X-plosion

  Death Leap!

  Before I could get to the Leap, the cars began moving. Cody and Joe were in the second car sent around the coaster. There was an empty car halfway around the track already. I tried yelling up to the operator, but the little booth was perched too far up for them to hear me. Frank and Cody began to gain speed, flying through the first loop of the track. I could hear Cody screaming with joy. I had maybe fifteen seconds to save them. Maybe.

  My eyes darted around the roller coaster, looking for some way to stop it. By the time I climbed up to the operator’s booth, it would be too late. How could I stop a thousand pounds of speeding metal?

  THE HARDY BOYS

  Undercover Brothers®

  #1 Extreme Danger

  #2 Running on Fumes

  #3 Boardwalk Bust

  #4 Thrill Ride

  #5 Rocky Road

  #6 Burned

  #7 Operation: Survival

  #8 Top Ten Ways to Die

  #9 Martial Law

  #10 Blown Away

  #11 Hurricane Joe

  #12 Trouble in Paradise

  #13 The Mummy’s Curse

  #14 Hazed

  #15 Death and Diamonds

  #16 BAYPORT BUCCANEERS

  #17 Murder at the Mall

  #18 Pushed

  #19 Foul Play

  #20 Feeding Frenzy

  #21 Comic Con Artist

  Super Mystery #1: Wanted

  Super Mystery #2: Kidnapped

  at the Casino

  #22 Deprivation House

  #23 House Arrest

  Haunted: Special Ghost Stories Edition

  #24 Murder House

  #25 Double Trouble

  #26 Double Down

  #27 Double Deception

  #28 Galaxy X

  #29 X-plosion

  Available from Simon & Schuster

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ALADDIN

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  Text copyright © 2009 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  THE HARDY BOYS MYSTERY STORIES is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  HARDY BOYS UNDERCOVER BROTHERS and related logo are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1–866-248–3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.

  Library of Congress Control Number 2009925977

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4169-9582-1

  ISBN-10: 1-4169-9582-X

  Visit us on the Web:

  http://www.SimonandSchuster.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  1. In with a Bang

  2. The Other Mount McKenzie Explodes

  3. Living on the Edge

  4. Shredded

  5. Punk’d!

  6. May the Best Man Lose

  7. A Wolff in Sheep’s Clothing

  8. The Ride of Their Lives

  9. Leap of Faith

  10. Stage Fright

  11. Short Circuit

  12. Fired

  13. Gorillas in Their Midst

  14. Over the River and Through the Woods

  15. Can You Hear Me Now?

  16. Video Games Killed the Skateboard Star

  17. Game Over

  18. An Explosive Performance

  FRANK

  1

  In with a Bang

  The crowd was still cheering, and the echo of the explosion of Mount McKenzie was fresh in my ears. If things keep exploding at Galaxy X, I thought, I’m asking ATAC to issue me some earplugs.

  In fact, I had a lot to talk to ATAC about right then. We’d thought our case was over—we’d figured out who had been harassing the wealthy music producer Tyrone McKenzie and arrested them before they could ruin the opening day of his new extreme sport amusement park, Galaxy X. Tyrone loved us—well, okay, he loved me and he liked Joe. The park was awesome, with hundreds of rides, roller coasters, and games taking over the entire island. The place was crawling with celebrities, actors, and musicians. It was definitely the best mission we’d had yet.

  Except for one small problem. Mount McKenzie wasn’t supposed to blow up on opening day. Our only suspect, a local security guard named Wallace, was behind bars, and he couldn’t have done it. And we knew it wasn’t an accident, because Tyrone had received a text message on his PDA from Sk8rH8r, the nickname of the person behind the attacks on the park, right as the mountain blew up. It said I WARNED YOU! Whoever it was had threatened to ruin opening day and destroy the park. Who knew what else they had in mind besides destroying Mount McKenzie? The huge crowd of park-goers, celebrities, and press who’d lined up to get inside the gates first were now all in terrible danger. And we didn’t have a clue where it was coming from. Thankfully, most of the crowd seemed to believe that the explosion was another one of Tyrone’s publicity stunts.

  Mount McKenzie wasn’t the only thing that seemed to be exploding either. Tyrone himself was red-faced with rage. The guy’s temper was legendary. Right now he looked about ready to punch somebody’s lights out. But Tyrone was nothing if not a professional entertainer, and even though he wanted to kill somebody, he got up to go to the microphone and welcome everyone to the opening of Galaxy X.

  I wanted to go over to Mount McKenzie and look for any evidence that might have survived the explosion, but Joe and I had been invited to sit on the welcome platform with the McKenzie family while Tyrone made his speech. Lined up next to me were Erica and Nick, Tyrone’s children from his other marriages, and Delfina, Tyrone’s second (or was it third?) wife, clutching the newest member of the family—Tyrone Jr. Nick was a bit of a spoiled brat, Delfina was nice but clueless, and Erica…well, Erica sometimes made it hard for me think around her. But in a good way. Sometimes cute girls have that effect on me. She was also really smart, and on the whole, just a great person.

