral book report was about as enjoyable as a trip to the dentist. Good thing I knew all the stories about King Arthur, Excalibur, and the knights of the Round Table inside out, since Dad used to tell them to me before bed.

Mr. Ellington was a very large guy who always wore bow ties and heinous sweater vests (even in summer), and I hated his assignments. But when he announced that we'd be giving a speech about one of the books on his reading list, I was thrilled to find out that
The Once and Future King
was about King Arthur. I didn't even know there
were
books about King Arthur and Excalibur. I thought Dad just made up those stories each night.

A hand went up. It was Chad “The Dorf” Dorfler, a splotchy-cheeked kid who wore bulky black eyeglass frames because he thought they looked “hip,” when they just made him look like a young Mr. Potato Head.

“How come only Arthur could pull out the sword? What was so special about him?” He gave me a little grin. He and I were friends, but he loved making me squirm.

“He . . . just had what it takes to be a hero,” I explained.

Hero.
That word was used to describe Dad a lot after he died.

“Cool,” The Dorf said, accepting my tepid answer. When nobody else raised a hand, Mr. Ellington nodded my dismissal. As I walked back to my desk, Kimberly Wexler smiled at me, then she and her BFF, Madison Bryant, giggled in that way that girls do sometimes. I've always been a little confused by that giggle. Were they laughing
at
me?

“Kim and Madison are totally into you,” The Dorf whispered with a pump of his eyebrows as I sat down. “Probably wanna have your babies.”

I rolled my eyes. Kimberly and Madison were two of the prettiest girls in school. Plus, I was reluctant to believe anything that came from a kid who
wanted
to be called The Dorf.

After Reading Lit, it was time for gym, a torture-fest run by Coach Denton. Denton was tall and lanky and thought he could make his muscles look bigger by sporting skintight stretchy shirts.

“Circle up!” He drew circles in the air and pointed
up
to the ceiling. “Big day today!”

We were about to be subjected to one of his legendary obstacle courses. There'd be lots of crawling (in gym shorts, on a hard-as-nails basketball court floor), jumping, and, worst of all, the most heinous activity ever invented—climbing a rope to the gym ceiling. I don't know what genius came up with the idea of making kids clamber up ropes as a form of exercise, but I'd like to find him and congratulate him for ruining my life.

Denton divided the class into three teams. “First team to get all of its members through the course gets a pizza lunch, my treat.”

I couldn't win this if my life depended on it. Except now my life kind of
did
depend on it, because throwing non-cafeteria pizza into the mix was like throwing a banana into a room full of starving monkeys.

“Worth playing for?!” Denton shouted, and everyone responded with a symphony of grunts and hoots.

Yours truly ended up on the same team as Todd (yes,
that
Todd) and all his muscle-bound cronies. The only girl on our team, Becky Winstead, had recently placed third in the entire state in gymnastics. I might as well have been wearing a shirt that said THE WEAKEST LINK.

As everyone walked toward the starting line, The Dorf nudged me. “Nice team ya got there. I sure wouldn't want to be you.”

“I don't wanna be me, either,” I agreed, tucking my tank top into my shorts. I looked out at the course. The gym suddenly seemed enormous. “But at least we'll win.”

The Dork smirked. “
They'll
win. You, however, should ride on Todd's back.”

“You're about as funny as a submarine with a screen door.”

“And
you're
about as funny as walking into an antique shop and asking ‘what's new?'” The Dorf patted me on the back.

My teammates grimaced when I moved over to their group.

“Don't screw this up,” Todd snarled. “We want pizza.” The other behemoths nodded menacingly.

Coach Denton brought the whistle up to his lips. “Hey,” I whispered to Todd. “I need that money you owe me, okay?”

Todd narrowed his eyes. “Just worry about winning for once, dorkus.”

Denton's whistle blared, and like eager little hamsters, we dove toward the first obstacle, a dozen low-rising balance beams. I hit the floor and scrambled forward. The beams barely came a foot off the ground, but I was small, and I could soon hear my competition falling behind me.

I burst out from under the beams and kicked my leg up just in time to avoid a hurdle. My toe caught on the second one and I stumbled, but managed to recover over the next few. I might not have been Olympic material, but I wasn't embarrassing myself, either. Todd and his lackeys grunted and snorted behind me, struggling to propel their massive bodies over their hurdles, and only Becky moved fast enough to gain ground for our team.

By now my team was easily in first place. Everything came down to that last obstacle.

The rope climb.

Each team had a designated rope with little flags tied at the top—one flag for each team member. In order to win, everyone had to climb the rope, retrieve a flag, and bring it back down.

Becky went first for our team and retrieved her flag in about half a second. Todd and his overgrown peeps managed to haul their hefty weight up with their tree-trunk arms, and soon only one flag remained.

It was my turn. I looked over at the team with Chucky, Suzie, and J.J. on it. They had just gotten to their rope, which meant I had plenty of time to climb up there and win it all.

