Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22 Dan squeezed his eyes shut because he didn't want to see this: the ground rushing toward them, death rushing toward them. Amy will be so sad, he thought. Nellie, too. I hope they're kind of mad at me, too, so they're not just crying all the time…. Dan realized that he seemed to have a lot of time to think for someone plunging toward the ground. Then he realized he'd stopped falling. "Huh," Hamilton said. "Guess it's a good thing I still had the rope attached to my climbing harness." Dan dared to open his eyes. They were dangling alongside the cliff again. Dan could see straight down to the cemetery, far below. He looked up: Hamilton was above him, clutching Dan's wrists every bit as tightly as Dan

was holding on to Ham's arm. But Dan wasn't wearing a climbing harness. Dan wasn't attached to any rope. I could still fall, Dan thought. If my hands slip, if Hamilton lets go… He didn't dare to look down again. He didn't want to see all the empty air between him and the cemetery— empty air that would be so easy to fall through. "Didn't I tell you not to endanger my son?" Eisenhower bellowed from above them, clutching the rope that was attached to Hamilton's harness. "Dad, why don't you pull us up before you start screaming?" Hamilton said. He spoke calmly, but Dan could feel his hands beginning to slide. They were sweating. Slippery. Losing their grip. "The way these ropes are, I'm not sure I can save you both," Eisenhower said frantically. He seemed to be yanking ropes around, diving for extra clips. Hamilton and Dan lurched a little lower. "I can't—" "You're going to have to," Hamilton said.

"Because I'm not letting Dan fall." Dan's ears were ringing too much to hear what Eisenhower or Hamilton said next. But the rope jerked up. And then it was Eisenhower's hands lifting him over the rim of the cliff, pulling him back to safety. Dan scooted as far away from the ledge as he could, across the rock, through the open door in the rock wall. He wasn't thinking about where the door might lead. He wasn't even thinking about the Clue hunt anymore. He let his eyes close again. Safe, he thought. I'm safe. I'm not going to die. Hamilton didn't let me fall. Eisenhower didn't let me fall. He wasn't even going to hurt me before. I just got scared. Then Eisenhower punched him right in the face. "You could have killed my son!" Eisenhower screamed at Dan. Now that everyone was safe, Eisenhower let the fury flow over him. He grabbed Dan by the shoulders and shook him. Dan's head rattled against the ground. He looked groggily up at

Eisenhower, like a quarterback who'd taken too many hits. "You could have made me lose Hamilton!" Eisenhower repeated. He had to make Dan understand how awful that would have been, how close Dan had come to ruining everything. Dan blinked. "You mean, like I lost my mom and dad?" he asked. "Dad, stop it!" Hamilton yelled, tackling his father and knocking him away from Dan. Eisenhower let go. Does Dan think it's my fault his parents died? he thought. It wasn't, but… what does Hamilton think? "Dad, what's wrong with you? Dan's on our team!" Hamilton was screaming, pinning Eisenhower back against some sort of wall. Eisenhower bit back the words, "No, he isn't! Not really!" How had he thought he could lie to his own son?

What does Hamilton see when he looks at me? Eisenhower wondered. Doesn't he know— everything I've done, everything I'm doing— it's so he can be proud of me? Now Eisenhower felt like the world around him had gone dark, and he was plunging down. Like everything he'd ever believed in was falling away, and the very ground beneath him was dropping. Wait—it really had gotten dark, and the ground was plunging downward. "Is this an earthquake?" Eisenhower bellowed. "A rock slide?" He grabbed Hamilton by the shoulders. "Quick— let's get someplace safe!" "Dad, I think it's just an elevator," Hamilton said, shoving him away. Eisenhower put together the sensations. The darkness could have been from a door closing behind them. And the falling was slow and steady. Exactly like an elevator. "Right," he said gruffly. "I was just testing you, son." Everything was going to be okay. The elevator was undoubtedly taking them to the final prize.

The Holts were still going to win. The elevator stopped moving. The door slid open. They were back at sea level. Back by the cemetery.