The Fight for Kidsboro (43 page)

At 2:45, the troops were already crouched down into position, with a pile of snowballs at each foot. Alice had people stationed in every area of town. The whole place was surrounded, most heavily around our arsenal. Even though each person in the army had his or her own set of snowballs, the big pile was hardly even dented. Running out of ammunition would not be likely.

The weather, however, might be a problem. The wind was kicking up and sleet was blowing horizontally into our faces. Because of the thick clouds flying overhead, It was dark—almost like dusk—even though It was the middle of the afternoon.

I knelt in position, with my pile of snowballs nearby, and peered around at the tense faces.

Jill wiped her face with her sleeve quickly, so as not to block her eyesight for more than a split second, in case they decided to attack early.

Nelson was our lookout man in the trees, his eyes buried in the binoculars. I could see him shivering because of the wind. The tree he was in swayed dangerously back and forth, but he didn't seem to notice.

Mark was making more snowballs, thoughtlessly increasing his pile. Just to make sure.

Alice stood closest to the creek, staring the enemy in the face, daring them to come. She had no ammunition.

I could barely see the Maxites across the creek because of the darkness and snow, but I could tell they were preparing to come across. They were getting into a double-file line.

The wind howled around us. Other than that … silence.

Ring!

What was that? It was coming from my jacket. My cell phone was ringing—the one my mother had given to me so I could call for help if I saw my father. But it had never rung before. I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. I pushed the talk button.

“Hello?”

It was my mom. The connection was bad. I could barely make out “Ryan, get home now—”
Click
. What had happened? Had the phones gone out? It was probably the weather. But maybe not.

Maybe somebody had grabbed the phone out of her hand.

Maybe my father had hung up the phone.

“I gotta go.” I stood up and ran as fast as my numb legs could carry me.

The troops couldn't believe I was chickening out. I didn't care. I had to get to my mom.

I got there in record time. The lights were on. I looked inside and didn't see anyone. I pushed open the door and ran inside. My mom was in the kitchen, trying to get the phone to work. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. The phones are out. Why didn't you come home earlier?”

“For what?”

“It's a blizzard out there, Ryan! Didn't you notice? The forecast says it's going to get worse. Frozen rain, sleet, hail—it's dangerous. They're telling everyone to take cover. We're going into the basement. Come on.”

“I can't,” I said, still out of breath.

“What?”

“I have to go back.”

“No, you're not.”

“I have to tell the others. They'll stay out there. I need to go get 'em.”

“They don't have enough sense to go home themselves?”

“Not right now, they don't. Can I go?”

“Okay. But you make sure you're back in this house in five minutes. I'll call some of the other parents if I can get the phone to work.”

“Got it.”

I was out the door before I could take another breath.

10

THE BRIDGE

T
HE STORM HAD GOTTEN EVEN
worse since I'd left just 10 minutes before. Visibility was down to about 30 feet. I couldn't even see the creek, much less the people on the other side of it. None of our troops appeared to have moved from their stations. Nelson was still in his tree; everyone else was in their crouched positions. They were going through with this, no matter what.

I shouted, “Go home! There's a storm coming!” But no one listened. They were soldiers, protecting their land. If they left, the Maxites would destroy their houses without a fight. They could not back down now.

I ran to Alice. “Alice! Tell them to retreat. We have to get out of here!”

“It's too late,” she said. “I've already sent a Green Beret team out.”

“What?”

“Three of our men snuck around the wall and are taking out the bridge at this very moment.”

“What?!” The bridge was made out of heavy chains and wooden slats, and It was fastened onto the bank with screws into wooden planks. A heavy duty wrench could free the chains and drop the bridge into the water.

“No!” I yelled, running toward the creek. The Maxite army was marching double-file toward the bridge, their snowball bags at the ready. I plunged through the opening in the wall and saw that I was one moment too late. The first man was about to cross when—“Now!” I heard from below the bridge, and suddenly, the chains fell and the bridge collapsed into the rushing creek. Several pieces of wood broke in half on the rocks, destroying any chance of ever using the bridge again. The Maxite first in line nearly fell in, but then he found his balance and scrambled back onto the bank.

Max ran up to see what was happening and saw that there was no way for them to get across the creek. The Water rushed past us, out of control and rising. To cross it on foot would be too dangerous in such a current.

The Green Beret team high-fived each other, but no one else found this very funny. The Maxites were in trouble. The driving ice and rain hurt our faces. We had to get these people to safety. No longer were these people our enemies, they were people in grave danger.

“How are we gonna get outta here?” a Maxite yelled.

Alice rushed up to me, realizing the same thing I did. We had to help them. “The rope!” she shouted. “I put a rope upstream. You can go across on that!”

