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Authors: Michael Oechsle

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BOOK: Lost Cipher
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CHAPTER 11

When the alarm on George's big watch went off, the sky was beginning to brighten, but the sun was still below the crest of the mountains. At the sound of the alarm, Lucas and Alex were on their feet, still dressed from the night before. The high-pitched watch was tucked right next to George's ear, but the younger boy stayed fast asleep until they shook him awake. George fumbled groggily for the right button to silence the alarm. They kept the cabin light off and crept to the front window to begin their stakeout of Zack's cabin. It was the one nearest the bathhouse, the one he now had all to himself thanks to his prank on the zip line.

They didn't have to wait long. Within ten minutes, a light came on in Zack's window.

“Here we go,” whispered Lucas. “Y'all remember what you got to do, right?”

“Hey, I'm just back up,” whispered Alex. “You guys have the tough part.”

“Just make sure you get to his cabin and lock it up. What about you, George? You ready?”

“I guess,” said George nervously.

“You don't sound too sure.”

“Jeez, I'll do it, okay?”

“Okay.” Lucas was worried about George. He knew the younger kid could handle the talking part of the plan—it was George's idea in the first place—but somehow he doubted George would jump into the middle of a fight with Zack if it came to that.

They watched Zack step out onto his front porch and head for the bathhouse, a white towel slung over his shoulder. Before the door to the bathhouse had even closed, Lucas pushed open their cabin door and jumped silently down onto the dew-covered grass.

The rest of the camp was silent and still, lit only by the light from the bathhouse and a single dim bulb attached to a pole that also held the speaker for camp announcements. Lucas counted on having a good half hour before anyone else, including Maggie and Aaron, woke up.

He sprinted past the fire circle but stopped a few yards short of the bathhouse and crept underneath one of its open windows. Behind him, Alex was already on the porch of Zack's cabin, and he gave Lucas a nervous look before darting inside.

The water in the bathhouse shower was already running, and a moment later, Lucas heard the sound of a shower curtain scraping closed. He waited a few more seconds before opening the door enough to peek in. Just as he'd hoped, Zack's clothes were tossed in a pile on the bench outside the shower. His towel hung on a hook next to the curtain.

Lucas slipped inside the bathhouse. Masked by the sound of the shower, he had Zack's clothes hidden in seconds. But that was the easy part. A few seconds later, he was back outside, waiting for the moment of truth.

Not long after, the water shut off, and the shower curtain scraped again. The next sound was a low growl, like the sound a bear might make before it charges. Zack snarled, “I'm gonna
kill
that dumb hick!”

Lucas eased around the corner and pressed against the wall, peeking just enough to see what happened next. He heard the door on the boys' side open, and Zack appeared, wrapped in his towel and checking for signs of life from the camp. He was about to dash back to his cabin.

Lucas had to muster every ounce of courage to step out behind the bigger kid.

“Dang, Zack,” he said, knowing his voice was trembling, “I hope you're plannin' on puttin' on some clothes before you make my breakfast.”

Zack turned, fuming at the sight of Lucas. “My clothes. Now!” he seethed. “Or you're dead.”

“I don't know, Zack,” Lucas said. “Seems like if we was to start fightin' right here and now, I'd probably be screamin' awful loud. Bound to wake up just about everybody. I'd hate to think what that would look like. You know, me gettin' attacked and all by a naked you.”

Lucas grimaced to make sure the ugly image was planted firmly in Zack's head. He was already enjoying Zack's predicament despite the knot in his chest.

“Whatever,” Zack sneered. He began walking toward his cabin. “I'll get dressed and
then
kick your butt.”

“Oh, see, there's a problem there,” Lucas said calmly. “That cabin is all locked up tight by now.”

Zack's eyes kept boring into Lucas's, but his shoulders slumped a little. The bigger kid pushed his way past Lucas to search behind the bathhouse. He rummaged for his clothes inside the stacked-up canoes and kayaks, muttering a nonstop stream of curse words and describing in graphic detail the pounding he was about to give Lucas. But the more he looked, the more frantic he became. When he'd searched all of the boats, he moved back toward Lucas.

Lucas stopped him again. “Whoa,” he said, putting his hands up in defense. “Look, Zack, I guess maybe I did take this thing a little too far. You can have your clothes back.” He motioned over his shoulder toward the lake. “They're right up there.”

A towel was tied in a tight bundle and knotted to the zip line, a long way from shore, where his pack had been. Lucas had done it in the middle of the night. He'd hauled himself out in the harness this time and tied the bundle directly to the cable. Of course, they weren't Zack's clothes at all, just a couple more towels bundled inside the first. But by now Zack wasn't exactly thinking straight.