I looked up. The top of the rope seemed to be a million miles away. I took a deep breath and remembered what Dad once said about running into a burning building.

When lives are on the line, it's all about doing, not thinking.

“GO!” Todd growled in my ear.

I began to climb. Within a few seconds, the muscles in my arms were on fire, and my sweating palms kept losing their grip. I slipped and slid down a few feet.

Todd and my teammates groaned in disgust, but I grabbed the rope again. I wasn't giving up yet. Our competition already had two of their flags and were catching up, fast. I gritted my teeth and pulled. Halfway to the flag, my muscles screamed again and my palms were on fire.
Is this stupid rope made of barbed wire?
I couldn't go farther, so I clung desperately to the rope and tried to find some strength. I dared a glance down and saw a mash of sneering faces.

My incompetence had allowed The Dorf's team to catch up. And on the other team, only Suzie Walters needed to retrieve her flag. It was down to me against her.

She looked up at me, grabbed her rope and smirked.

It's on,
she mouthed. I
had
to get moving.

Grunting and snorting and making noises I didn't even know I could make, I climbed, hand over hand. Suzie was making good time, and in just seconds, we were neck and neck. Her teammates cheered wildly, and, surprisingly, my teammates were cheering
me
on too. I felt a rush of energy.

I weighed a thousand pounds, but the flag was in my sights. It didn't look so far away anymore.

I heard a groan from Suzie. She was struggling!
I might actually win this thing!

With a final surge, I reached for the flag, fingers shaking from fatigue and adrenaline. But just as I was about to grab it, I made the mistake of looking down again.

I blinked. I couldn't believe it.

The lost kid from the diner was standing behind my team, looking up at me. He wasn't wearing a fishing hat anymore, but it was definitely him. His sandy brown hair was short and choppy, like he'd cut it with a weed whacker. His brows rose in surprise when our eyes met. And then . . .

He vanished into thin air—poof. Adios.

What the—

I was so jolted by the vanishing act that I let go of the rope. I tumbled through the air and braced myself for the unforgiving smack of the gym mats below.
Would I survive a fall from this height?

I saw Suzie, high above me, grabbing her flag. It was over. And then, suddenly I wasn't falling anymore.

“Nice effort, Stone!” Coach Denton barked. I was
in his arms.
He'd caught me. Then, without warning, he unceremoniously dumped me on the floor, and I smacked the mat like a sack of flour. I didn't know what was more embarrassing: the fact that he'd cradled me like a baby or the fact that Suzie's team was now hugging her while gleefully chanting “Peetz-a! Peetz-a! Peetz-a!”

“Hit the lockers, everyone!” Denton shouted.

I sighed in defeat, still on the ground as Todd and my teammates stared down at me.

“You're dead, Stone,” Todd snarled. “Dead
meat.

3

142:12:39

“IF YOU WANT YOUR CLOTHES,
come and get 'em!” Todd's bellows echoed through the locker room. Next to him, his goons snickered.

I had jammed myself into a locker but could see Todd had my jeans and T-shirt over a toilet. He could have found me in less than two minutes if he wanted—he just enjoyed the game too much to end it.

“Your loss! Have fun wearing your gym clothes all day!” My stuff dropped with a splash, and Todd flushed while the guys gave him fist bumps.

“And I'm
really
not paying you for that oil change now!”

That made my blood boil. I could live with him humiliating me for losing, but Mom and I needed every dime we could get, and I had
earned
that money.

With my heart pounding, I grabbed the locker door.

“What's going on in here?”

Coach Denton entered the room, and I stayed put. Todd sidestepped in front of the toilet to keep Denton from seeing my wet clothes.

“Nothin', Coach,” he replied, sweet as can be.

The two-minute warning bell for the next class sounded.

“Then I suggest you get moving,” Denton warned. “We need you, Byers. You won't do anybody much good if you're sitting on a bench in next week's game 'cause of too many tardies.”

“Right, Coach. Sorry.” Todd and his buddies hightailed it outta there.

Denton paused in the doorway and squinted. “Is somebody in here?”

I held my breath, but after a few moments he shrugged and left. I exhaled just as the final warning bell sounded. I only had thirty seconds to get there without being late, so I grabbed the locker door handle and . . . it was stuck.

I yanked harder, but it wouldn't budge.
What if I'm trapped?
I imagined the headline: SON OF HEROIC FIREFIGHTER FOUND DEAD OF STARVATION IN GYM LOCKER, CLOTHES STUFFED INTO TOILET.

“No!” I slammed myself against the locker door until it finally popped open, sending me tumbling to the floor in a twisted heap.

“Ouch.” I rubbed a new bump on my head.

“Need a hand?” someone said behind me.

I whirled around. That freaky kid was here!

I scrambled backward and jumped to my feet.

“Man, what is your
problem
?” I snapped, my chest heaving.

“Sorry about what happened earlier. I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted a front row seat for your victory.”


Victory?
We lost because of me,” I shot back, taking an angry step closer. Then I raised an accusatory finger. “Because of
you
and your . . .”

