Operation: Survival Page 7

A fire truck slowly cruised down the narrow dirt road that ran alongside the lake. An ambulance followed it.

  I had a million more questions for Joe, but they’d have to wait. I was loaded onto a stretcher.

  The last thing I saw as the paramedics carried me off was Saunders moving in on Joe. It looked like he had a million questions for my brother too.

  I don’t know how long it was before Joe made it into the infirmary to see me. The painkillers made time kind of … unimportant.

  Joe sat down in the chair next to my bed. “I guess you haven’t remembered who snuck up behind you and hit you on the head.”

  “The ‘snuck up behind me’ part made it kinda hard,” I answered. “Because the sneaking. Is in back. Otherwise it’s not snucking. Sneaking.”

  Joe nodded. “You okay?”

  He looked so serious. Serious Joe. Serious, serious Joey. I hardly knew the guy.

  “Yeah,” I told him. “Thanks to you,” I added, giving my head a shake. I reached for his hand. Because … it was good. He saved me.

  Joe slid his chair back a foot. “Don’t get all mushy,” he ordered. “I had Janet crying on me today already.”

  “So what’s her deal?” I asked. It seemed like something Frank should ask. Would usually ask. And Frank was me. So I asked.

  “Her deal is that she thinks her boyfriend was killed and she’s playing Nancy Drew. Trying to figure it all out on her own.”

  “Nancy Drew. Cool girl. I like her car. And her hair,” I said. “Strawberry yellow. Blond. Strawberry blond.”

  I realized I was still feeling a little … floaty. Everything felt kinda … nice. The sheets were so white. And the pillow was so soft. And—

  I blinked a few times and tried to concentrate. “So … but where does that put her and what’s-his-name? Ken. Kenny. Ken.”

  Joe looked over his shoulder. The room was empty. And sunny. Pretty sunshine.

  “According to Janet—and I’m kinda wanting to believe her—she is playing Ken. She’s just trying to get close to him because she thinks he might have murdered Zack.”

  “Because?” I knew I should be able to figure this out. But my brain was sort of … slow … right now.

  “Because Ken wanted Janet for himself. And he knew she wouldn’t go for him if Zack was in the game,” Joe explained.

  “It’s about love. What percentage of murders do you think are about love?” I asked. “And how can something so beautiful cause so much falling off a mountain?”

  “You are seriously starting to freak me out,” Joe said. “Now focus. I don’t want to have to slap you.”

  “I’m focus. I am focus,” I told him.

  “Let’s talk about who probably did this to you. Before you slip off to la-la land.”

  I laughed. I knew the laugh made my throat hurt. But I couldn’t feel it hurting my throat. You know?

  “I would think Russell would be a likely choice. He’s set a few fires in his day, you know?” Joe said. “But I couldn’t come up with a motive for Russell, so—”

  I pointed at myself. “I got it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. I’m an amateur detective with my brother, remember?” I asked. I leaned toward Joe. “See, I’m not so doped that I forgot I wasn’t supposed to say I was—you know. The alphabet thing. That starts with A.”

  “Yeah, I got you. And that’s very important, the not talking about the alphabet thing. Remember that,” Joe said. “So you know why Russell would want to flambé you?”

  I closed my eyes. It helped me think better. Now where had I put that? Oh, yeah. There it was. The motive.

  “I went to talk to Saunders this a.m.,” I said. “It’s okay to say a.m. That’s not the bad A.”

  I heard Joe give a long, loud sigh. “I wanted to see if he cared that those guys—and me, Steve Neemy—beat you up. And you know what? He did. He chewed Smiley out for letting it happen.”

  “Good to know. Useful,” Joe said. “But Russell. Why—Oh. I get it. If Russell saw you talking to Saunders, he probably thought you were the snitch he’s so paranoid about.”

  “Bingo!” I like that word. I said it again. “Bingo!”

  “Right, bingo,” Joe said. “I think we have ourselves a number-one suspect in Zack’s murder. It’s doubtful that there are two killers running loose. Even at Camp Juvenile Delinquent.”

