Speed Times Five (6 page)

“That must be Bennett,” Kelly Hawk said, yawning. She rose from her spot near the fire and stretched. “He likes to keep tabs on his racers, but he's not much for sleeping under the stars.”

Sure enough, as Joe and Frank roused themselves, they saw Vince Bennett working his way through the camp—camera crew in tow—talking to the remaining racers.

“Ugh,” Joe said. “I'm in no mood to be on TV this morning.”

“Me neither,” Frank said, stretching a kink out of his neck. “Let's go check the boats before we eat.”

“Good idea.”

The brothers packed away their blankets and headed to the riverbank, where the kayaks lay beached. They found Michael Lupin crouched over his boat, working on something in the semidarkness.

“Hey, Lupin,” Joe said. “Why didn't you stop to help us yesterday?”

Lupin stood and scowled at the brothers. “This is a
race,
” he said. “I'm in it to win, not to help other competitors.”

“There's also a fair play and safety rule,” Frank said. “Not to mention common courtesy.”

“There's also a rule about interfering with other racers and teams,” Lupin replied. “And I heard that you two pressed your luck on that point. Don't expect me to be disqualified, even if
you
want to be.”

“Who said we were going to be disqualified?” Joe asked, his eyes narrowing with anger.

“Everyone in camp knows it,” Lupin said. “Except maybe you two. If you're smart, you'll keep to yourselves from now on—assuming Bennett doesn't bounce you out before we start today.” He walked away but called back, “See you at the starting line—maybe.”

Joe stepped forward, fists clenched, but Frank said, “Let it go, Joe. He's not worth it.”

“That guy really steams me,” Joe said. “I see why he got voted off that TV show.”

“Let's check our gear and then get our start times for the day,” Frank said.

The brothers checked out the kayaks and stowed their gear inside them. Then they hiked up the bank toward the officials' tent.

Just before they reached it, though, someone called, “Hey, you two, stop!”

6 Not Just Another Walk in the Woods

The Hardys spun and saw a man walking toward them out of the darkness. Though he didn't have his usual camera crew in tow, the brothers quickly recognized Vince Bennett, the race organizer.

“I've been looking for you Hardy boys,” Bennett said.

“What can we do for you, Mr. Bennett?” Frank asked.

“I heard what you did yesterday,” Bennett said. “You know, of course, that your actions were not strictly according to race rules.”

“Here it comes,” Joe whispered apprehensively.

“However,” Bennett continued, “your actions were in the spirit of fair sportsmanship and may very well have saved Ms. Collins's life. Therefore, I commend you. This is the kind of thing the
sponsors and I want people to remember when they think of the Speed Times Five Adventure Race. If you're willing, my camera crew would like to interview you on the subject.”

“We're not big on publicity,” Frank said.

“We did what we did because it was the right thing to do,” Joe added.

Bennett nodded his understanding. “Yeah. Okay. I thought you might say something like that. If you change your minds, though, just let me know.”

“We will,” Frank said.

“On to other business, then,” Bennett said. “I was talking to your support crew last night, Jamal and . . .” He paused, trying to recall the name.

“Chet,” Joe said.

“Right, Chester,” Bennett continued. “They tell me that you're good at spotting trouble and that you've worked with law enforcement in the past. Now, I don't want to say that I'm concerned about the race, but something feels a bit funny to me. I could definitely use a few more eyes down at ground level. You'd be surprised what you can miss from a helicopter, or even from our course cameras.”

“And you want us to do what?” Frank asked.

“Just keep an eye on things,” Bennett said. “Give me a ring on the emergency phones if you see anything funny going on. That way my people can get right on it.”

“We can do that,” Joe said.

Bennett grinned. “Great. I appreciate it. Good luck in the race. And remember, play fair and stay safe.”

“Don't worry, we will,” Frank said.

The brothers finished their trek to the officials' tent and got their morning start times. Then they ate breakfast and prepared to go.

