Wild Ride Read online

  Text copyright © 2005 by Matt Christopher Royalties, Inc. Illustrations copyright © 2005 by Michael Koelsch

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Little, Brown and Company

  Time Warner Book Group

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue

  New York, NY 10017

  Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  First eBook Edition: July 2007

  The Little, Brown and Company Publishing name and logo is a trademark of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Matt Christopher® is a registered trademark of Catherine M. Christopher.

  ISBN: 978-0-316-02595-9

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jonas Malloy blew on his icy fingertips and rubbed his hands together. Despite the bright April-morning sunshine pouring through a window, it was cold inside the Malloys’ garage. But Jonas didn’t care. He was busy cleaning his mountain bike to get it ready for the first ride of the season.

  “ ’Bout time you came out of hibernation,” he said to his bike as he squatted down next to it. Arranged on the floor beside him were some clean rags, a pair of rubber gloves, a small bottle of bike-chain lubricant, and a dry paintbrush. He selected the brush first. Starting at one end, he used it to flick a winter’s worth of dust and dirt from the frame and wheels.

  “Want to tackle my bike next?”

  Jonas looked over his shoulder. His father stood in the doorway, a big grin on his face.

  Jonas jerked a thumb to where his dad’s bike leaned against the wall. “Already took care of it. Anything to get us out on the trails sooner!”

  Mr. Malloy’s grin faded. “Jonas, I know you’re anxious to do some biking. But even though you and the bikes are ready, the trails might not be. You know my rule: Until the trails are safe, no riding.”

  Jonas spun the bike’s back wheel. “I know,” he mumbled.

  “Course, that doesn’t mean we can’t ride to the trails,” his father continued with a smile. “How about we ride over after lunch and take a hike up the mountain to check things out?”

  Jonas’s eyes lit up. “That’d be great!” he replied. “Thanks, Dad.” He held up the paintbrush. “Meantime, I’ll keep cleaning my bike.”

  Mr. Malloy nodded and returned to the house. Jonas turned his attention back to his bike. He went over every inch of it with the brush. Then he rubbed it all over with a dry rag to remove any last specks of dirt the brush had missed.

  “Now for the chain,” he said. He flipped the bike over and balanced it on its handlebars and seat. After pulling on a pair of rubber gloves, he picked up another soft, clean cloth and draped it over a section of chain. Holding the cloth-covered chain with one hand, he turned the pedals with the other to make the chain move. After a few turns, the cloth had cleaned the outside of the entire chain.

  Then he picked up the bottle of lubricant. Working slowly and carefully, he applied the thick, black liquid to each link. He waited a few minutes, then once again ran the chain through the cloth. When he was done, the chain was clean and freshly oiled.

  Jonas flipped the bike over, leaned it against the garage wall, and stood back to admire his work. The bike shone like new. As he began to pick up his cleaning supplies, he couldn’t help but grin.

  I can hardly wait to get it muddy again!

  CHAPTER TWO

  After lunch, Jonas and his father set off for the mountain.

  “Your bike working okay?” Mr. Malloy asked as they rode along.

  “Running as smooth as a fruit smoothie!” Jonas joked.

  “Mine, too. Thanks for getting it ready.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they rode into a parking lot at the base of a small mountain. On the other side of the mountain was the cleared-off slope where Jonas and his friends went snowboarding during the winter. On this side of the mountain, trails had been cut in and around the trees and boulders. Some trails were just for hikers. Others were marked for mountain bikers. Every so often the two types of trails intersected. These intersections were marked clearly so hikers and bikers could be on the lookout and avoid collisions.

  “Well,” Mr. Malloy said, “let’s go take a look.” He locked up his bike, shouldered a backpack, and started up a hiking trail. Jonas was right behind him.

  It was only the first week of April. A few trees had leaf buds on them, but most were bare. On the ground, unseen creatures scurried through beds of old leaves. Jonas heard a bird call from above and craned his neck to look for it.

  Whump!

  “Oof!” Mr. Malloy grunted.

  “Sorry, Dad!” Mr. Malloy had stopped suddenly, and Jonas had walked smack into him.

  “No problem,” Mr. Malloy said. “Or, actually, I should say small problem. Look up ahead.”

  The trail in front of them was completely blocked by a fallen tree. Branches stuck up every which way, making it impossible to climb over the trunk.

  “We’ll have to go around,” Mr. Malloy said. “Follow me.”

  They stepped off the path and began to pick their way carefully through a tangle of old brush. Prickers grabbed at Jonas’s pants, forcing him to stop and pull them free. Two steps later, his foot sank into a mire of swampy mud. There was a wet sucking sound when he yanked it out. Mr. Malloy wasn’t having an easy time of it, either. “Drat!” he muttered as he tripped over a tree root.

  Finally, they made it around the fallen tree and back to the trail. But even then it was slow going. Winter had taken its toll, filling the path with tree branches. Snowmelt had left huge puddles of water and mud in the hollows. They even came across a pile of rocks from a rock slide. After twenty minutes, Mr. Malloy took off the backpack and leaned against a boulder.

