Deadly Donations 2

It was a fine summer morning. The wind was blowing hard, and the sun
was shining brightly. It was one of those days when nature could not
make up her mind about what type of weather there was going to
be.
Fourteen years old Zain Iqbal sighed and looked out of the library's
window. Tanned and well built, he had the look of a born athlete, which
he was, and he hated to stay indoors on a day like this. Since the
assignment he was working on was very important and due the next day,
he had no choice. It had been given to him last week and how he wished
now that he had completed it before. His friend, Jake Langley, had
finished his report and must be enjoying himself.
Suddenly a handsome, red haired boy came towards him and dropped his
books on the table.
" Hi Zain," he said.
" Jake!" exclaimed Zain, " I thought you said you had finished your
assignment?"
" I thought I had," said Jake. " But I just found out today that I had
to write about the Red Indians, not the India ones."
" Anyway," he asked, " What do you have to write about?"
" Pakistan being overpopulated with Afghani refugees," said Zain.
" Just like Mrs. Herington to give you a topic as boring as that," said
Jake.
" No actually," said Zain, " I found it quite interesting. Listen to
this. There are over three million Afghani refugees in Pakistan. The
government already has its hands full and the condition in which most
of these refugees are living is really bad. The government is depending
on donations to help them."
" Three million!" exclaimed Jake.
" Probably more," said Zain. "The magazine from which I got this is
very old."
" I sure wish we could do something to help them," said Jake.
" I know of a way we can," said Zain. " I read a book once, in which
some kids arrange a bikathon to raise funds for the library."
" What's a bikathon?" asked Jake.
" In a bikathon, you bike as much as you can and get some people to
pledge you some money for every mile you travel," said Zain.
" Oh," said Jake. " I knew that, but I was just trying to see if you
know."
" Yeah right," said Zain laughing. " Anyway, let's finish the
assignments and use the evening to call some friends over and get
things arranged."
The boys finished their report in about two hours, just before the
library closed, and rushed outside, forgetting to put the books they
used back in their shelves. The librarian looked at the two boys
rushing out and shook her head, muttering, " When will those two ever
learn?"

Rushing home, the boys stomped up the stairs and into Zain's bedroom.
Using Zain's personal phone, they called up their friends, Adam,
Jonathon, Bilal, Danial and Omar.
There was a knock on the bedroom door and Zain's father, Mr. Iqbal,
came in.
" What's all the commotion about?" he asked.
" Just calling some friends over, dad," said Zain.
" Any special reason?" he asked.
" Yes, Mr. Iqbal," answered Jake. " Zain thought of this brilliant
idea. We can have a bikathon and people can pledge us money and
everything. All the money is supposed to go to Afghanistan."
" You do seem very excited about it," remarked Mr. Iqbal, " but have
you thought about where you are going to hold it?"
" That's something we haven't thought of yet," said Zain,
sheepishly.
" I'm just going over to the governor's house for a meeting," said Mr.
Iqbal, " and I'll see if he'll let you use the forest. I remember when
I first came here, that was about ten years ago; they held a marathon
there to collect some money for the police fund. They made a trail of
about ten miles, and as far as I know, it is still there."
Mr. Iqbal was a very important person in the government's secret
service. Everything he did was all hush-hush, so Zain didn't exactly
know what his dad did. But one thing was sure and that was that his dad
was always on a mission, sometimes on the other side of the planet, and
Zain did not see him very often.
" Well," said Mr. Iqbal, glancing at his Rolex, " I have to go for a
meeting. You kids have fun. By the way your mom's gone to a party, so
you'll have the house to yourself, I don't know where your sister is,
though."
Their friends soon arrived and they all gathered in the living
room.
" What happened?" asked Jonathon. " You seemed pretty excited when you
called me."
Zain looked at Jonathon, the only Canadian amongst the friends, then
back at the group.
" Do you know that there are over three million refugees in Pakistan?"
he asked.
" And do you know that most of these three million and above are living
in very bad conditions?" asked Jake.
" The Government has its hands full already," said Zain, " and its
depending on funds to help these refugees."
" So why not do our part and help?" asked Jake.
" How?" asked Omar.
" Well Jake and I have thought of this brilliant plan to raise money,"
said Zain. " We can hold a bikathon."
" A bika-what?" asked Bilal.
" He said a bikathon," came a voice.
Everyone turned around to see Zain's sister, Maha standing at the
doorway.
" I thought your dad said we had the house to ourselves?" asked Jake,
and Zain scowled.
Ignoring them both, she took a seat next to Zain, and went on, " I read
about it somewhere. It's when you bike and get some people to pledge
some money for every mile you travel."
" That's right, Maha," said Zain. " Now what we want is to get at least
twenty bikers to bike for thirty miles, who in turn get eleven people
to pledge some money to them for every mile they travel. The amount
really depends on the people themselves, but we're hoping for at least
five per mile."
" It's a great idea," said Danial, " but where are we going to hold it,
Einstein? Thirty miles is a big distance, and I don't think the streets
are that long, and even if they were, they won't be empty."
" Even if that was possible," said Omar, " I don't think the
contestants can bike so far, I know I can't."
" There's going to be a resting point, stupid," said Jake, " We'll try
to find a good spot approximately fifteen miles from the starting
point."
" Where is it going to be?" asked Danial, again.
" At the forest," said Jake.
" But isn't that government property?" asked Bilal.
" My dad's trying to get the governor to let us hold it there," said
Zain.
" Great," said Adam, " you've already gotten things planned."
" The meetings over," said Zain, glancing at his watch. " I want you
guys to come over at after school and we'll arrange everything
then."