  “Camp Juvenile Delinquent.” I snorted. “You’re funny.”

  “Thank you very much. I’ll be here all week,” Joe shot back. “As I was saying, I doubt there are two murderers. So if we’re right about Russell torching the boathouse—”

  “With me in it,” I reminded him.

  “With you in it,” Joe repeated. “Then Russell is our most likely suspect for killing Zack. Janet was with me when the fire started. She has an alibi. Which puts her even lower on our list.”

  “Of who’s been naughty or nice,” I said. “I like Christmas,” I added. Thinking about it made me smile.

  “Right. So, you get some sleep—’cause Santa won’t come if you’re not sleeping,” Joe said. “And I’ll go spend some time with Russell.”

  There was something I wanted to say. Something important. Where did I put it? Oh, yeah.

  “Be careful,” I told my brother.

  11 YOU BETTER MAKE THE EFFORT

  “So how’s Steve?” Andrew asked when I returned to the bunk.

  Everyone in the place was in bunk lockdown until Saunders figured out what had happened at the boathouse. I’d been allowed out to visit Frank because I’m the one who pulled him out of the fire.

  “Steve is feeling no pain,” I answered.

  Usually I would have found it darn amusing to see Frank, aka Mr. Self-Control, all loopy. But considering he’d gotten that way on painkillers—after almost dying—not so much.

  “What were you guys doing out at the boathouse anyway?” Ken asked.

  I definitely didn’t want to tell Ken that I’d actually been out there because I was having a little heart-to-heart with the girl he thought was his girlfriend.

  Frank and I figured—Well, let’s face it, I had to do most of the figuring. Anyway, we figured Russell was looking like a very good suspect. But Ken was a decent second.

  I didn’t want him coming after me because he thought I was after Janet. At least I didn’t want that happening until I had Frank to watch my back.

  “What aren’t you telling us?” Russell demanded.

  “I’m not telling you that I was in the woods to sneak a pee, okay?” I shot back. It was the first thing that popped into my head.

  “If Saunders caught you peeing in a non-designated area, we’d be on KP duty forever,” Andrew said. “He likes his rules.”

  “Yeah, that’s why I didn’t tell you. I don’t need another lesson.”

  Andrew looked away. Like he was ashamed of what he’d done the night before.

  James didn’t look away. He glared right at me. “I think you do need another lesson. You better start thinking about what’s good for the team. Not just what’s good for you.”

  “It was good for my teammate Steve I was around,” I answered. “The boathouse was locked tight. Someone wanted that guy dead.” I looked over at Russell.

  “Why are you looking at me?” Russell asked.

  “Well, you were voted most likely to play with matches in the camp yearbook,” Andrew commented. He took off his glasses and polished them on his shirt.

  “So, what, I’m the only guy in the place who knows how to light a fire?” Russell raked his hands through his hair. “Unbelievable.”

  “Not so unbelievable,” James said. “How many arson arrests have you had?”

  Before Russell could answer, or launch into one of his spit-flying hissy fits, the bunk door swung open. Saunders and Smiley walked in.

  Saunders gave Russell the hairy pointer finger. “Pack your gear. You have disgraced yourself You have given up the privilege of being part of my program.”

  “The boathouse
, right?” Russell punched the wall. “Of course, ’cause I set a fire once, of course I’m gonna do it again.”

  “Once?” James repeated softly.

  Russell glared at him.

  “Are you saying you feel unfairly treated?” Saunders asked him. “Are you saying I’ve misjudged you?”

  “Hell, yeah, I am,” Russell yelled.

  “Show him,” Saunders told Smiley.

  Smiley pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket. Then he walked over to Russell’s foodlocker, opened it, and pulled out a shirt.

  Same color as the piece of material. I think even Frank in his current state could have figured out where this was going.

  Smiley held the strip of material up to the shirt. It wasn’t exactly like putting a piece into a jigsaw puzzle, but it was close.

  “We found this”—Smiley flapped the piece of cloth in Russell’s face—“at the boathouse. Along with some footprints that match the tread and size of your hiking boots.”

