“Maria, to the top of the cliff,” Anjum commanded. “Nia, attack the tail. And I’ll distract it.”
Anjum screamed at the beast, waving his hands. Then he barreled right at it. Derick had charged the beast, but this was different. Anjum had its attention. He was squaring off against it, knowing it was focused and ready to attack back with all its strength. Intense.
The beast flew only a few feet, then slammed down next to Anjum. The wind knocked the student from India backward, and with a swipe of its talons, Anjum cried out and fell.
Everyone attacked at once, coming to their leader’s aid. Maria had enough time to get several feet up the cliff and then she leaped onto the dragon’s back. She moved with all the grace of a dancer, but a deadly one. She drove her swords in between the dragon’s scales.
Derick swung against it again and again. Rafa tried to stab it with the sharp edge of his shield. Nia, Carol, and Abby moved in closer and rifled arrows at the dragon’s head. Malcolm pushed again on his spear, driving it deeper into its leg, while Piper came in with another stab.
Finally, the great dragon reared back and fell to the earth.
Me? Or Me?
All of the Spartans erupted in cheers—in exhausted, but victorious cheers—as the world faded. They had just done what had felt impossible; they had defeated a dragon.
One more round left.
But nothing happened. No other world came into view.
“Isn’t there supposed to be one more challenge?” Derick asked.
“Yes,” Anjum said, still winded from the battle with the dragon. “This is strange.”
“I guess they’re having technical difficulties,” Nia said.
“Or not,” Abby said. “This may be the last challenge. We’re in the virtual booths in Cragbridge Hall.”
“That is correct,” a voice said. “Now for the final challenge, join your leader in the large virtual booth on the auditorium stage.”
“Go! Go! Go!” Anjum screamed.
Derick shot out of his booth, seeing the others do the same. It was a bit more cumbersome to run in the suit he had to use for the virtual booths, but he tore down the hallway as fast as he could. Security guards and bots lined the halls—a reminder that they were being watched very carefully, that there was more than a simple competition at stake.
Abby was several yards ahead, her runner’s legs carrying her faster. Derick glanced back to see Malcolm lumbering in the rear. He was big and the slowest of the bunch, but still rather fast. Rafa was also behind Derick. Normally, he would be close to the lead. He was probably worn out from fighting the dragon.
They burst through the open doors to a packed auditorium of students. The crowd erupted in screams and applause. Whoever designed this ending knew how to create excitement. It seemed that the whole school was on their feet stomping and cheering.
It only fed their energy. Derick rushed up the aisle and leaped onto the stage. Several small booths lined the outside, but one large booth stood in the center, big enough to fit the entire team. One by one they filed into the large virtual booth in the center. Anjum was already there, cowering against the back corner. The whole team had come to him.
They closed the door, the sound of the crowd dimming outside of their box.
That meant they were in the lead, right? They were the first team in. Or was this it? Was just getting here the end?
Everything went quiet. The team waited in the dark.
The inside of the booth lit up with a minotaur, and then Derick with a sword. At first Derick thought he was under attack again, but realized he was seeing highlight footage from the labyrinth challenge. The next image showed the team rushing Anjum back to their rover on Mars. Abby ran across campus for the last square in the first challenge. Highlight after highlight appeared all around them. Though muffled, they could hear the crowd returning to their screams. The same images must have been portrayed in the auditorium as well.
“Congratulations!” Landon’s voice came in strong, “to the winning team of the 2075 Race—the
Spartans
!”
They had done it.
Derick high-fived Rafa, who was smiling bigger than he had ever seen. Malcolm hugged them both and Derick thought his lungs would burst. He looked over at Abby, who had tears in her eyes. They had worked hard, had given their all, and they had done it. As soon as Malcolm let go, Derick hugged his sister.
“We wanted them to experience their win as a team, in virtual reality,” Sarah explained. She showed on a screen inside the booth. “We also wanted a way to congratulate them one by one. We’ll have each of them step out, take a bow, and you can applaud their great work. Then they can open the box to gain the key . . .” Her voice faded, as did the team’s view inside the booth. After a few moments, the crowd began to murmur.
“I believe,” a voice said, and then a virtual version of Mr. Silverton appeared in the booth, bald and pudgy, “you were told that at the end of this challenge, the winners would learn a secret. I promised you that.” What was happening? How was Mr. Silverton’s image coming across the virtual booth? Had he escaped?
But the image changed to Mrs. Flink, with her bushy red hair and standing shorter than Mr. Silverton. “Or was it me? Did I promise a secret?” It changed to Mr. Sul. “Or me?” Then Chief Shar. “Or me?” Whoever was doing this had recreated all of the prime suspects virtually. What did it mean?
“At any rate,” the virtual Mr. Silverton said, smiling through his dark beard, “you have tried hard, worked together, and not given up.” Derick didn’t believe this was a compliment. Virtual Chief Shar returned. “As promised, I will tell you more. I have sent you the message, but I might as well tell it while I’m here.”
Derick watched as the changing virtual narrators told the greatest and most dangerous secret he had ever heard and that he had risked his life to protect. He double-checked to make sure that those outside couldn’t also hear it. It seemed to be a conversation just for the winners, but his heart still raced. Derick surveyed the faces of the team. Thankfully, they knew this already.