  “Whew!” he said. “This trail is in rough shape!” He handed Jonas a water bottle, then took a swig from his own. “And I’ll bet the other trails are just as bad.”

  Jonas almost choked mid-swallow. He had a sneaking suspicion that his dad was about to say something he didn’t want to hear. He was right.

  “Jonas, I’m afraid that until these trails are cleared, there’ll be no biking. Sorry, pal.” He stood up, shouldered the pack again, and began to head back down the trail.

  Jonas knew his father was only thinking about his safety. And he knew it would be risky to bike in such conditions. But still, as he followed his father down the mountain and to their bikes, disappointment ran through his veins.

  If only there were something I could do, he thought as they rode out of the lot.

  They were halfway home when he realized there was something he could do.

  “Dad!” he yelled. “Turn around! Quick!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Mr. Malloy braked sharply. “What is it? Are you hurt?”

  “No,” Jonas replied. “We need to go to the Community Center so I can talk to Alison. Please?”

  The Community Center ran the local skatepark in the spring, summer, and fall, and then the slope in the winter. Alison Lee, the teenager who oversaw both the skat
epark and the slope, was so into extreme sports that Jonas was sure she’d be willing to help him.

  Five minutes later, they pulled up in front of the center. Jonas hurried inside, followed closely by his father. He spotted Alison behind the front desk.

  “Yo, Malloys, what’s up?” Alison greeted them.

  Jonas told her about the impassable trails. “So what I was hoping,” he finished, “was that you’d help me figure out a way to get the trails ready for biking. And hiking, too, of course,” he added.

  Alison drummed her fingers on the desktop. “Funny you should ask. I’ve been planning to organize a clean-up day for those trails. From what you’ve said, it sounds like we’re going to need a big crew.”

  Her eyes flicked toward a wall calendar. “Hmm. The skatepark opens next Saturday. I’ll be too busy to do anything that day” — Jonas’s heart started to sink — “so how about the day after?”

  Jonas’s heart leapt up again.

  “Tell you what,” Alison said, “if you find enough people willing to put in a full day of hard work next Sunday, I’ll be there to show them what needs to be done. Just make sure everyone wears pants and long sleeves and has a pair of heavy-duty work gloves. Think you can do that?”

  “Absolutely!” Jonas cried. “Thanks, Alison!”

  She waved a hand. “No sweat, kid. In the meantime, I’ll post a sign warning people to stay off the trails.”

  The minute Jonas got home, he started calling his friends.

  “X, ol’ buddy, ol’ friend, ol’ pal!” he said when Xavier “X” McSweeney answered his phone.

  “Uh, oh,” X replied. “What’s with the buddy-friend-pal stuff? You must want something.”

  Jonas filled him in. X readily agreed to help with the cleanup.

  “I’ll ask my mom, too. She loves all that outdoorsy stuff.”

  “Excellent! And call Savannah and Charlie, would you?” Jonas said. Their friends Savannah Smith and Charlie Abbott were also into extreme sports. “I’ll call Bizz and Mark.”

  Belicia “Bizz” Juarez and Mark Goldstein promised to lend a hand that Sunday. Both said they’d ask their parents to join them. Jonas left a message at the Community Center telling Alison he’d rounded up a crew. He was still smiling when he hung up the phone.

  Now if I can just put mountain biking out of my mind for the next week, I’ll be all set!

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Luckily, the following week was a busy one for Jonas. Besides going to school every day and doing his homework at night, he had to get his inline skates and skateboard ready for the grand reopening of the skatepark on Saturday.

  Good thing I already took care of my bike! he thought as he tightened the trucks on his board with a wrench.

  Saturday morning was bright and sunny. Jonas hurried through breakfast, filled a water bottle, grabbed some snacks, then found his father to tell him he was heading for the skatepark.

  Mr. Malloy swiveled around in his office chair. “I’ll be out most of the day. Can you fix your own lunch?” When Jonas nodded, he added, “Oh, I’m going to leave you a list of chores to do when you get back. I’ll be home by three. Have them done by then, okay?”

  “You bet!”

  In the garage, Jonas debated whether to skate or board to the park. When a shaft of sunlight glinted off his bike, however, he decided to ride instead.

  “I should take it for another test drive to be absolutely, positively certain it’s all in order,” he said to himself. He shoved his water bottle into its carrier on the bike’s frame and put his inline skates and safety gear into his backpack.

  The pavement zipped along beneath him as his legs pumped the pedals. At the end of his street, he gave the hand brakes a gentle squeeze. To his left was the road that would take him to the skatepark. If he went right, he’d be on the road to the mountain trails.

  He looked up the right side of the street wistfully. Soon, he reminded himself, and turned toward the skatepark.

  When he arrived, a small crowd had gathered at the front entrance. Jonas was locking up his bike when a hand slapped him on the back.

  “Your ride is looking primo, Jo!” X said, eyeing the bike. “Maybe a little cleaner than I’m used to seeing it, though.”

  Jonas grinned. “No kidding. If that bike doesn’t see mud soon, it’s going to go crazy!”

