Armageddon by Patterson James & Grabenstein Chris

Author:Patterson, James & Grabenstein, Chris [Patterson, James & Grabenstein, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Adventure, Childrens
ISBN: 9780316215145
Goodreads: 13521497
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 43

“IF ABBADON WAS thinking about bringing the fight to us tonight,” Willy said as we headed back to the farmhouse, “I’m afraid he’ll have to change his plans!”

“Absolutely,” said Emma.

“What kind of name is that, anyway?” asked Dana. “ ‘Abbadon.’ It sounds like he’s some kind of Swedish pop group. Maybe he’s a fan. Probably knows all the words to ‘Mamma Mia.’ ”

“That song has words?” said Joe. “I mean other than ‘mamma’ and ‘mia’?”

“Hey, look,” Willy said, bending down to examine a shadowy clump. “A whole pile of horseshoes.”

“Let’s play!” said Emma. “Come on! We’ve all been so keyed up these last couple of days. We need to blow off a little steam.”

“I agree,” I said. “We deserve a little R and R.”

“Okay, see that weather vane on top of the horse barn?” said Willy, pointing to the moonlit silhouette a half mile away. “The pole holding it up is our target.”

“Me and Willy against you three!” Dana said, scooting over to latch on to Willy’s arm.

“No way,” said Willy.

“What?” said Dana. She sounded kind of like an eighth grader who’d just heard from her girlfriend that her boyfriend had talked to some guy who said that this other guy heard some guy in the locker room say Willy didn’t like Dana anymore.

“Daniel’s too good,” Willy explained. “It should be all four of us against him.”

“Yeah,” Joe and Emma agreed as they sidled up alongside Willy and Dana.

“Fine,” I said with a grin. “Bring it on.”

“Alpar Nokian rules?” asked Willy.

“Definitely.”

“Okay,” said Emma, “that means zero points for leaners.”

“And zero points for being the closest to the pole,” added Joe.

“And, of course,” said Dana, “you have to turn your back to the target and toss the horseshoe over your shoulder.”

“While hopping up and down on your nondominant foot,” added Emma.

We all nodded. On Alpar Nok, instead of horseshoes, the contestants hurled giant metal booties worn by domesticated elephants across great distances at flaming torches planted in the turf. If you knocked out the fire by flinging your bootie straight through the flame, you earned ten points. If you snuffed it out by landing your bootie upside down on top of the flame, you got a Douser, worth fifty points (not to mention first dibs on the deviled eggs).

“We go first!” said Joe.

“Fire away,” I said.

I heard the familiar whir and whistle of wobbly steel flying through the air. It was soon followed by the clank of a spinning horseshoe grabbing hold of a metal rod 30 feet up and 2,640 feet away.

And then, in very rapid succession, I heard that clank three more times.

“Four ringers!” shouted Dana. “How are you going to beat that, Daniel?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, turning my back to the barn, hopping up on my left foot. “Maybe like this?”

I flicked my horseshoe backward, right over the top of my head.

Then I spun around to watch it spiral and soar across the sky until it wrapped itself around the torso of the flying-horse ornament poised on top of the weather vane.

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