Vanishing act,
I wanted to say, but it sounded too crazy, so I lowered my finger and stayed put.

“I do apologize. I had such high hopes for our first meeting, but after yesterday and now today, well . . .” The kid sighed and shrugged.
“C'est la vie.”

I said nothing, so he added, “That's French. Beautiful language.”

I sat down on a bench, dumbfounded. “You're seriously nuts. Who are you?”

“I'd rather not say yet. I don't mean to be cryptic, but—”

“Why are you following me? Are you lost? Did you just move here?” I got up again as my voice started rising. “You're in the wrong school!” I cried, throwing up my hands.

“You have questions,” he said deliberately. “Entirely understandable.”

“Stop talking like that!”

He tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “Like what?”

“Like a grown-up! You sound like you're in a school play or something! And how did you, uh . . .”

I knew I'd have to say it sooner or later.

“—disappear?” I whispered.

“The actual mechanics of it are complicated.”

Enough.
I turned for the door.

“Something is coming, Benjamin.” The kid's voice cut the room like a knife. “Something dangerous.”

I stopped. I'm still not sure why.

“It'll be here in just under six days,” he added grimly. “A hundred and forty-two hours, to be exact.”

“Coming where?” I sighed. “What are you
talking
about?”

“To Earth. It could mean the end of mankind. The end of . . . everything.” What little color he had in his face drained away.

I sighed. “Again with the mankind stuff. You should try playing with kids your own age—”

The kid held his hand up. “I'm part of a group. An initiative, if you will, to protect the planet. It's no mistake: We have proof, Benjamin.”

I wasn't frightened anymore. Just annoyed.

“First of all, my name is
Ben.
Only my grandmother calls me Benjamin and she's like a hundred years old. Second of all, who's ‘we'? What is this ‘group'?”

“I'd rather not say until you've agreed to accept.” The weirdo was stubborn, that's for sure.

“Accept what?”

“What I
hope
is your destiny,” he replied, eyes brightening again.

He was serious.
The end of mankind? Destiny?

“Nice try, Junior,” I stepped forward and reached for him. “C'mon, I'm taking you to the principal's office.”

The second I made contact with his hand, he grabbed me and held on. Then something amazing and terrifying happened. I instantly felt my body breaking down, disassembling into a billion pieces in the blink of an eye. I felt no pain, only warmth. For that split second, I couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. In a purely physical sense, I, Benjamin Thomas Stone, didn't exist.

And then I was back, and it felt like I was being dunked in a tub of ice cubes. My lungs burned with icy air. Most of my body had been reassembled, and my skin, still wearing gym clothes, covered me in an instant.

I gasped, dizzy, as I felt the ground under my feet again. The kid clasped my hand tightly as I wobbled. For a lightning-fast moment I saw the final pieces of him being put back together as well.

I shivered and looked around.
We were outside.

It was night, and so dusty that I couldn't see more than four feet in front of me. It was like a snowstorm of gray, and I was shivering in my gym shorts and tank top.

I screamed and pulled away from the kid. “Where is this?
How
is this?”

He held up a hand. “Relax.”

“Relax?! I'm going crazy and you want me to relax?”

“You're not crazy,” he assured me.

“What did you do?” I demanded. “Make us . . . teleport or something?” I couldn't believe I was using the word “teleport” in a sentence. But the kid nodded. In fact, he smiled, like he was impressed I'd thought of it.

“How did you do this? Magic?”

He shook his head. “There's no such thing as magic.”

The psychotic eight-year-old was now the voice of reason.

He showed me his other hand. There was a little round device, not much larger than a quarter, in his palm.


That
little thing?” I spat, squinting for a better look.

“Size isn't everything,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Where are we?”

He held out a hand. “See for yourself.”

I was scared, but who was I kidding? I had to look.

I walked forward slowly, the air still too murky to see much of anything. The strange dust stuck to my clothes and hair and eyelashes.

“This way.” The kid passed me and pointed to the right.

A pale glow peeked through the haze, and the dust thinned as we moved in that direction.

We emerged and I blinked a few times. What I saw before me was a real-life nightmare.

Devastation.

We were in the middle of a destroyed city. Pieces of some buildings still stood, their jagged edges sticking up from the ground like skeletal fingers.

The light.

I looked up and saw the source of that pale yellow glow. It was an oval moon, with points at the top and bottom.
Another
one, identical to the first, peeked out from behind it.

With every nerve in my body on overload, I looked down and realized that the crunchiness under my feet was shattered debris from the destruction.

But something else, too.

Bones.
Lots
of bones. And they definitely weren't human.

There was a skull with three eye sockets and a strange, elongated jaw. The wind blew ash from its bared teeth.

I looked to the kid, aghast. I couldn't believe what I was about to say.

“You teleported us to another planet.”

He nodded, those strange eyes of his staring intently into mine. “Indeed.”

BOOK: Project X-Calibur
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