Making the Cut (9 page)

All four boys ran off, although it wasn’t easy with all the trees, brush, fallen logs and branches. Some of the trees were huge, especially the evergreens. They wound their way as best they could, hugging the hillside to keep out of sight.

“Zebra Squad,” Charlie hissed. “Danger at twelve o’clock.”

Two Red defenders were wandering through the woods towards them. At that moment, Jen blew her whistle. The game was on.

Charlie and Slogger ducked behind a tree. Unfortunately, Simon and Gabriel only found a scraggly bush to hide them. They lay on the ground, but the Red players spotted them.

“Over here,” one of them cried, and three more Reds came bounding over.

Simon and Gabriel scrambled to their feet and ran towards the field, with the Red defenders hot on their heels. Charlie pulled on Slogger’s arm.

“We can sneak along the ridge. They’ll be too busy with those guys.”

“Proceed with caution, dude. We’re in enemy territory.”

Charlie grinned and together they continued along, looking closely for Red’s flag.

Off in the distance Charlie heard someone yell, “You’re going to jail!” which got his adrenaline going.

“Let’s regroup behind those bushes and figure out where the flag’s hidden.”

They wasted no time throwing themselves behind a huge evergreen tree.

“We need some walkie-talkies to communicate with Headquarters,” Charlie joked.

“I’m sure they’d be impressed that we found a tree to hide behind,” Slogger laughed.

Charlie peered through the branches and spotted Simon and Gabriel being led by three defenders. “Looks like they captured two members of Zebra Squad.”

“I think our mission is clear,” Slogger said.

Charlie pretended to talk into a walkie-talkie. “Delta, Delta, this is Zebra Squad. We’re attempting a rescue before capturing the flag. Over.”

“What did they say?”

“Couldn’t hear them. Signal is jammed.”

They crawled along the ridge, dropping to the ground if a Red player came too close and, using the trees as cover, wound their way closer and closer to Red’s jail. Charlie got to within ten metres, using another big evergreen as cover. Slogger was a little ways back, hidden
behind the trunk of a massive maple. Four of their teammates were in the jail, including Simon and Gabriel. Five defenders were guarding and taunting their prisoners.

“You guys managed to stay free for about ten seconds. Enjoying the game?”

“Check out this dude — I think he’s crying.”

“And this one’s wet his pants.”

They laughed uproariously.

Charlie held up three fingers and Slogger nodded. He counted down, and then they both charged the jail. Charlie, who had been closer, got there first.

“Freedom — Blue team!” he screamed.

“Where’d he come from?” a defender yelled, scrambling to his feet.

The prisoners scattered in every direction, as the Red defenders charged after them.

“Zebra Squad — meet at midfield,” Simon yelled.

“There’s that Joyce guy,” a Red player said. “After him!”

Charlie saw Slogger race to the open side of the field. “Go for it, Slogger! I’ll see you in friendly territory,” he yelled, opting for the forest instead.

It was tough going, and because he was running so fast, he came close to wiping out a bunch of times. His daredevil tactics worked, however, and soon he managed to put some distance between himself and the Red players.

“We’d better go back to the jail,” he heard one guy say.

“Yeah. He ain’t worth the hassle,” another said.

With a sense of relief, Charlie slowed up. He figured the Blue end was about twenty metres further, and then he could safely leave the forest. Charlie ambled to his right, looking around for an opening.

Just then, he felt a hard thump in the stomach, and his breath left him. Ambushed! The defender wrapped a pair of enormous arms around him in a bear hug and tackled him to the ground, landing full on top, winding Charlie again. The defender was huge and Charlie couldn’t move.

“Yo! Come over, guys. I got Joyce.”

Just his luck to be captured by Zane. “You can get off me now,” Charlie gasped.

Zane answered by pressing Charlie’s head into the ground. A pine cone dug into his forehead. Then, “Get up slowly,” Zane ordered.

Charlie crawled to his knees. Zane jerked him to his feet.

“Chill, dude. It’s just a game,” Charlie said.

The other defenders who’d been chasing him had doubled back when Zane called them.

“Zane, awesome tackle,” Richard said.

“You’re down, Joyce,” the other kid said.

Charlie was still catching his breath.

