The Shadow Club Read Online Free PDF Page B

enough, the field was clear enough to race. Austin had come over with about ten kids, and more kids were joining us, because everyone knew what he was up to, and everyone knew about our rivalry.
    "Maybe we should wait until your legs grow some more," he said. Everyone laughed. I laughed, too; better to be laughed with than laughed at, right? Inside I wasn't laughing, though.
    "Fine, then," I said. "Right now."
    Austin smiled that crocodile smile. "Greg, go about sixty yards, and judge us." Greg Miller, one of the new seventh graders on the team, obeyed, as if he had been given an order by God.
    So this is where it begins, I thought, this year's competition. This year's war. I felt strong, I felt ready to run, I felt like I always felt when I raced with Austin—that maybe this time I would beat him.
    We got down into starting position, then Austin got up.
    "Wait," he said, and took off his precious shoes, then his socks. He was going to run barefoot. "OK." He got back down. "Ready to lose?" he asked.
    I didn't answer.
    Martin Bricker got ready to start us, as more and more kids turned to watch. Even teachers were watching. So this is where it begins.
    "On your mark . . . get set . . . go!"
    I took off like a bullet, cutting through the wind and pounding the grass with every last bit of my strength. I didn't turn to look, but I could see in the corner of my eye that we were neck and neck.
    Ten yards were gone.
    I looked toward Greg, down the field, and concentrated on turning everything I had into power.
    This is for every time you beat me in races as a kid!
    I pushed harder.
    And this is for when you came back to do it again last year!
    I pushed harder.
    And this is for how you made me feel this morning!
    I pushed harder.
    We were still neck and neck.
    Thirty yards were gone. Thirty to go.
    The cheers faded away behind us.
    And this is for challenging me in front of the whole school, and this is for everything you'll ever try to do to me for the rest of our lives, and this is for those stupid running shoes you wear!
    Forty yards gone.
    I was ahead of him by a foot! I was beating him! I pushed harder.
    Fifteen yards to go! Fifteen to go!
    And then, like he'd been holding it all back, he flew out in front of me. He didn't inch out, he flew out, like I was standing still. He moved like a machine in fast forward; a ship blasting into hyperspace. He was a foot in front of me. Two feet.Three feet. He turned to look at me, and smiled that awful smile of his.
    I lunged. I dove forward in a wild attempt to reach the finish line before he did, but he was there before I hit the ground. I was moving so fast that I skidded along the grass, skinning my elbows and ruining my pants.
    The Agony of Defeat.
    I felt like that skier who wipes out on the ski jump every Sunday on Wide World of Sports. The Agony of Defeat: skinned elbows and ruined pants and a laughing L'Austin Space.
    By now kids were crowding around Austin.
    "Wow, did you see Austin take off?"
    "Wow, he really beat him bad!"
    "Wow, Austin's so fast!"
    Wow this, and wow that. Austin was loving every last bit of it. They crowded around him and left me there on the ground to examine my elbows.
    "You shouldn't race Austin, kid," said a seventh grader. "Austin beats everybody."
    Austin looked down at me. He was barely winded. "You ran pretty good . . . for a gopher!" he said, and everyone laughed.
    "Gopher!" they all said. "Gopher, Gopher, Gopher!" Austin raised his hands to conduct them as they all chanted in unison: "Go-PHER! Go-PHER! Go-PHER!" over and over again.
    I could have killed him! I could have ripped him limb from limb, but then I thought about Tyson McGaw. No. I wasn't Tyson. I was civilized, and I wasn't going to attackAustin. Instead I stood up, brushed myself off, and waited till the gopher-chanting stopped. Then I looked Austin straight in the face, and put out my hand.
    "Nice race, Austin." I shook his hand. Let me tell you, it took all my strength to do it,