Chapter 20

[To the reader: this chapter takes place about halfway through the book, when 12-year-old Andy MacLane finds himself in the middle of a dangerous rivalry with Jim Smith, the neighborhood bully. Andy has made the mistake of challenging Jim to a “duel” to see who can make and launch the most impressive model rockets.]

Andy's neighborhood lay almost at the edge of town. New housing developments had started to spring up to the south and east, but even a kid Andy's age could bicycle for twenty minutes and find himself in open farmland. When the time arrived for the rocketry duel with Jim Smith, a wheat field east of Denver seemed as good a place as any.

Andy's team, traveling together on their bicycles, arrived first. Most of the bikes were Schwinns with big balloon tires, shiny red or blue fenders, and a metal basket in front. The baskets ordinarily served to transport groceries, softball gear, or bits of junk scavenged from other people's trashcans. This time, however, the baskets held the boys' full arsenal of sixteen rockets, lots of motors, supplies, and a launch pad. Several drivers, passing them in their cars on Iliff Avenue, slowed and gawked when they saw this cargo. Andy felt powerful receiving such stares: what massive firepower a twelve-year-old boy could unleash!

"You sure this is the right place?" Kurt asked when the boys reached the designated site and parked their bikes beside the road.

"Sure I'm sure," Andy answered. "We followed the direc-tions."

"Kinda looks all the same," said Billy. He gestured at the wheat fields extending toward the horizon.

Just then Andy saw Jim Smith and his friends approaching on their bikes.

None of them greeted Andy, Kurt, or Billy as they arrived. Jim Smith glanced at Andy but said only, "Let's get this over with."

"Jim, there's a problem," Andy told him.

Jim went about his business removing his rockets strapped to his cargo basket. Andy couldn't believe how big the rockets were: four, even five feet tall. He'd never seen such huge model rockets. The biggest he'd ever made was maybe three feet long. They looked still more dangerous because he handled them so casually, tucking several under his arm like rolled-up maps. Jim Smith stepped off the road and started wading through the wheat. The Noller twins and the other boys followed him.

"Jim—"

"What." He turned to Andy in exasperation.

"The wheat's too tall."

"What'ya mean, too tall?"

"There's not enough, you know, clearance."

"Jeez Louise," Jim muttered. He turned and walked off.

"What if we start a fire?"

Jim ignored him. As he walked off, his pals followed with their rockets.

* * *

The duel began. No one had really discussed the rules, but since the whole point was to see which team had the best rockets, it made sense to take turns launching them. Each side could observe and judge. Andy wasn't worried about the out-come. Jim and his cronies would be stunned and humiliated by how Andy's rockets would perform. Speechless, they'd with-draw in silence after Andy had launched just a few. Now Andy and his friends set up their launch zones a hundred yards apart and got ready.

"Well?" came a shout, blown toward Andy by the wind.

Andy signaled okay.

Kurt and Billy had helped him set up the first rocket. It was a Big Bubba, the three-engine, single-staged whopper. Andy considered it a good one to send up first. The wind gusted now and then. He had learned that rockets don't fly well in a stiff breeze; they nose into the wind and go off course. If he could launch during a lull, he'd be fine. Otherwise he'd risk losing his rockets. He wanted to start with a relatively weak one to get a sense of how the wind would affect something more powerful.

Andy inserted the igniters and connected the electrical clips to the wires emerging from the rocket's motors. Kurt and Billy backed off. Andy switched on the launch control unit. The little indicator light flickered on. "Continuity check," he said.

"Verified," said Kurt.

"Check for low-flying aircraft," Andy said.

The boys looked around. "All clear," Billy said.

"Ten, nine, eight—"

"Hurry up!" came a shout from Jim's group.

"—seven, six, five—"

Catcalls reached him, but Andy couldn't hear them clearly.

"—four, three, two, one, zero!"

A rushing noise startled Andy as the rocket shot upward, trail-ing smoke.

"Yay!" Billy shouted.

Andy was thrilled. Big Bubba rose fast, veered east, and reached a height of five or six hundred feet before the ejection charge went off and the parachute emerged. Then the rocket rode the wind in Andy's direction. At first Andy didn't believe it would head so close to the place he'd launched it from; then he saw it coming straight toward him. Dropping the launch control, he sprinted through the wheat, the stalks thrashing at his legs, and caught Big Bubba as it descended.

Kurt and Billy cheered. Andy shouted back to them— "Look!"—and raised the rocket high for everyone to see.

Only then did he hear the catcalls. Andy couldn't make out any individual voices, just a jumble of hoots and hollers.

Annoyed, he set off across the field toward the launch pad.

"That was great!" Kurt shouted as he approached.

"Wasn't that cool?" Billy asked. "Really cool?"

"They weren't even impressed," Andy told his friends.

"They're jealous," said Kurt.

"I'm not so sure."

At that moment, Andy heard a strange noise. It resembled the rushing noise of his own rockets when they took off, but so much louder that it frightened him. He turned to Jim Smith and the others. Just then, something came toward him—flying sideways—and shot past overhead. Andy ducked instinctively. Glancing up, he saw a big black thing spiraling to the west almost out of control. Then it did an abrupt backflip and nose-dived into the ground. A blunt sound—thump!—reached Andy a few seconds later.

"They're incompetent!" Kurt shouted.

Andy felt rage and fear rising in his throat. "No, they're not!"

Again that rushing sound. Again the sudden appearance of something—a dark circle—rising. For a moment the angle made its ascent look almost vertical. Then Andy saw that this rocket wasn't going straight up at all. It was curving on a trajectory, its path flattening at first, then nosing downward. Toward Andy.

"Cripes!" Kurt yelled.

All three boys scattered.

The rocket hit almost at once.

It didn't thump into the wheat field like the first one; it exploded. Ka-room! Andy recognized the noise at once: Jim had armed the rocket with a big firecracker—a cherry bomb or an M-80.

Andy couldn't believe it. This was hitting below the belt!

He heard another rushing sound. Running hard now—he was trying to reach the road—he slammed into something and tripped. Fell hard. Got up, staggered, saw someone on the ground: Billy.

"Darn you!" Billy yelled at him. "Watch out!"

"Sorry—"

Andy forced himself up.

"What's he doing?"

"Let's get out of here!" Andy raced off.

Another rocket came down. The explosion followed at once. Then another.

Andy was terrified. The last one had been close—so close enough that he'd felt dirt and pebbles sprinkle over him. Forc-ing himself to stop, he saw Kurt right ahead. His face, when he turned to face Andy, was pale. "Why are they doing this?"

"I don't know! Let's just get out of here!"

Another rocket came down. Ka-room!

The boys scarcely made it to their bicycles. Kurt took a long time catching up. When he did, he couldn't seem to ride his bike, he wobbled and swerved, and he fell over just a few moments after setting off. At once a new fear hit Andy: Jim Smith and the others, riding their bikes, would catch up easily. They'd beat up everyone right there in the middle of the wheat field.

But they didn't. They ignored the escaping boys. They didn't even bother to launch a final salvo as Andy fled.

Then, turning as he pedaled off, Andy saw a terrifying sight: smoke spiraling out of the wheatfield.