  “You’ll have a trial, of course,” Saunders said. “But you won’t be coming back here. This is a place for men who want to take charge of their lives and make a change. Start packing.”

  “I did not set that building on fire. If I had, I damn sure wouldn’t have left a piece of my shirt behind,” said Russell angrily.

  Smiley grabbed a gym bag out of Russell’s footlocker and started throwing stuff in. Less than two minutes later, Russell went bye-bye.

  “And that’s it. He’s gone. He’s in juvie.” James dropped down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

  “It’s not like you actually care, is it?” Andrew asked him.

  “That could be me. That could be any of us. Except, I’d be heading off to prison. Prison,” James repeated dramatically.

  “You don’t really have to worry about it as long as you don’t burn down any buildings,” I told him.

  James leaped off the bed. “You just don’t get it, do you? That’s not how it is here. Saunders is king. And the king can do what he wants. He can send me out of here because he doesn’t like the smell of my socks.”

  “Wish I could,” Andrew said. “Your socks are ripe.”

  I laughed. So did a couple of the other guys.

  “You need to stop laughing,” James told us. “You need to believe me when I tell you that if anyone does anything that puts me at risk, I will bring the apocalypse down on you. You heard Saunders the other day. He can and will toss an entire team if he feels like it.”

  James directed a lot of that little speech at me. And he kept on going. “Saunders booted a guy a while ago because he lost some swimming race. He didn’t think the guy was being a good team player. Didn’t think the guy put forth the effort. Well, everyone in this bunk is putting forth the effort on everything.”

  He walked over to me. Moved in close. At least he didn’t spit the way Russell did. “You better make the effort,” he told me. “Or you’re going to end up with more than those few little bruises we gave you.”

  12 RIDING THE WHITE WATER

  “This is where it’s all going to take place,” Smiley said. “The Dead River.”

  The team was lined up next to our canoes. We’d lugged them from the camp vans over to the edge of the river.

  “Tomorrow we race Grueber’s team from this point down to the Forks, where the Kennebec meets up with the Dead,” Smiley continued.

  I couldn’t help thinking back to the day Joe and I got our mission. The way he joked about ATAC giving us a vacation.

  Even though I’d just gotten out of the infirmary, I was getting a little bit of vacation vibe. Joe’s and my top suspect had been sent to juvie. And today we were forced to spend time on this awesome river.

  Yep, I might want to do more investigating. But I couldn’t. For the next few hours it was going to be all haystacks, sieves, holes, and waves. I couldn’t wait to get paddling.

  “I don’t think I need to tell you that this team needs to win tomorrow,” Smiley said. “This team has been a disgrace. This team needs to redeem itself.”

  This team? Or you? I thought.

  “You’ll be battling more white water per square mile than in any other river in the east.” Smiley started pointing pairs of guys toward their canoes. “The dam’s been released. So that will make things extra challenging. Are you up for the challenge?”

  There were a few muttered “yeah”s. I didn’t say anything. Steve wasn’t an enthusiastic guy. I had to keep reminding myself not to smile. It was hard. More white water per square mile than any other river. How could you hear that and not want to grin like a maniac?

  Smiley pointed Joe and James to a canoe. That wasn’t going to be fun for my brother. But maybe he’d find out something worth knowing. Like whether or not James should still be on our list of suspects.

  “I said, are you up for the challenge?” Smiley bellowed.

  He got a slightly louder response. Only slightly.

  Smiley scowled. He was clearly angry. But what was he going to do? Assign us push-ups for “yeah”ing too softly?

  “You’d better be. If we lose, you’ll all be getting up an hour earlier for a nice morning run.”

  That got a response. Some nice loud moans.

  Smiley slapped a life jacket into my hands. “You and I will have to pair up. I’m putting you new boys with experienced paddlers until I see how you handle yourselves. Tim, you’re strong enough to go solo.”

  Getting buddied up with Smiley lowered my vacation vibe a bit. But just a bit. ’Cause this river—it was just begging me to play.

  “Okay, let’s do this. Remember the scouting we did. Run hard. Run fast.”