Georges Clemenceau was first into the river that morning, followed by Kelly Hawk, and then Victoria Clemenceau and a few other top racers. Because he'd passed them the previous day, Michael Lupin started ahead of the brothers, as did Quentin Curtis. After the Hardys came Maggie Collins, Robert Frid, Roger Baldwin, and the rest of the pack.

The morning sky shone deep blue over the racers as they navigated the treacherous white water. As midday approached, the Hardys passed several half-sunken boats with soggy racers clinging to them. No one seemed to be in any danger, though, and race officials were already on the scene.

The brothers beached at the final river checkpoint just before noon. Chet and Jamal met them by the landing site and resupplied the Hardys with provisions for the next part of the journey. Joe and Frank completed their checkpoint rituals quickly. They changed into dry shoes, strapped packs on their backs, and hiked off into the forest.

They'd made good time during the morning and had drawn closer to the front of the pack. Chet and
Jamal told them that Hawk and the Clemenceaus were still among the race leaders, with Michael Lupin close behind. Roger Baldwin had made up time, too, and zipped through the checkpoint. He entered the woods just before the Hardys.

“With his triathlon training, he'll be really tough in this phase and the next,” Frank said.

“The hiking and bike racing are strong points for the Clemenceaus, too,” Joe replied. “If we want to have any kind of decent ranking at the end, we'll need to keep close to all of them.”

The course cut through the forest over beautiful rolling hills. The trail was clearly marked with a good, firm dirt surface. Still, the brothers had a long trek ahead of them to the evening's checkpoint.

The hike claimed its share of victims, too. They passed a woman with a sprained ankle and, later, a man who'd apparently stumbled into a nest of wasps. Both contestants were talking with race officials via their emergency phones, and neither seemed to be in serious distress.

The Hardys caught up with Quentin Curtis early in the afternoon. He was jogging fairly slowly and waved as the brothers passed him by.

“He doesn't look too winded,” Frank said.

“Maybe he's waiting for his friends,” Joe replied as he and Frank jogged over the next hill.

“I guess the woods can be dangerous if you're running alone,” Frank said.

As if to prove his words, twenty minutes later the brothers topped a rise and nearly ran into a bull
moose. The huge animal walked slowly beside the trail, browsing new green shoots off the branches within its reach. The animal's dark eyes spotted the brothers and its big nostrils flared.

Frank and Joe stopped dead in their tracks. The moose stood only a few feet from the trail, effectively blocking their path.

“Can we leave the trail and cut around it?” Joe whispered.

“According to the rules, yes,” Frank whispered back. “We'll lose some time, though.”

“I'd rather lose some time than try to face down a moose,” Joe replied. “Let's back up and cut over to the right.”

“Check.”

Carefully edging backward the brothers soon reached the top of the ridge. The moose eyed them as they went but kept browsing the foliage.

Keeping the animal just in sight, the brothers left the trail and followed the ridge line for several hundred yards. Then they cut back down into the small moraine, paralleling the marked path.

Their scout training stood the Hardys in good stead as they moved through the woods. They soon cut back to the main trail, well past where they'd seen the moose.

“Whew!” Joe sighed. “I guess we'll have to be noisier as we go—give the local fauna plenty of warning that we're coming.”

“Good idea,” Frank said. “I'd rather keep to the main trail if we can. It may be legal to leave the
path, but they've designed the course so that any deviation will cost the contestants time.”

“Well, if the moose stays there, he'll hold up all the other racers, too,” Joe said.

Frank nodded as he jogged. “I wonder if anyone in front of us had to leave the trail.”

“I was too busy watching the moose to look for other contestants,” Joe replied.

“Me, too. We should call the moose hazard in, though.”

“Good idea,” Joe replied. He pulled out his emergency radiophone and relayed the information about the moose to the race control center. A moment later both their radios flared to life with a warning broadcast to all contestants.

“There we go helping the competition again,” Frank said.

Joe laughed. “Yeah. Maybe Michael Lupin will want us kicked out because of it.”

“That guy would be better off if he channeled more of his aggression into running,” said Frank.

“I'd say he's doing pretty well on that,” Joe countered. “We haven't passed him yet.”