“Aw, poor little guy’s upset. Can anyone get this baby some juice?”

“That’s funny, dude. Joyce needs some juice.”

“Hey. Let’s call him Juice,” Richard said gleefully.

“Call him Apple Juice,” Zane said, which caused an uproar of laughter.

“Into jail, Apple Juice!”

Charlie felt like he was back in grade three. These guys were so lame. It was irritating to get caught, but he was sure Zebra Squad would set him free in no time. The tackle was hard to take, though. Punching a guy in the stomach and then slamming him to the ground was way over the top. But then what else could he expect from a mental case like Zane. He trudged off towards Blue’s jail. Zane and the others began talking behind him in muffled voices. He struggled to hear. He heard the words ridge and plan, and then Richard distinctly said, “trouble,” and Zane said, “Who cares?” What were they up to, he wondered.

He focused harder on listening, but they’d stopped talking. About a second later he found out anyway.

“What the …?”

Zane and Richard threw him to the ground, took him by the ankles and began to drag him across the ground. Sticks and pine cones cut into his back. Two more defenders took hold of his arms and, laughing hysterically, they began to run with him. Charlie twisted and turned in vain to try to break free, even grabbing onto a bush, only to end up with a handful of painful thistles.

“Let me go, you idiots!” he screamed.

“Shut up, Apple Juice,” Zane mocked.

Charlie suddenly realized they were headed away from the jail. “Where are we going?” he asked, getting a bit nervous.

“How would you like to take a trip to the ravine?”
Zane asked. He lowered his voice to sound menacing. “All together now, boys.”

They began to swing him.

“Get lost. Let go. This is dumb,” Charlie said, struggling to keep calm. There were rocks, bushes and scraggly trees leading to the ravine — and it looked a bit like a cliff. His heart was pounding. A feeling of panic spread up his back and a sick feeling filled his stomach.

“On the count of three!” Zane declared.

“One … two … two and a half … two and three-quarters …”

Charlie closed his eyes in relief. They weren’t getting to three. Obviously they were only trying to scare him.

“Okay. Let’s take A.J. to jail,” Richard said.

“We totally got you, Apple Juice,” another kid said, laughing.

The guys holding his arms let him go. His head banged the ground.

“You guys are chicken,” Zane said. “I say no prisoners!”

He grabbed Charlie’s right leg and pulled him violently towards the edge. Charlie grabbed frantically at a small rock lodged into the ground, just as Zane’s foot thudded into his ribs. Charlie felt his grip slip away.

And then he was falling.

For the first five metres he slid sideways, but then his hip caught the root of a tree and he started somersaulting, bounding off tree trunks and skidding over rocks. Faster and faster he tumbled until he was dizzy and totally disoriented. A sharp pain shot down his arm
when a branch jabbed into his shoulder. His hip crashed into a fallen tree, sending him right over and onto his back. Terrified, he closed his eyes and raised his arms to protect his head, as his back scraped along the corner of a rock.

And just when he thought it would never end, he thudded headlong into a large bush. It really hurt, and for a few moments he had to fight for his breath. But he wanted to give that bush a huge hug. Right behind it stood a massive boulder. He would have smashed right into it.

He could have been killed!

Charlie groaned and gingerly rolled himself out of the bush. At first he couldn’t even get up and he just lay there on the ground. His entire body ached and he worried there might have been some serious damage. His hip was especially painful and his hands were bloody from grabbing the thistles, but, as he got to his feet slowly, he discovered to his utter amazement that, apart from some substantial bruises and scrapes, he was okay and hadn’t actually broken anything. He could even walk without much trouble.

Although he had the scars to prove it, he couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Zane had actually thrown him down a cliff. He really was psychotic. Charlie wanted to charge back up and pound him out. The only problem was he didn’t have wings. It was way too steep. Hoping to find an easier section to climb, he followed a path that wound itself along the bank of the ravine. For what was probably about five minutes but felt like ages, he had
no luck — until, suddenly, he spied a narrow channel leading up the side of the hill, which he figured was made from the spring runoff of water from the field. It was still a very sharp incline, but, he thought, the sides of the channel should give him a foothold, and there were also a few shrubs on both sides to grab on to.