  At the other end of the platform I could see Joe fidgeting in his seat. He was just as desperate to get up on Mount McKenzie as I was. But Tyrone was speaking now, and with everyone’s attention focused right on where we were sitting, there was no way we could slip away undetected. I sat on my hands and listened to Tyrone instead.

  “Many people have asked me how I came up with the idea for Galaxy X,” his voice boomed out over the loudspeaker. “And all I can tell them is that from the moment I first set eyes on this island, I knew it would one day be home to the biggest, most exciting, most advanced theme park in the world! A place where young men—and ladies—could experience true adventure.”

  The crowd went wild when he said that—hooting, screaming, stomping their feet. Tyrone had them in the palm of his hand. I had to hand it to him. He was a master at public displays.

  “And,” he continued, “we have one more surprise for all of you diehard fans who joined us here on opening weekend. Starting in just a few days, Cody Zane, the number-one ranked skateboarder in the world, will kick off the Cody Zane Skate or Die Competition sponsored by PowerUp energy drink. The prize for winning the competition? One lucky skater will be made into a character in the all-new Cody Zane: Skate or Die video game, which is being released next year from the
fabulous folks at Sold Out Entertainment!”

  If the crowd had been loud before, they were crazy now. But somewhere among all the cheering, I thought I heard a different kind of scream—one of pain and fear. And it was coming from Mount McKenzie. Someone might have been up there!

  Before I could do anything, Tyrone gave the signal, and the gates to the park slowly parted. People were running everywhere. The speakers began blasting music and nearly drowned out the noise of the crowd with Mr. Nice Guyz’ biggest hit, “(No More) Mr. Nice Guyz.” No one else seemed to have noticed anything. Maybe I’d hallucinated the scream.

  Then I saw it. There was an arm sticking out of the rubble on top of Mount McKenzie! Someone had been up there during the explosion. Whoever it was would need serious medical attention.

  Now no one was paying attention to us anymore. The crowd was rushing the park, Tyrone was screaming into his cell phone (as usual), and the rest of the family had wandered off. I raced over to where Joe was.

  “There’s someone up there!” I screamed to be heard over the noise of the crowd, pointing to Mount McKenzie.

  “What?”

  I tried again, but it was no use over the noise. Finally I just spun Joe around and pointed to the arm poking through the rocks. Joe raced to the edge of the platform and jumped down, right into the sea of running, shoving, screaming people. It was like trying to swim against the tide—a tide made up of flying elbows and kicking feet. Everyone wanted to be the first one on the rides. Joe and I managed to make it halfway to Mount McKenzie, but then someone kicked me in the back of the knee. Before I knew what had happened, I was on the ground.

  Around me, dozens of pairs of legs were trampling up and down. I tried to get up, but there was no room. I got stepped on again and again. And no one even seemed to notice I was under them! In a few seconds I was going to be crushed to death by an army of distracted teenagers!

  Suddenly an arm shot down out of the crowd and pulled me up.

  “You okay?” Joe yelled.

  I nodded, too out of breath to answer him. Even without trying to, we were moving closer to our destination, pushed along by the wild, surging tide of people. All we had to do was keep our balance and we’d get there eventually. After a few more minutes of pushing, we were able to grab hold of the sides of the remains of Mount McKenzie and start climbing.

  The mountain was still incredibly hot. The explosion had blown away the layer of dirt and grass that Tyrone’s gardeners had built on the outside of the mountain, exposing the metal framework at its interior. We could use that as scaffolding to climb up, like a giant jungle gym. A spiky, hot jungle gym.

  “Ow!” Joe screamed, and pulled his hand back from the piece of metal he’d been about to use as a handhold. “Watch out,” he said. “It’s still hot from the explosion.”

  There were jagged pieces of metal everywhere—some hot, some sharp. It was like an obstacle course, only deadly. Twice I nearly impaled myself on pieces of metal I didn’t see until the last moment. We had to climb at an angle, slowly making our away around the mountain even as we went upward, like a giant spiral. Finally, however, we reached the top—or at least what remained of it.

  From here you could see the entire park. The crowd seemed like an army of ants, spreading out from the gates at the entrance and slowly overwhelming every ride and attraction that was open. I could hear a weak groaning noise coming from somewhere underneath the rubble. Then I spotted the arm I had seen before—covered in dirt and nearly invisible now that it was no longer moving. I hoped we weren’t too late.

  “Over here,” I called to Joe. Together we moved some of the larger pieces of debris and dug our way down.

  “Be careful!” came the muffled shout from the person below. Apparently, we were in time.

  “This jacket cost four thousand dollars! If you tear it, I swear I’ll sue you.”

  Something about that voice—and that attitude—sounded familiar. Joe and I lifted up a few more pieces of rock to reveal Bret Johnston, the lead singer of Mr. Nice Guyz. What was he doing on top of Mount McKenzie? Could he have been behind the explosion, and somehow gotten caught in his own blast? Or was he just an innocent (if irritating) bystander?

  Bret certainly didn’t seem happy to see Joe and me.

  “I said, be careful you…monkeys!”