  Smiley and I got our canoe into the water. Leading the group. Almost immediately the river narrowed. A wall of rock came up on the right. Not something you’d want to hit.

  I knew we had about a third of a mile before we plunged into a pool. And oh, yeah! Here was the wave train leading up to it.

  “Saunders is going to be so proud of the team if we win this thing,” Smiley shouted. It was hard to hear him over the rushing water.

  He glanced at me over his shoulder. I nodded. I couldn’t believe the guy was trying to have a conversation now. Whoops!

  My stomach bounced up to my throat as we dropped down into the pool. The next thing we had to do was catch the eddy that would be coming up on the right.

  “A win would really make him forget about Russell. And about that fiasco on the mountain,” Smiley continued. The muscles in his throat had to be aching. He had to scream every word.

  I ignored him. If we missed the eddy, we could crash into a nasty boulder.

  Here it comes, here it comes. And—got it.

  We flew forward. The river widened. My eyes whipped back and forth. I wanted to take in everything. Yeah, there was the spume of white water I was looking for. “Hole coming up river left,” I called to Smiley.

  The canoe bucked like a bronco when we hit it. What a ride!

  We swept down the pour-over. Smiley and I both paddled hard to maneuver the wide eddy that met us at the bottom.

  And suddenly we were in the section of the river people call the minefield. Ranked Class III + on the International Scale of Difficulty. Which means high, irregular waves. Lots of maneuvering necessary.

  I hoped Smiley had stopped thinking about Smiley and started thinking about the Dead River. Because here came some haystacks—waves that pretty much stood still. Caused by obstacles on the river bottom.

  I think I actually let out an un-Steve-like “Whee!” I couldn’t help it. It was like a water roller coaster. Leading to a big, trashy hole.

  Paddle, paddle, paddle, I ordered myself. We slalomed around the big, bad hole and around some smaller ones, then hit another pour-over.

  We pulled right to enter the pinball section of the river. The name pretty much says it all. We were knocked around like one of the metal balls in an old machine. Ding!

  Then the Dead gave us a little bit of a break. We were still
shooting rapids, but they weren’t as intense. But they got whiter with every few feet.

  I spotted the big boulder that had been painted red. I remembered it from the hours we’d spent scouting the river before we put the canoes in. This was the start of Upper Popular Hill Falls.

  I knew there was a hole at the bottom on this section. A hole that was as wide as the river. We needed to punch it.

  And punch it we did! Then we were riding the wave train of Popular Hill Falls.

  Way too soon it was over. What a run.

  Smiley and I got our canoe out of the water. “I wish Saunders could have seen that!” he exclaimed.

  I looked back up the river. Here came Tim. Perfect. Now Andrew and Ken. Ouch! They cart-wheeled about five times coming toward us. But they didn’t capsize.

  Charlie and Dylan’s canoe came next. That just left Joe and James.

  Where were they? The current was so strong. It’s not like they could really slow down. Even if they wanted to.

  There! I saw the canoe.

  My body turned cold.

  I saw the canoe. But it was empty.

  It flipped over. And I saw the hole in the bottom.

  13 DROWNING

  Water slammed down on me, pinning me to the bottom of the river. My life vest was about to get swept away. Somehow it had slid off one of my arms.

  My lungs ached. I couldn’t see anything. I struggled in the direction I thought was up.

  But the water was too powerful. It pushed me down with more force than I could fight.

  Then suddenly the fight got easier. There was a force pulling me up. Battling the downward push of the water.

  Frank. My brother had me by the back of my shirt. I could see his legs kicking as he worked to bring us both to the surface.

  Just seeing him gave me back some strength. I whipped my legs back and forth, adding to Frank’s effort.

  We surfaced. Nothing has looked as good as the sun. Nothing has felt as good as air moving into my lungs.

  “If you wanted to go swimming, you should have worn a wet suit,” Frank gasped. “This water is cold.”

  “Just the way I like it,” I answered through my chattering teeth. “Plus, now I can use some of that extra underwear. I didn’t want to have brought it for nothing.”