“Some in this very virtual room have keys to control time,” the virtual people inside the booth said. “And to those who don’t, I’m at least partially sorry that you are caught in this dangerous game.” There it was. That sounded like something Muns would say. “You should have chosen your teammates better. I’m afraid you’ll suffer for it.”
Derick looked at his team, their faces filled with questions and fear.
“You see.” It was back to Mr. Silverton. “Those with keys had to pass through challenges to earn the secret, and I made them pass challenges to try to protect it. In the past, they used avatars to take back what I had stolen. So I had them use robots, which are also avatars, to steal something for me. And in the past, Abby and her friends rescued the hostages I took. So now you are the hostages. This booth is locked tight. You cannot get out.”
Immediately, Malcolm tried the steel door to the booth. It wouldn’t budge. Rafa joined him and they slammed into it together. Nothing.
“I have another secret I need to share with you.” Now it was virtual Landon. “And I think it’s time to let everyone in on this conversation.”
“Everyone in the auditorium can see him now,” Nia reported, checking her rings.
The image switched. It now showed a device, small, like a vial. “This is an interesting contraption,” a voice said. There were no longer changing images. “I know, I know. You think Chief Shar stole them and the police got them back. Well, I took the liberty of switching out at least one with a very believable copy. I’m good at switching things out with fakes. I did the same thing with Mrs. Flink’s key.”
Derick’s heart beat faster. The vial was here, and whoever was behind all this was definitely free and still in charge.
“So that leads us here.” The screens still showed the vial. “When it explodes, a cloud of tranquilizer will cover this school. I took the liberty of using chemicals from the school. I stole them the same way I did to frame Mr. Silverton. I couldn’t have him double-checking my messages. I used a robot, similar to the kind I framed Mr. Sul for trying to steal. I couldn’t have any more of his nosy questions. And this device will explode with such force that if anyone is nearby, they likely won’t survive.”
The voice paused a moment, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. “So, I thought I’d do you the favor of not telling you where it is. If it is outside, it will seep into every building. Or if it is inside, it will create such pressure that it will explode windows and doors and creep outside. But it does not blow away or fade for weeks. Unless you evacuate, everyone in the school will be comatose for months.”
Derick shook his head. How could they have ever seen this coming?
“Right now,” the voice continued, the vial still displayed on the screen and in the virtual booth, “as you can see, it is timed to explode in thirty minutes.” A screen on the vial counted down the time. “It is somewhere here on the Cragbridge Hall campus.” The last image faded and a different voice remained in blackness. “I believe it’s time for everyone to go.”
Derick heard the chaos of screaming and shouting. Whatever Muns’s plan was, it involved evacuating everyone.
“Except, of course, for you,” virtual Mr. Sul said to those inside the booth. This part was obviously meant for only them. “Now it’s your turn to be the hostages. No one can get you out. When the bomb goes off, the gas will seep into this container through any creases and hinges and when you wake, Charles Muns will have your keys and all power over time.” The image of Mr. Sul laughed. “I also locked in the teachers and the Cragbridges in the medical unit. I thought it fitting that they should join you.”
Pounding
The Spartans pounded on the doors several times, but they didn’t budge.
Outside of the booth, a security officer spoke into the microphone on her rings, which amplified her voice. “Stay calm, but evacuate quickly. Do not return to dorms or rooms. Leave the premises immediately. I repeat: Do not return to your dorms or rooms. Leave the premises immediately.” Other security guards tried the door to the booth from the outside. They needed to get everyone outside the school.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Maria said. She kicked at the sturdy door and winced.
“I really don’t like this Muns guy,” Malcolm said, panting from all his effort against the door. “And if my mama knew about him, he would get such an earful he wouldn’t be able to see straight.”
“He has us trapped,” Abby said, her stomach sinking.
“And if it wasn’t for you guys getting us into this,” Maria said, pointing at Derick and Rafa, “we’d be safely walking out of here like everybody else.”
“We didn’t know this would happen,” Rafa defended. “We were trying to . . .”
“But you knew this was dangerous,” Maria snipped back.
“Your lives were probably already on the line,” Piper said. “But now ours are too.”
“Did you want us just to sit back and do nothing?” Derick yelled. Perhaps it came out more powerful than he had intended. “Should I have stopped and decided someone else would take care of it? That I’m just a kid and I should let the adults deal with it?”
They didn’t have a response. Abby looked at her brother, his eyes still glaring intensely.
“We had to try,” Derick said. “We had to.”
“But we failed,” Nia added.
“It’s not over,” Abby said, “but it doesn’t look good. Everyone else with a key will be escorted out of the school grounds. Out there they aren’t as protected. Muns’s men can attack them and take their keys. They will be wide-open targets.” She thought of all the men Muns had at his command. It would be easy. Then again, why so many? It seemed like they would only need a few who knew which teachers to attack.
“And then they can come in and get our keys,” Rafa said. “Because we’ll be tranquilized and dreaming.”
“Also,” Derick said, “Muns’s men can take the keys straight to Muns. They won’t have to pass through any more security checkpoints. They won’t have anything to stall them.”
“Muns comes up with some terrible plans,” Carol said, pressing against the door once more. “If only he could use his talents to plan something else. Like weddings. With this kind of thought, they could be killer.”