The Impossible Race: Cragbridge Hall, Volume 3 (29 page)

“How can you dance right now?” Derick asked. “This is serious stuff.”

“Like this,” Carol said, and wiggled some more.

Derick shook his head. “The final event is scheduled for seven o’ clock. Knowing when it ends is trickier. They can go for a few hours, but I think most of them last just an hour. Maybe start at eight o’clock and either move forward or back in time from there.”

“Where should I search?” Abby asked. “I need to plug in a place.”

“If we’re afraid of Muns gaining control of time,” Rafa said, “maybe start right here at the Bridge.” He nodded toward the large invention. “And then move to the security wall or the auditorium if you don’t see anything.” All of the student body would watch the final event from the auditorium.

“Sounds good,” Abby said.

“I’ll set my rings and count down from ten seconds so we don’t break this thing,” Carol volunteered. “That would be super-nasty-awful-wretched-no-good terribleness. I’ll set it to count down out loud.”

Abby made sure that everyone was okay with the plan, then took a deep breath. With Rafa’s help, she turned the keys. She put in her sphere. Abby set her heartstone near the console and it vibrated. A small door opened above a keyhole. She slipped the heartstone inside. Rather than wasting any time scrolling, Abby changed the time code for tomorrow night. The Bridge rumbled the moment it accepted the date.

“Ten,” Carol’s rings called out, in the voice of an overly dramatic actor.

A faded ghost of tomorrow night filled the other side of the room, a shadow of what would be. The Bridge showed a realistic image of itself. It almost appeared to be like looking in a giant mirror, except for the people. Abby saw herself. Her future self.

“Nine.”

In the future, Abby wasn’t standing confidently at the Bridge’s console like she was now. She was weeping on the floor, Carol beside her.

“Eight.”

For a moment, Abby was stunned, taking in the scene. Something in the future would go terribly wrong.

“Seven.”

There was no more time to think about it. Abby scrolled back in time. It was like rewinding through a movie. Abby in the future got up from her knees and was gazing ahead, her mouth moving and her arm gesturing at the same time.

“Six.”

“You’re yelling something,” Rafa said.

“Five.”

Abby stopped scrolling to hear what she would say in the future. “Derick, you can’t possibly run that fast,” her future self screamed.

“Four.”

“Derick, don’t!
Don’t!
” Future Abby cried out.

“Three.”

Where was Derick? Abby made a quick decision between the auditorium and the security walls. If her future self wasn’t in the auditorium, why would Derick be there? Remembering that seeing the aftermath was often useful, Abby scrolled ahead in time slightly as she moved the perspective outside the building.

“Two.”

As Abby moved out through the grounds, she caught a glimpse of Derick sprinting.

“One.”

All they saw was a burst of light. All they heard was Derick’s scream before Carol pulled the keys.

Derick’s voice from the future echoed off the walls.

Everyone stood in silence for several seconds, their eyes acclimating back to the darkness of the basement.

“I hate that light,” Derick said.

“What causes it?” Carol asked.

“I have no idea,” Derick said. “But I guess we haven’t stopped Muns’s plan.”

“We’ve got to try to see the future again,” Abby said, turning back toward the console and the keys. “See how we can stop it.”

“We can’t,” Rafa said. “Unless you want to do Muns a great favor and destroy the Bridge.”

Abby froze. Nothing they had done had changed the future. Even though Mr. Silverton and Mr. Sul were caught. Even though Chief Shar was arrested—it still turned out the same. Derick was going to die. Maybe they all would. Maybe this was the moment that would lead to Muns taking over and striking anyone who stood in his way with the Ash.

All their efforts meant nothing.

Nothing.

Abby wished her grandfather was awake, that he could tell her what to do. But even if he was, what could he say?

“This is crazy,” Carol said. “But like Rafa suggested a long time ago, maybe we should use the Bridge to attack Muns. You could tranquilize him again.”

“We can’t until tomorrow night,” Derick said. “The Bridge has to rest, and it wouldn’t be ready until about the same time as the Race ends.”

Abby twisted her hair into another temporary ponytail. “And even if we did, someone else is working for him inside Cragbridge Hall. Their plan would still happen.”

“What if we go back in time and change something?” Rafa asked. “We could do something to Muns.”

“We shouldn’t,” Abby said. “It’s too dangerous. That’s what we’ve been trying to keep Muns from doing. We might give the Ash to someone else. Maybe a lot of someones.”

“Plus,” Derick repeated, “we can’t use the Bridge until the end of the event, unless we want to risk destroying it.”

It was hopeless.

No. That wasn’t right. At least not according to Grandpa.

“Wait,” Abby said. “Just because we see something in the future doesn’t mean that it
will
happen. We can make different choices. We can do better than we would have.” Her eyes welled up with tears. “This isn’t going to happen. We’re going to figure something out.”

• • •

Derick lay in his bed. This could be his last night alive.

He had so many questions about what Muns had planned, about what the next day would hold. But he knew Muns had someone working for him inside Cragbridge Hall. He knew Muns had an army. And he knew there were only a handful of people who knew the secret, people he knew he could trust: his sister, Carol, Rafa, and Rafa’s mother. Sure, there was a chance his parents, his grandpa, and a few more teachers might wake up, but even then, how could they possibly stand up to Muns?

His thoughts churned over and over in his mind. They would have to do something different. He would have to do something better than he would have before.

Derick had an idea. There, in the dark, lying in his bed, he had an idea. It was a bit bold, unexpected. Maybe it was enough to change the future. He synced up with Abby, Carol, Rafa, and Rafa’s mother to see if they agreed. They discussed it for nearly an hour before consenting.