  Mark, Bizz, and Charlie appeared a moment later. Charlie and Bizz were wearing their inlines. Mark was carrying his and rubbing his elbow.

  “Why don’t you put those on?” X asked, pointing to his skates.

  “I did have them on,” Mark admitted. “But I took a little spill, so I figured I had better take them off until I got here.”

  “Where’d you fall?” Bizz wanted to know.

  Mark looked sheepish. “In my driveway. Guess I’m a little rusty.”

  X threw an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry, it’ll all come back to you. Once you know how, inline skating is as easy as falling off a log!”

  Mark winced. “Did you have to mention ‘falling’?” Their laughter was interrupted by the sound of Alison’s voice. “Okay, everybody, this is it. The moment you’ve been waiting all winter for!” She unlocked the skatepark gate and swung the door wide open. “Let the extreme sports of spring begin!”

  Jonas and the others gave a whoop. With one last glance at his bike to make sure it was locked tight, he made his way to a bench and took his pads and skates out of his backpack. He quickly traded his sneakers for his inlines, strapped the pads over his elbows and knees, and pulled on his safety gloves. He could hardly wait to hit the ramps and rails!

  He stood up and started forward. Suddenly, a hand grabbed him from behind and pulled him back.

  “And just where do you think you’re going?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jonas whipped around. Bizz was holding his shoulder with one hand. In the other were two hockey sticks.

  “Where do you think I’m going?” Jonas pointed to the ramps. “It’s time for some action!”

  Bizz handed him the stick. “It’s time for action, all right — roller-hockey action! You do have your mouth guard, right?” Jonas nodded. “Well, then, come on! Everybody’s waiting!”

  X, Charlie, Mark, and Savannah were already at the roller-hockey rink. After Bizz and Jonas joined them, they chose sides for a three-on-three contest, took up positions, and started the game. They were no more than five minutes into it, however, when a familiar voice stopped them.

  “Well, if it isn’t the loo-oo-sers!” drawled a boy named Frank. He was straddling a mountain bike. Behind him stood three other boys, also on bikes. “What are you doing on my rink?”

  Last fall, Frank and his team had challenged Jonas and his friends to a game of roller hockey. Both teams had agreed that the winners would have the right to use the rink whenever they wanted, regardless of who was there first. Frank’s team had won the game — and now they could kick Jonas and his friends off at any time.

  “C’mon, guys, let’s get out of here,” Jonas muttered. He started to leave.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, no need to rush!” Frank said. “I’m not quite ready to jump on the rink.” With a smirk, he hopped off his bike, hooked a chain through a link in the fence, and snapped a bike lock shut. “There! Okay, now I’m ready! Bye-bye, loo-oo-sers!”

  Jonas felt frustration well up inside of him. But he tried not to let it show as he skated past Frank and his friends.

  “Well, guess hockey’s out for today,” Mark said. “How about the ramps?” Jonas nodded, but the others headed for the rails. When Jonas saw the line of kids waiting for their turn on the half-pipe, he wished he’d gone to the rails, too.

  The line moved slowly, but Jonas finally got his turn. Heart beating fast with anticipation, he steadied himself on the edge of the deck, then dropped down into the curve of the half-pipe. Wind rushed past his ears as he swooped down one side, did a one-eighty turn, and zipped up the other side. He went back and forth a few times, t
hen his turn was over.

  Mark finished a moment later. “Wanna go again?” he asked.

  Jonas shook his head. He loved the half-pipe, but the thought of waiting another twenty minutes for less than a minute of action didn’t seem that appealing. “I’m taking a snack break,” he said.

  Mark shrugged and lined up for another turn. Jonas skated to a bench and took out a pack of cookies. Suddenly, a fat raindrop landed on his nose. A moment later, the skies opened up and it began to pour.

  Jonas shoved the last cookie into his mouth and unsnapped his inlines. The heavy rain made it hard for him to put on his sneakers, and by the time he got the second one tied, the park was practically empty. As he got up to leave, he spied Charlie and X skating toward the park exit.

  “Wait!” Jonas called, hurrying after them. But they had already disappeared into the pounding rain.

  “It’s just a little rainstorm!” Jonas yelled. “Come back!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Rats!”

  It had taken Jonas another five minutes to get to his bike, unlock it, and adjust the pack on his back. Now, as he navigated through the rain, wet spray shot up from the back wheel, dousing the seat of his pants. He was sure he’d be soaked through by the time he reached home. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the storm cleared up, and the sun was peeking out by the time he reached his neighborhood.

  Figures, Jonas thought. Stupid April showers. They stick around just long enough to turn everything to mud.

  He turned a corner. The mountain had been to his left most of the ride home. Now it was directly in front of him. Jonas slowed to a stop.

  Not that mud’s always a bad thing, he thought, gazing up. He stared at the mountain for a moment, thinking. Then he checked his watch. It was twenty minutes to twelve.

  Plenty of time for a quick ride over to the mountain. He pushed down on his pedals. In fact, I probably should go to make sure the rain didn’t wash away the sign Alison put up. He pedaled faster.