“So go get 'em, redneck,” he said.

Lucas pictured his father's pack hanging in the same spot. “Nope,” he said, the shakiness finally gone from his voice. “Your turn.”

“You're so dead,” Zack growled one last time, but he ran toward the lake holding on to the knot of his towel.

In no time, Zack was on top of the platform and stepping into the zip line harness. He didn't bother to tighten the straps, but he had to stop a couple times to keep the towel on. Once he was settled into the harness, Zack's towel was so bunched up around him that Lucas thought it resembled a giant, white diaper.

Zack reached up, grabbed the cable, and began hauling himself hand over hand out to the bundle on the line. When he was halfway there, Lucas heard a faint electric popping as a switch was thrown somewhere in the office.

George's turn
, he thought.

Suddenly the sound of the camp bell blasted through the valley.

Zack's blond head twisted around in a sudden panic. He doubled his speed out to the bundle and hoisted himself the last dozen yards. Frantically, he went to work on the knot.

The loudspeakers throughout the camp crackled to life, and the sound of George clearing his throat echoed through the camp.

“GOOOOOOOD MORNING, CAMPERS! WE'VE GOT SOME TOTALLY EXTREME ACTION FOR YOU DOWN BY THE LAKE THIS MORNING!”

Within seconds, the front porches of the cabins were filled with campers, their bleary eyes focused on the half-naked boy suspended from the zip line. Lucas checked the front porch of Zack's cabin and saw Alex leaning out to enjoy the spectacle too.

“IT'S EXTREEEME NAKED ZIP-LINING, STARRING EVERYBODY'S FAVORITE ZIP LINER, ZACK WARREN! C'MON, FOLKS. LET'S SHOW SOME APPRECIATION!”

Over the sudden burst of applause, Lucas heard one girl shriek with laughter while other kids shouted back into their cabins to roust their roommates. One hollered, “Looks like he's wearing a diaper or something!”

While Zack struggled with the knot, Lucas slipped back into the bathhouse and stood on the bench outside the showers. He lifted one of the ceiling tiles and retrieved Zack's clothes from where he'd put them a few minutes before.

Back outside, he laid the clothes out neatly across an upturned canoe and whistled to get Zack's attention. But when the older boy turned around, the knotted bundle came loose from the cable, throwing him off balance and flipping him upside down. The towels fluttered down to the water. Even worse, the one wrapped around Zack's waist came loose, and he barely snatched it before it dropped from his reach. A roar of laughter rose from the cabins.

“OH NO, CAMPERS!” George gasped dramatically into the microphone. “IT APPEARS ZACK IS IN SOME KIND OF TROUBLE!”

Lucas thought for sure the older boy would tumble into the water, but one leg was still tangled in the harness, so Zack dangled upside down, trying to cover himself with the towel at the same time. Beyond the lake, Lucas spotted Maggie and another counselor heading down the hill toward the cabins. If George saw them too, he didn't let it stop his show. Lucas heard him choke off a laugh before he regained his announcer's voice.

“WHOA!!!” he shouted. “ZACK'S PUTTING ON A GREAT SHOW FOR US TODAY, CAMPERS! IT DOESN'T GET ANY MORE EXTREEEEEME THAN THIS!”

Zack bobbed up and down on the line, frantically clawing at the strap tangled around his leg with one hand while covering his privates with the towel. He tried to kick his tangled leg free, but instead began a dizzying spin, bringing more laughter from the cabins.

Finally, still clutching the towel, he slowly descended, upside down, to the platform where he made a clumsy dismount. Free from the harness, he darted behind the lifeguard chair, momentarily trying to hide while he wrapped the towel back around himself before starting down the ladder. Halfway down, the towel slipped off once more, bringing the biggest roar yet from the campers.

“THAT'S ZACK WARREN! BEAST OF THE ZIP LINE! LET'S GIVE HIM A BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE!”

Zack hopped off the ladder, covered himself again, and stormed toward Lucas, who was pointing at the boy's clothes spread out on the canoe. Zack snatched up his clothes from the canoe and disappeared into the bathhouse. By then, Maggie and the other counselor were coming fast along the lake, but Zack was too enraged to notice them. In ten seconds, he was dressed and charging back out the bathhouse door.

Alex had jumped down from Zack's porch, and he joined Lucas.

“I guess that makes two dead idiots,” Zack hissed, taking a step toward them.

Lucas knew it was the moment of truth. “You really gonna fight us both, Zack?”

The question halted the bigger boy's charge, and Lucas kept talking.