“Or Baldwin, either,” Frank said. “Come on, let's push it a bit to see if we can catch someone.”

As the afternoon wore on, the terrain grew more difficult, turning from rolling wooded hills into rocky valleys and steep ridges. They passed several other contestants, but saw no sign of Baldwin, Lupin, or the leaders.

“Tonight's checkpoint can't be far,” Frank said as the sun sank toward the western horizon.

“Good thing, too,” Joe replied. “I'm beat. These rocky trails are murder on the knees.”

“Just wait until the real climbing starts tomorrow,” Frank said.

“Bring it on,” Joe said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Less than half an hour later they jogged into the midleg checkpoint. They visited the officials' tent and registered their times.

“How are we doing?” Frank asked.

“Pretty well,” an official with the nametag Sullivan said. “Only about a dozen in front of you.”

“Any more dropouts?” Joe asked.

“A couple of sprained ankles in the group ahead of you,” Sullivan said, “and three more behind. Plus, one got skunked. The rest of you will want to give him a wide berth during the rest of the race. We don't have enough water to wash him down properly.”

“Maybe the Clemenceaus brought some tomato juice,” Joe offered with a smile.

Sullivan and the brothers laughed.

The Hardys quenched their thirst from the race officials' fresh water supply and then refilled their canteens. The contestants ahead of them had already started a big campfire in a clearing, and a number of racers sat gathered around it. Kelly Hawk, Victoria Clemenceau, and Michael Lupin
sat by the fireside. As the Hardys settled in and ate some food from their packs, Roger Baldwin jogged up from the officials' tent. He grunted an acknowledgment to the other racers, then took a place by the fire and ate.

“I don't remember passing him,” Joe whispered to Frank.

“We didn't pass Georges Clemenceau or Quentin Curtis, either,” Frank replied, “but they're not here. Maybe we missed them during our moose detour.”

“Could be,” Joe said. “We weren't in the woods that long, but I suppose they could have taken their own detours.”

“Or maybe they're just in some other part of the camp,” Frank said. He smiled. “Maybe Georges is the one who got skunked.”

Joe chuckled, but both he and Frank noticed that Victoria kept glancing back toward the officials' tent. As the sun sank, she got up and began to pace back and forth at the edge of the camp.

Joe leaned over to Kelly Hawk. “Where's Georges?” he asked.

Kelly shrugged. “Victoria came in by herself,” she said. “I haven't seen Georges. I guess they got separated in the woods.”

Many other racers straggled in as the evening drew on. Quentin Curtis, Maggie Collins, and Robert Frid arrived within a short distance of each other. Still, there was no sign of Georges Clemenceau.

“If he was in trouble,” Lupin said, “he'd use the radio.”

“Unless he couldn't,” Maggie Collins added.

As darkness covered the small camp, Victoria's pacing became more frantic. The stars peeked out in the clear, black sky overhead and nocturnal animals began their ritual songs. All the other contestants had been accounted for, and even the race officials seemed a bit worried.

Suddenly, without warning, Victoria Clemenceau sprinted off into the darkened woods. Her cries echoed through the night-shrouded trees.

“Georges! Georges! Where are you?”

7 A Rock and a Hard Place

“That's a stupid thing to do,” Michael Lupin said, watching Victoria run into the woods. “There's no way she can find her brother without a light. She'll be lucky if she doesn't get totally lost.”

As Victoria disappeared into the darkness, Frank and Joe grabbed the flashlights out of their backpacks and dashed after her. It didn't take them long to find her. She'd tripped over a tree limb near the edge of the woods and lay sprawled on a carpet of leaves.

Joe helped her to her feet. “Take it easy,” he said. “It won't help your brother for you to go running into the woods.”

“We'll get on the camp radio,” Frank said. “Start a systematic search for him.”

“I never should have gone ahead of him,” Victoria said, rubbing her ankle. “We should have stuck together, even if it reduced our chances of winning.”

“Don't blame yourself,” Joe said. “We'll find your brother.”