fooling around. Mitchell snorted and chuckled, again.
“Whatever,” he said, and swiped the pages away from Mark. He walked over to one of the stalls saying, “I’ll read it in here.”
“You will read it right here, where I can see you!” commanded Mark.
Whoa. If Mitchell wasn’t sure about how important those pages were to Mark, he sure was now. Mark was not going to allow Andy Mitchell to control this situation any more than he had to. He already had too much control as it was. If Mitchell didn’t do exactly as he said, Mark was ready to grab the pages away and take his chances with the police.
Mitchell chose to back off and gave another signature snort.
“All right, be cool,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll read ‘em wherever you want.”
Mitchell then walked to the far wall, turned his back to it, and slid down to the floor. With one last snort, he began to read the journal.
Mark didn’t move. He stood by the sinks, staring at Mitchell. This was killing him. With each passing second he felt as if he were betraying Bobby a little bit more.
Mitchell took forever to read the journal. He wasn’t exactly a rocket scientist and he constantly had to ask Mark the meanings of words. Mark would roll his eyes and explain to him what words like “submerge” and “erosion” meant. Worse, when Mitchell got to words that were specific to Cloral like vators or pecks, his total cluelessness made Mark want to scream. Mark felt bad for any teacher who was saddled with the likes of Andy Mitchell. He wondered who had the patience to teach him how to tie his shoelaces.
Finally, mercifully, Mitchell finished the journal and looked up to Mark. This was the critical moment. Mitchell’s first reaction was going to tell Mark how much trouble he was going to cause from here on in. Mitchell stared at Mark for a moment, as if trying to pull his thoughts together. Mark figured that pulling those slim thoughts together couldn’t take more than a nanosecond. It didn’t. Mitchell snorted and laughed again.
“Who are you kidding?” he said with a sneer. “You made this up!”
Mark didn’t react. He just stared at Mitchell. The truth was, he didn’t care if Mitchell believed the journals were real or not. But Mark realized instantly that not reacting was the exact wrong move. He saw it in Mitchell’s eyes. Mark realized that if he had argued with Mitchell and said something like “I didn’t make it up! It’s all true! I swear!” then Mitchell would have figured he was just some loser geek with a wild imagination and that would have been the end of it. But he didn’t. By not arguing, he had done the exact opposite. His silence convinced Mitchell that everything in the journalwastrue. Mark wished he had a second chance to react, but it was too late.
Mitchell began to stand up. Before he got his balance, Mark swiped the journal pages out of his hand.
“Easy!” complained Mitchell.
“Are we done now?” asked Mark as he rolled up the journal.
“Done?” laughed Mitchell. “We’re just starting! I want to read the other journals. The ones from that Denduroni place.”
“Denduron. I can’t let you — “
“And I want to read the journal that showed up here yesterday. I’m not stupid, Dimond. I saw it. It was brown, not green like this one. You already got another delivery from Pendragon and I want to see it.”
“N-No way! I agreed to let you read the rest of — “
Mitchell lunged at Mark, grabbed him by the shirt, spun him around, and slammed him against the hard tile wall of the bathroom. He knocked the air out of his lungs and Mark nearly passed out. Mitchell wouldn’t let him go though. He stuck his nose right in Mark’s face and hissed, “Stop tellin’ me what to do, you little freak. You wanna mess with me? I’ll hit you so hard you’ll be eatin’ and fartin’ out of the same hole.”
Mark didn’t believe that was possible, but he didn’t want to risk it.
“Now listen to me. Do not tell Courtney Chetwynde I know about this. If you do, I’ll go right to the police and fry both of your butts. Understand?”
“But — “
Mitchell slammed Mark against the wall again. This time Mark hit his head on the tiles.,
“Understand?”
“Yeah, I understand.”
“And I want to see the rest of them journals. We are sitting on a very big thing here. Someday we are gonna be famous, thanks to that weez Pendragon.”
Mark was horrified. Mitchell, the village idiot, was already planning on how to release the journals to the world. This could not get worse.
“I want to see another one of them journals,” he commanded, then threw Mark out of the way, and strode toward the bathroom door.
With one final snort, he then kicked the door open and left.
Mark sunk down to the floor, hurting in more ways than one. He had messed up worse than he could imagine. Mitchell now had complete control over him. Worse, if he told Courtney about it then Mitchell would make sure that the police knew everything. There was no one he could go to for help. He wanted to handle this on his own, but he was doing a truly bad job. He had let Bobby down, he had let Courtney down, and he had let himself down.
And then, just to add to his confusion, the ring on his finger started to twitch. In the past this had always been a moment of excitement because it meant he was going to hear from his best friend again. But now the idea of another journal arriving meant that it was going to be one more journal he would have to share with Andy Mitchell. One more journal that he would have to explain to the dimwit. One more journal that marked his total failure as a friend.
Mark took off the ring and put it on the floor. He then rolled over and turned his back to it. He knew what was going to happen. He didn’t have to see. He closed his eyes and softly whispered, “I’m sorry, Bobby. I’m going to fix everything, I swear.”
When he turned back around, the ring was lying right here he had left it. Next to it was another journal.
ZADAA
Ihave seen things that I never thought possible and most of it isn’t good.
Since I wrote you last, things here have been pushed to the hairy edge of catastrophe and I feel as if it’s up to me to bring it back. The worst part is I don’t know how. Not a clue. I’m frustrated, freaked out, and most of all… scared. Definitely scared. Not only for me, but for the whole territory of Cloral. Whoever had the bright idea of making me a Traveler should be re-thinking that decision right about now. Did I mention how scared I was?
I’m writing this journal from a place that is both wondrous and frightening. As I think back on the events that led me here, I can’t help but wonder where it’s going to end. Every time I think I’ve got a handle on things, something new happens that turns me upside down. I thought I couldn’t be surprised anymore, but I am. I guess that’s why they call it surprise.
Once again we are on the verge of a battle. I don’t want to sound overly dramatic or anything, but if things go south, this may be the last journal I write. I’m not trying to freak you out but, well, okay maybe I’m trying to freak you out a little. Why not? The whole point of writing this is for you to know what I’m going through, right?
I’m getting way ahead of myself. There’s a lot to write about and I don’t have a ton of time. I finished the last journal where Spader and I had hit the flume for Zadaa. There wasn’t anything unusual about the trip, except for the fact I wasn’t alone this time. Spader and I flew side by side. This was Spader’s first flume ride and I wasn’t sure how he would react. He was pretty tense at first, as you can imagine, but once I assured him everything was fine and that he could enjoy the ride, he simply looked forward and folded his arms. We flew along like that for a few minutes and I could tell he was starting to relax. He had been through a lot hairier situations than this under the sea. Maybe not as bizarre as this, but definitely not as hairy.
“What is this, Pendragon?” he finally asked. I could tell he was working really hard to stay calm.
“It’s called a flume,” I answered. “It’s taking us to meet a friend of mine.”
“And where is that?” he asked. “Your home habitat?”
“No, it’s a place called Zadaa. She’ll help me explain to you what’s going on.”
