EVERYTHING TURNED INTO TOTAL CHAOS.
Justin watched as the Rottweiler caught their scent and barked frantically up in their direction. Stack spun around in circles, waving a gun in the air. Emilio ran around the truck and grabbed a shotgun. Justin’s dad peered through the windshield of the truck, looking for some sign of what was happening.
Only Tyler was calm, which made sense—he was a trained soldier. He stood at the center of the clearing, slowly scanning the forest.
“Get ’em, Draco!” Tyler commanded the dog. The Rottweiler shot out of the clearing, straight up the hill. His muscles flexed and pumped as he powered his massive bulk through the underbrush. He looked like a tank, barreling right for Justin, Chuy, and Max—a tank with a really scary look in his eyes.
Justin took a deep breath, trying to slow down his heart rate. He needed to stay level-headed. He crouched down next to Max, who stood at the edge of the drop-off, growling. Max’s body was tensed up, and his ears were flattened against his head. He was preparing for battle.
“You ready for round two?” Justin whispered to him. Max let out a little snarl in response.
Just at that moment, the Rottweiler leaped over the top of the ridge and froze, his legs splayed out in a fighting stance, growling deeply at Max.
“Dude,” Chuy said, “that is one scary mutt.”
All the fur on Max’s back stood on end. The dogs circled each other slowly, never taking their eyes off each other.
“Max . . .” Justin began. He hated to see his dog fight, but he knew there was no way around it. Max was trained for this—he could win this battle. And Max was their only hope of escaping the aggressive beast that could kill Justin or Chuy with one bite to the neck.
Suddenly, Draco sprang forward, lunging at Max, slamming into him with all his might. Max let out a loud yelp and fell sideways onto the ground. The Rottweiler landed on top of him with a sickening thud, and the two dogs rolled around in a ferocious blur of fur and bared teeth. The harsh sound of their snarls and the horrifying snaps of powerful jaws filled the air. Max and the Rottweiler were locked in a particularly gruesome hold, their fangs digging into each other’s necks.
“No!” Justin cried. Chuy just gasped. Max was taking the worst of it.
Desperate to help his dog, Justin lifted his bike over his head and swung it at the Rottweiler. He whacked him, hard, across the back, knocking him off Max. Draco somersaulted a few feet away, regained his balance, and ran toward Justin, his fangs bared. Justin froze. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max righting himself and moving into position.
“Max,” Justin said, slowly stepping backward without taking his eyes off the Rottweiler, “he’s bigger and stronger than you are, so you need to fight smart, okay?”
It was as if Max understood Justin’s words. He took off like a shot, zipping around Justin, past the Rottweiler, and flying over the edge of the cliff. His body arced gracefully into the air for a split second, and then he was gone.
Draco tore his evil gaze from Justin and flew after Max, disappearing down the steep mountain. Justin and Chuy could hear the dogs as they tumbled and fought all the way down. Justin stepped to the edge and watched as Max reached the bottom first, and took off into the clearing. The Rottweiler, dazed but still fierce, scrambled to his feet and raced after Max. Max was a smarter dog, no question—and his slim frame meant that he had more stamina, even if he wasn’t as strong. He slowed down and let Draco almost catch up to him, then just as the distance between them closed up, Max sped up again. He led the Rottweiler around the clearing, through the trees, and toward the bridge and the waterfall beyond it.
Justin knew how amazing Max was, but even he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Max was trying to exhaust the bigger dog. He was fighting with his brain.
“Attaboy,” Justin whispered to himself.
Justin’s mind raced. He didn’t even have time to consider the fact that he had nearly gotten killed by a pumped-up Rottweiler. He was too worried about Max, scared for his dad, and desperately trying to figure out a way out of this.
Just then, Justin and Chuy heard the sound of footsteps—and Tyler and Emilio’s angry voices. They were getting closer.
Chuy’s face wore an expression of sheer terror.
“It’s okay, man,” Justin reassured his friend. “But we need to split up,” he instructed.
Chuy nodded. He took a deep breath and seemed to find his last drop of hidden courage. “Okay, J.,” Chuy said, his voice steady. “Meet you back here in a minute. Cool?”
“Cool,” Justin replied, hopping on his bike. “Let’s go.”
Tyler and Emilio burst through the trees.
“What’s up, cuz?” Chuy taunted Emilio before bolting into the woods on foot.
“Get back here you little—” Emilio screamed, taking after Chuy.
Tyler eyed Justin menacingly. Before Tyler could speak, Justin hit the pedals on his bike and flew straight past him, nearly knocking Tyler over as he whizzed by. He sped down a path that led into the woods and sloped sharply downward. To his left, the narrow road dropped off sharply. Gripping his handlebars, Justin steered over the tree stumps and rocky terrain. He heard twigs snapping under his tires, and Tyler swearing behind him.
After a few minutes, Justin heard voices ahead of him on the path. He slowed down and listened carefully. It was Chuy and Emilio. Justin came around a bend and saw Emilio’s back turned toward him. Emilio’s arm was raised, and Justin’s heart plummeted. Emilio was pointing a gun right at Chuy, who held his hands up in the air. Chuy saw Justin, but kept his expression neutral so Emilio wouldn’t know Justin was behind him. Justin nodded to Chuy to let his friend know that he had a plan to help him.
“It didn’t have to go down like this,” Emilio spat. Chuy just shrugged, trying not to raise suspicion.
Justin rode up slowly and quietly behind Emilio. Just as Emilio pulled back the safety on his gun, Justin picked up speed and raised his front tire in a perfect wheelie. Emilio turned, but not fast enough to get out of the way. Justin slammed into him, full force, his tire smacking Emilio right in the chest and knocking him off his feet. Emilio’s gun fired into the sky, and then he flew backward, over the side of the path. He disappeared from view, but Chuy and Justin could hear him grunting and swearing as he rolled and bounced down the hill toward the clearing at the bottom, bashing into roots and rocks as he went.
“Nice one, J.,” Chuy exclaimed.
“Thanks. You okay?” Justin asked.
Chuy looked down at his body, making a show of examining himself. “Looks like it,” he said with a grin. “Now stop chitchatting, and let’s go get your dad.”
Justin and Chuy took off down the path, Justin riding and Chuy running at his side. They followed the dirt road as it angled steeply downhill and spiraled inward. They finally emerged at the edge of the clearing. The railroad bridge and river were behind them.
Emilio rolled back and forth on the ground a few yards away, clutching his right leg and writhing in pain.
“My leg!” Emilio shouted. “It’s broken!”
“Stay with him,” Justin shouted to Chuy. “Make sure he doesn’t cause any more trouble.” Chuy nodded and stood near—but not too near—his wailing cousin.
Justin didn’t care about Emilio or his broken leg—he only wanted to find his father. He spotted Ray all the way across the wide clearing, near Tyler’s truck. Justin froze. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. To his horror, he saw Max running at his dad, and his dad pointing a gun straight at Justin’s dog.