“No,” Max yelled. “We found that rope and cut it in half.”

Nelson ran up. “Try this.” He squeezed his Moccasin through the door in the wall.

We lowered the craft into the water, and Alice held it as steady as she could. There were launching ropes on both sides of the boat. People on either side could hold the ropes tight so the watercraft wouldn't get swept away in the current. Nelson and I held one end, and a couple of Maxites held the other end.

Slowly, the first two Maxites got into the boat. Their weight, plus the current, made holding onto the rope difficult. With all the strength we had, we pulled them across and they stepped onto the bank.

Hey, this was working! A crowd of Kidsborians had gathered on the banks and were clapping.

The Moccasin threatened to get away from us in the swift current, and the Maxites on the other shore started to panic. Four of them scrambled to get on at once.

“No! Two at a time!” Nelson shouted. The four fought each other to make room, and the weight was enormous. Mark came up behind us to help pull them in, but it was too much.

The boat capsized, sending all four into the water. Two of them leaped onto the shore, but two more were caught by the current. I let go of the rope and jumped into the freezing water. Alice jumped in after me. I grabbed hold of a hand—I'm not sure whose—and battled the current, but it was too strong. Nelson had my feet. The water was pouring over my face, but I briefly saw that Alice had rescued one person, and she was coming after me. I felt a strong arm grasp under my arms and pull me onto the bank. The boy I tried to rescue was on the shore with me. We all watched as the Moccasin was taken by the current. It plummeted down the waterfall.

I turned to anyone who was listening. “Run to Whit's End! Get Mr. Whittaker! And call the fire department!”

But the fire department was 10 minutes away, and with the roads as icy as they were, it might even take 20. These people needed to get across now. But the fire department gave me an idea … fire truck … ladder …

“The wall!” I shouted, rising to my feet. “We'll take down the wall and lay it across. They can crawl across it.”

Everyone seemed to like this idea, or at least they weren't sure they could come up with anything else, so we scrambled to the wall. Alice knocked it down with one heave, and 10 of us picked it up and took it to the edge of the creek. Slowly, we inched it across, until it made a bridge.

The first Maxite, Luke Antonelli, tried it out. Before he ventured across, he pounded the wood into the ground on the other bank. He was trying to make sure it was sturdy. It wasn't. Max had obviously built a shoddy wall. Luke inched across one wooden plank, but it cracked in the middle. He backed off and tried another one.

Three planks later, he found one that held. But he had to take it slowly. He shifted to place some of his weight on a wire that stretched across. If this piece of wood broke, the wall would be worthless.

Everyone on both sides of the creek held their breath as Luke inched like a caterpillar across the make shift bridge. I reached out my hand for him, and he stuck out his own. We connected, and three of us pulled him across.

The next Maxite was ready, and with more confidence after seeing it done, he crawled more quickly.

With every person, the wood seemed to groan a little more. Finally, it was Max's turn, the last Maxite to go.

He started across. The wood creaked. Panicking, he burst forward.

Too fast.

The wood cracked, bent, and shattered underneath him. As he fell toward the water, he flung out his hand—and found mine. I grasped with all my might and held him for a split second until I felt a strong hand reach across me and grab Max's wrist. It was Mr. Whittaker.

Max dangled from his hand for a moment, then with one big heave, we pulled him ashore.

We caught our breath, and then we all ran through Kidsboro toward Whit's End.

Most of the people ran on to their own homes, but some went to Whit's End because It was closer. Five Maxites and four Kidsborians took shelter under its roof. Mr. Whittaker called everybody's parents to tell them we were okay and would be welcome to stay until the storm passed. Two of the people who had to stay were Max and Scott. Max never said thank you, but he nodded to me once, and that was enough. I could expect no more from him.

Mr. Whittaker had some clean clothes he kept on hand for Little Theater productions. I chose some clothes like Joseph from the Christmas story. I put them on and sat in front of the fireplace. I saw Scott on my way from the bathroom, and he smiled at me and said, “So, you think you're Aquaman now?”

I smiled back and said, “Pretty much.”

Mr. Whittaker ran around serving everyone hot chocolate. I took a cup and said, “Thank you.” Our eyes met.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Whittaker. I was mad at you, and you were just trying to teach me something.”

“That's okay, Ryan. Sometimes people pay a price to learn a lesson, and sometimes people pay a price to teach one. The important thing is that the lesson was learned.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Merry Christmas, Ryan,” he said.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Whittaker.”

It was the eve of Christmas Eve, and for the first time, it felt like it. There was peace inside Whit's End. There Was a nativity scene on the mantle above the fireplace. I moved one of the shepherds so that he could clearly see the baby Jesus. Scott did the same for a donkey.