  “Do you want us to leave you under there?” Joe asked. When Bret didn’t answer, Joe threw his hands in the air and pretended to walk away.

  “Hey! Where are you going? Wait! Stop! Help me!” Bret started screaming again. With a shrug, Joe returned, and we dug him the rest of the way out. Aside from a few scratches and bruises, he didn’t seem to be hurt—pretty suspicious for someone just caught in a huge explosion. Maybe he’d buried himself on purpose….

  “What were you doing up here?” I asked.

  Bret was brushing dirt off his clothes and seemed shocked to find we were still there, bothering him.

  “I don’t see what business it is of yours. But if you must know, I was planning on skiing down the mountain when my song came on—as a special reward for all my fans who had come to see me. The next thing I knew, the ground was flying out from underneath me.”

  Bret seemed to think today was all about him, and that Mount McKenzie exploding was a personal attack. I got the feeling he thought that way about everything. Still, it was pretty strange that he was up here alone when the mountain exploded. We needed to get him to a hospital and make sure he was okay. But after that, I wanted to look into his story a little more.

  * * *

  Suspect Profile

  Name: Bret Johnston

  Hometown: Corpus Christi, Texas

  Physical description: Brown hair, blue eyes 6’1”, 180 lbs, age 17. According to his fan sites, “drop dead-gorgeous.” Maybe it should be “drop-DEADLY gorgeous.”

  Occupation: Lead singer of Mr. Nice Guyz

  Background: Originally from southern Florida, but he now considers himself a “citizen of the world.”

  Suspected of: Blowing up Mount McKenzie, and possibly sabotaging the other opening day celebrations at Galaxy-X.

  Possible motive: He can’t stand to have the spotlight taken off of him for one moment. What better way to get attention then by faking an injury?

  Suspicious behavior: Why was he on Mount McKenzie when it exploded? He was supposed to be down at the opening celebration. And he certainly seems self-centered enough to blow up Mount McKenzie if there was any way he-could benefit from it.

  * * *

  JOE

  2

  The Other Mount McKenzie Explodes

  “How dare they!” Tyrone screamed at the top of his lungs. When he really let go, he didn’t need a microphone to be heard. I’d seen him in some bad moods over the course of our case, but nothing like this before. He was stomping up and down his office, slamming doors, and throwing things. He was like a two-year-old. A giant two-year-old. He’d been like this ever since Frank and I had gotten back from taking Bret Johnston to the hospital. Bret had said he was fine, and I would have been more than happy to leave him on top of Mount McKenzie, but Frank insisted we take him to get checked out. At least this way, we knew where he was if we needed to question him.

  “Mount McKenzie was the centerpiece of my park! Someone is going to pay for this. I’ll wring their necks!” Even if he was going overboard about it, I understood why Tyrone was so angry. Someone had got him good when they blew up Mount McKenzie—and we had no idea who it could be. Yet. If we could just get out of Tyrone’s office and start investigating the explosion, however, I had no doubt we could clear this up pretty quickly. Hopefully, with enough time to get to explore the park, too. And maybe take part in the Cody Zane Skate or Die Competition…

  Frank must have had the same idea, because he tried to interrupt Tyrone’s yelling to say something. Tyrone turned on him.

  “And you! I don’t want to hear it. What good are you, anyway? Fancy ATAC and all your supposed detective brilliance—and
you couldn’t even stop someone from blowing up a mountain! It’s huge! How could you screw this up?”

  “Well,” Frank said, “we had a suspect in custody, Tyrone. And he’d admitted to causing the other destruction-”

  “Bah! I don’t want to hear it. Clearly you didn’t catch the right person, or else the mountain wouldn’t have BLOWN UP! Or are you trying to tell me that was an accident?” Tyrone seemed to be enjoying himself now, like he had an audience. From what I could tell, he seemed to like yelling at people. Nick was smirking in the background, taking great pleasure in our fall from Tyrone’s good graces.

  “And your ‘suspect in custody,’ Wallace? He doesn’t even know what text messages are. He’s clearly not ‘Skater Hater,’ or whatever this freak is calling himself.”

  It looked like Tyrone was about to explode. His face was bright red, and there was one big vein on his forehead that throbbed with every word he said. Or screamed, as it were. Nick was standing behind him, trying to cover up his laughter. He seemed to be pleased to watch Tyrone yelling at someone else for a change. I had to admit, it was kind of funny to watch Frank fall from being Tyrone’s golden boy. Me, I was just standing out of the way and trying not to get any of Tyrone’s spit on me. He was so angry, he was nearly foaming at the mouth.

  “But Tyrone, he—,” Frank tried again. Big mistake.

  “Don’t you call me Tyrone! It’s Mr. McKenzie to you!”

  “Give it a rest, Tyrone.” Erica’s voice came from behind Tyrone’s desk, where she’d made herself comfortable. She was sitting on his chair, feet up on the desk. It was pretty obvious that Erica didn’t get along with Tyrone. She was his stepdaughter, and they seemed to fight a lot. “It’s not Frank’s fault that people don’t like you.”