Derick synced up with all of the Spartans, several of them very nearly asleep. In fact, he may have woken a few of them up. He took a deep breath. “I know it’s late, but we’ve been thinking. Tomorrow is the day of the last challenge, and we hopefully have a chance to win it.”

“And that’s when we’ll get to learn the secret,” Piper said and yawned.

Derick nodded.

“If we win, we think we’d rather have you hear the secret from us that from whomever else has offered it,” Abby said.

“And if we don’t win, there’s a good chance we may need your help,” Derick added.

Derick started at the beginning. He didn’t tell it all, but he told about the Bridge and how it could really go into the past and how Muns desperately wanted that power. He mentioned that some people have keys and Muns would stop at nothing to get them. He told of all the ways Muns had threatened lives to try to gain the keys. He steered clear of the spheres that allowed those who had them to look anywhere into the present, and the heartstone Abby had that allowed her to see the future. When he finally stopped, he waited for their reaction.

“Whoa, that is crazy,” Malcolm said.

“Yes, it is,” Derick admitted.

“I told you this secret may be a burden,” Rafa said.

“I still don’t know what to say,” Nia mumbled. “That was all real, right? You didn’t just give us your creative writing term paper, did you?”

“Nope. It’s true,” Abby said.

“Are you sure?” Malcolm asked. “’Cause that would be mean to wake us up for y’all to tell us some crazy lie. Plus, my mama doesn’t approve of lies.”

“It’s all true,” Derick promised.

“It totally, totally,
totally
is,” Carol said. “And it’s a really hard secret to keep.”

“It brings a whole new level of importance to our last event,” Anjum said. “Though I admit I will need time to think through what this means, I know I don’t want just anyone knowing this information. It’s potentially very dangerous.”

“If things don’t go as planned,” Abby said, “and Muns has something more up his sleeve, we would really appreciate some help. You are some of the most talented students at this school. It’s because of kids like you that my grandpa founded this school, that he took the chance on his inventions. He thought what he could help kids learn would outweigh the dangers. Perhaps we can prove him right.”

March 29

Abby woke up again.

She couldn’t sleep. Too much to haunt her. She checked the time: 5:30 am. She might as well get up.

March 29.

Today was the day of the final challenge. And the day the saturn said Derick would die.

While Carol snored in the background, Abby took a quick shower and then put in her contacts and put on her rings. A message was waiting—a message from Derick.

She clicked on it, and saw her brother sitting on his bed.

“Hey, Sis,” he said. “I can’t sleep.” She heard some light snoring in the background. He had to deal with the same kind of roommate as she did. He must have filmed this sometime late last night after they spoke with the Spartans. “I’m glad we told them all about the keys and the Bridge. I think it was a good move.” He paused, opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again.

“I’ve had a lot of thoughts lately . . . and . . . well, maybe I won’t even send this to you. Or maybe I will. I don’t know.” He wiped his hand over his face. His eyes were red and tired. “I guess tomorrow is the day that I might . . . die.” He clenched his jaw for a moment. The moment lingered. “That is a really weird feeling. I mean, I don’t want to . . .” His voice broke. He passed his hand over his face again, then shook his head. “Just in case it actually happens, I think I should let you know a few things.”

Abby sniffled.

“When you think you might die, you see the whole world differently,” he said. “I mean . . . some things that you thought were super important . . . just aren’t. Like making a samurai game. Or impressing everyone.” He took a deep breath. “And some things just seem more and more important.”

Abby rubbed her eyes.

“You know,” Derick continued, “it hasn’t been my favorite thing to be a twin. I mean, if sometime someone had let me pick, I don’t think I would have picked it.”

Tears. She knew what he meant, but inside it hurt. Abby couldn’t get into the school on her own. She didn’t get asked to the dance. She wasn’t really invited to be on a team for the Race. And now her own brother admitted that he wouldn’t have chosen to be her twin.

“And it used to bug me,” Derick said. “I mean, we usually get along okay.” A smile cracked his face. “Most of the time,” he corrected.

Abby let out a half-laugh, half-cry.

“Some people have even asked why I got better grades than you, and did better at . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence. “And I, I used to wish you were different. That you were more . . . like me.”

Abby knew that Derick had been better at most everything their whole lives, but she hadn’t known that others asked about it.

Derick closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, tears rolled out from under both eyelids. “I don’t think that anymore.” He wiped his cheeks. “I don’t think that kids our age always see how amazing people really are. They look at all sorts of stuff on the outside—the stuff everyone can easily see. And they think that’s important. A lot of the time it isn’t. And I thought that way too. I even thought that way about you. But you won me over, Abs.” He swallowed. “I mean, you don’t stop trying and every time anyone really gives you a chance, you win them over. You don’t give up. You never give up.”

He blinked and used the back of his hand to wipe the corner of his eye. “Grandpa saw it in you long before I did. And you have saved everything a few times now. And hopefully you’ll save the day again and this whole message will be worthless.” He sniffled. “If that’s the case, let’s just agree to erase this thing.” He laughed louder than normal. “We’ll pretend it never happened.”

“But if somehow tomorrow is my last day, please tell Mom and Dad . . .” He looked away. He looked back and tried to talk, but then turned away again. “Tell them I love them.” His chin quivered. “I didn’t tell them that very often. But I do. Tell Grandpa that I tried and that I love him too. And I’m grateful he . . . that he trusted me. I really did try.”

Abby was a complete mess. She used the towel she had hanging on her bedrail to soak up the tears.

“But you need to know that you are amazing. Sometimes the more you get to know someone, the more they disappoint you. Well, since we were wombmates, I think we know each other pretty well. And Abby, I think you just keep getting better.”

He wiped his nose. “Sorry if some people don’t always get it. They’ll figure it out. You just keep being amazing.” He didn’t even try to stop the tears.