“Look, we ain't got no cause to fight no more, Zack, but we will if that's how you want it. The way I see it, we're square for what you done to George. And I might even consider callin' it even on what you done to my pa's pack. You leave us be, and maybe we'll do the same for you.”

Zack stood for a few seconds, fists clenched and arms taut, glaring back and forth between the two younger boys. Lucas tried to keep from shaking and braced for the big kid's charge. But suddenly George was at his side too. He was red faced and breathing hard from running down from the office, but he stared Zack in the eye, looking about as mean as a pudgy, freckle-faced twelve-year-old could and letting Zack know he'd have to take on all three of them if he wanted a fight.

Zack stared hard at George, knowing that he was the most vulnerable brick in their shaky wall.

“What are
you
gonna do? Sit on me?”

“Maybe I will,” replied George, though it didn't sound too tough.

Suddenly Zack took notice of the two counselors rushing up on them.

“You should get on your knees and thank them,” he said, still steaming. “They're the only reason you're all not bleeding right now.” He turned toward his cabin.

Lucas grinned at Alex and George and called out to Zack, “Hey, don't forget breakfast.” The older boy glared over his shoulder, reversing course toward the path that led up the hill to the dining hall. Lucas watched him go, then turned back to his roommates, laughing out loud, even though the counselors were now within earshot.

“You boys want to tell us what's going on this morning?” Maggie asked sharply. “What was Zack doing up there? And how did you get in the office, George?”

Lucas started to explain, but the goofy grin on his face did little to ease Maggie's anger.

Half an hour later, all three of them were wearing aprons and shoveling out pancakes in the dining room right next to Zack.

CHAPTER 12

By the time they made it back from kitchen duty and packed what they needed for the backpacking trip, the rest of the campers were waiting around the fire ring. In Cabin One, George had made a grunting and groaning spectacle of trying to heft his overloaded pack, so Lucas and Alex sifted through it and tossed everything he didn't need onto his bunk. By the time they left the cabin, the pile included two crushed packages of mini doughnuts, an oversized plastic air mattress, enough bug spray for an army of jungle explorers, and a huge hunting knife. George had whined mightily about leaving behind all of his luxuries, especially the knife, which he claimed he would need for fending off wild animals. But when he shouldered the much lighter pack, he happily forgot his extra gear.

Lucas's own pack was freshly patched with a couple layers of duct tape—something his father had always told him to carry in the field, just like he had in the Marines.

With Aaron and Rooster in the lead, the twelve boys headed up the trail past the dining hall and into the forest. The way out of the valley that morning was not as steep as the trail they'd taken the day before, but it took twice as long to reach the same kind of high, airy views. Around midmorning, Aaron pointed out a worn, wooden Forest Service sign that marked the boundary between camp property and the wilderness area, and soon they were traversing a lofty ridge of lightning-scarred trees and ledges that opened up to vistas across a deep gorge, with another ridge and distant flatlands beyond.

Most of the hikers were carrying big packs for the first time, so the counselors gave them plenty of breaks. Still, the boys made it to the first night's campsite by early evening. The site was a broad, level swath of grass near the top of a rounded knob, and the counselors encouraged the boys to face their tents toward the west in order to see the twinkling lights of the farms and towns down in the valley after dark. With the skies clear, a few campers chose to lay their sleeping bags directly in the meadow and sleep under the stars.

Lucas and Alex finished setting up their tent and helped George with his. Unrolling his sleeping bag, the younger boy complained loudly about the air mattress he'd been forced to leave behind that morning in the cabin.

On the other side of a rock outcrop, well apart from George's tent, Zack unrolled his sleeping bag on the ground. It was a thick bag filled with fluffy goose down, with a luxurious-looking sleeping pad underneath. They had all figured he would keep his distance, and no one was complaining.

“Ah, just like I requested,” he said, “a room with a view. He directed his voice toward George's tent. “The air's a lot fresher out here too.”

They heard a shuffling from inside George's tent, followed by a tremendous blast of gas. “Smells like a good strategy, Zackster,” George yelled. “Besides, you can be my early warning system when a bear comes into camp. When I hear you getting dragged off into the woods, I'll just zip up tight and enjoy the sounds of nature.”

“Shoot,” said Zack, “any bear that comes up here is going straight for you. To a bear, you're just a big old Twinkie in that sleeping bag—soft on the outside and even softer in the middle.”

“Mmm, Twinkies,” George replied from his tent.