“Come on, Apple Juice,” he said to himself. “Time to climb.”

The first stretch was fairly easy. Then it got steep and soon he was forced to climb on his hands and knees, the rocks and tree roots adding to the bruises on his body. His hip was really throbbing now. He pushed the pain from his mind. What other choice did he have if he wanted to get back in the game? Using the shrubs as handgrips, Charlie managed to struggle his way over what he thought were the worst parts. Then he arrived to about five metres from the top. Charlie’s heart sank. Dead end.

No way was he going to be able to do that. He’d thought the climb to here was steep, but this was totally vertical. He scanned the surroundings for other options. About one-and-a-half metres to his right he noticed a thick tree root that jutted away from the side of the hill, forming a semicircle. If he could grab onto that root, maybe he could scramble up the side of the tree to the top. The only problem was, he’d have to jump for it — and if he missed, he’d almost certainly tumble right back down. He rubbed his hip and ribs. Not a pleasant possibility.

Climbing back down wasn’t an appealing option either, though, and if he tried another route, he’d
probably end up in the same predicament somewhere else. Charlie took a minute to steady his nerves, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Then, he opened his eyes wide and launched himself full out at the tree root. He caught hold and curled his fingers around it, but they didn’t make it all the way, and he felt his hands start to slip. He bore his toes into the side of the hill, desperate for leverage.

He was going to fall!

Just as he began to slip, his right shoe hit something. Was it a rock? Charlie pressed into it firmly with his foot. It held! By pushing off from the rock, he was able to reach back up, wrap an arm around the tree root and pull himself up. The root scraped his stomach and ribs as he did, but he couldn’t have cared less, he was so focused on reaching the top. Feeling around blindly overhead, he managed to get hold of a sturdy branch. “It’s up and over time, Joyce,” he whispered.

On the count of three, using the branch like a rope, he was able to hoist himself over the crest. Charlie immediately dropped to the level ground and lay on his back, battered, drenched in sweat and covered in mud and dirt, and replayed the entire incident in his mind.

The sound of muffled voices interrupted this restful moment.

“This is totally boring. We’ve been standing here the whole time. I want some action.”

“Zane told us to guard the flag.”

“Big deal. He ain’t my boss.”

“I wouldn’t wanna mess with that dude.”

“I hear ya. Guy’s an animal.”

“Dirtiest player I’ve ever played against. He butt-ended me yesterday in a stupid breakout drill, for no reason — just because.”

“I can’t believe what he did to that guy. What’s his name?”

“Joyce. Charlie Joyce.”

“He must be in some serious pain.”

“I bet he broke some bones for sure — I mean, it’s like a sheer cliff, no joke.”

“He’s that guy who messed with the rope on the obstacle course, right?

“Yeah; and I heard he lost his equipment and Jen went nuts on him.”

“Zane’s gonna get it, though; and maybe us too.” It was Richard, and he sounded worried. “I don’t really know the guy, but … well … that was crazed. He could’ve killed him.”

“We didn’t do it. Zane did. He’ll probably get kicked outta camp.”

“Like I care.”

“I still don’t see why we all gotta guard the flag the whole time. At least we should take shifts.”

“I hear ya. I’m done guarding. I wanna take a run at Blue’s flag, or at least tackle someone.”

“Me too. Let Zane guard the flag.”

“We can’t all go,” Richard said.

“As if anyone’s gonna find it behind that tree. It’s the best hiding spot of all time.”

Three of the guys wandered away, with only Richard
and one other hanging back.

Then all of a sudden it hit him. The flag! Behind a tree! Charlie looked up, and had to clamp his hand to his mouth to stop from laughing out loud. There it was, tied to the back of the bush — within arm’s reach! They must have put it there thinking no one could possibly see it. He reached up and grabbed the flag.

This was the perfect time to act. Three of the guards had left, and the other two were a good ten meters away. Climbing down was obviously out. No option left but to outrun them. That wasn’t the most appealing option either. He felt like his entire body was a bruise. His hip was killing, the thistles in his hands were really burning, and he had cuts and scrapes all over his arms and legs. But after what Zane had done, Charlie was ready to run through glass if it meant winning this stupid game.