After dinner, the campers cleared the chunks of charred wood out of an old ring of rocks and built their own fire, sitting on logs rolled into place by campers before them. They talked while the sun dropped below a hazy horizon that seemed a thousand miles away, and the sky fired up into a wash of red and orange that dissolved slowly into the soft blue of twilight. By the time the first faint stars appeared, most of the boys were already in their tents or bundled in their sleeping bags in the grass.

Alex drifted off almost as soon as his bag was zipped, but Lucas lay awake for a long time, listening at first to the rustling sounds of the other boys in their nighttime nests, then to the soft hum of insects in the meadow and the whisper of the night breeze rippling the nylon roof of the tent.

Without the distraction of the other campers, Lucas realized he'd gone the whole day without thinking of his pa. It was the longest he'd done that since the soldiers had come, and it didn't feel right, not thinking about him. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him.
He's the only reason I'm even here, and I forgot him.
He wondered if that was how it would be, his pa slipping further and further away until he'd never remember him again, like he never even had a father. The thought left him lonely and cold. He suddenly longed to touch his pa's backpack, the place where it said
Whitlatch
, but the pack was outside the tent, and he knew the rustling would only wake Alex.

So instead he stared up at the sky through the tent door and listened to a pair of owls calling to each other across the meadow, a cold tear trickling into his ear. Later, when the sky was speckled with a billion stars and the owls had gone silent, Lucas wondered if the owls had found each other or if one had simply vanished into the night.

They ate breakfast with a bright planet hanging in the hazy pink of the eastern sky and broke camp just as the sun rose. By midmorning, they were tromping single file across a narrow ridge topped with tilted slabs of rock erupting beside the trail like the petrified fins of some giant, prehistoric dragon. Aaron explained that these were the Preacher Rocks that gave the wilderness area its name.

“Why do they call them the Preacher Rocks?” The question came from somewhere near the front of the line of backpackers.

“Well, if the story is true,” answered Aaron, “an old preacher got himself struck by lightning up here. His wife told his congregation that he came up here to get closer to God, but the pick and shovel they found next to his body told a different story. They say he told a friend that he knew for certain that the treasure was up here somewhere in these very rocks. Of course, he never found any treasure. But I suppose he did get closer to God.”

George was at the back of the line and spoke quietly, so only Lucas and Alex could hear. “Sounds like a good way to go if you ask me. Nice and quick. I wish my mom had gone like that. Her cancer just shriveled her up like a skeleton. She was pretty much dying for two years.”

Neither of the boys said anything at first. These weren't the kind of details Lucas needed to hear, and again he wondered how George could even talk like that about his mother's death.

“My dad says my mom died pretty quick,” Alex finally said.

Alex hadn't even wanted to mention his mother just two days ago, so Lucas was surprised that it had come out. Still, he didn't push Alex for details.

Instead, George did it for him. “How'd she die, Alex?”

Alex paused a few seconds before he finally answered. “Car accident. Coming home late from work one night. It was during a big storm. I guess nobody could see too good. They never did figure out if it was my mom or the other guy who crossed the line, but they hit”—Lucas heard Alex's voice catch on the last words—“head-on.”

Lucas knew what was coming next.

“What about you, Lucas?” asked George.

“What do you mean?” he replied, knowing exactly what George meant.

“It was your dad, wasn't it?” Alex asked.

“Good guess,” Lucas said without offering any details. There were secrets about his family that he wasn't about to let out.

“He was a soldier, wasn't he?” George guessed. “That's where you got the pack, right?”

“Gee, you're a real detective, ain't you, George?”

“Was it in Afghanistan?” Alex asked. “I've got an uncle over there right now.”

“Did he get shot?” George asked a little too eagerly.

“Did I even say he died over there?” Lucas responded, an edge to his voice that he hoped would end their questions. He didn't want to invite the images back into his head, but there didn't seem to be any way to keep them out, not with all the talk of dying.

“Sorry, Lucas,” said George.

“Look,” Lucas replied. “He went quick. A lot quicker'n shrivelin' up with cancer.” But then he realized how mean that sounded, so he quickly added. “Sorry, George.”

“No. No, you're right,” agreed George. “Quicker is better.”

George was trying to sound strong—they all were—but Lucas figured George's mind was fixed hard on an image of his mother becoming a skeleton for two long years. And Alex was probably thinking about his mother dying trapped in a twisted car, a rainstorm washing blood out onto the road. But these images were quickly pushed from Lucas's head by an explosion, a smoking wreck, and the screams of soldiers. And his pa running toward the screams down a dusty road. Before he knew it, he was glad Alex and George were behind him, so they couldn't see the tears streaking his face.

BOOK: Lost Cipher
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