At the next meeting, the boys and Maha were sitting in the living room.
A map of the forest, which Zain and Jake had borrowed from the library,
was pasted up on the wall.
" My dad has convinced the governor that we are a responsible bunch of
kids," said Zain, " which we aren't."
Everybody laughed and Zain tried to keep a serious face.
" Anyway," he continued, " we have gotten permission to hold the
bikathon at Bear Woods."
" Here," he said, taking a stick and pointing it at some area in the
map, " we have the trail. Following the trail, we reach a cabin after
thirteen and a half miles. It has a huge clearing around it and is a
perfect place for the party. After a break of forty minutes, the
contestants will continue biking. Here, after exactly twenty-eight
miles from the starting point, is the finish line. The winner will get
a trophy and twenty-five dollars. Every contestant will get a ribbon
and a certificate."
" Everything's planned out," said Adam, " Let's make the posters, and
get people to pledge us money."
" One step ahead of you, pal," said Jake. " Zain and I have already
gotten the art club to make a poster for us. Then we are going to make
copies of it and stick it up on walls."
The boys had nothing more to discuss, so Zain took out a few cds and
put on his MP3 player. At around five, everyone left.

The next day Zain decided to check out the cabin. He took out his
motorbike and went to pick up Jake.
Jake was given permission, and sat behind him.
" I thought a person is not allowed to ride a motorbike until he's
eighteen," Jake teased.
" Well that's an advantage kids with government agents for their dads
have," Zain shot back.
" Who lives in the cabin?" asked Jake.
" My dad said that it was uninhabited," said Zain.
The boys reached the cabin soon. They walked up to it and opened the
door. The cabin was the complete opposite of what they thought it would
be like. It was neat and well dusted. There was a big oak table in the
middle of the room.
" Great," said Zain, " now we don't have to worry about where to put
the food."
Surprisingly, there was yesterday's Wall Street Journal on the table.
Plus the cabinets were filled with tinned food.
" Cabin is uninhabited," said Jake, " yet well dusted and stocked up
with food that could last for a year."
" Probably a poor person who couldn't afford a house," said Zain. " I
don't think we should turn him in; he'll probably leave before the
bikathon. Besides its government property, so we don't need to worry
about it. Come on let's go."
Jake wanted to ask which poor person read the Wall Street Journal, or
could afford so much food at one go, or dusted the place, but a green
paper caught his attention. He went towards it and picked it up. It was
a hundred-dollar bill. But it did not feel like money. Strange.
" Jake are you coming?" came Zain's voice.
Without thinking, Jake pocketed the note and went outside.
" What took you?" asked Zain.
" My shoelace became undone," he lied.
" Well hop on," said Zain, " we don't want to be late for
supper."
The ride back home ended in a mishap. The ride was going smoothly, when
suddenly a rock came under the tire, and the motorbike fell sideways.
Unfortunately both boys fell in a puddle.
" What luck," muttered Zain, shivering, " we're all wet and it is so
cold."
" Look at the bright side," said Jake, " At least it didn't
rain."
Suddenly, drops of water started pouring out of the sky.
" Next time," said Zain, " keep your mouth shut."

It was Friday, the last day of school, not only for the week, but for
the whole summer as well. The gang was sitting at a table around the
cafeteria.
" Just imagine," said Omar, " no more suffering."
" Yeah," said Danial, " no more math sums."
Everyone knew that Maths was Danial's weak point.
" Quit it guys," said Jake, " you are acting as if this is the last
time we come to school again. The misery's going to start all over
again next year."
" Anyway," said Zain, " the Art Club is done with our poster, and I've
given it to the computer teacher for scanning and printing. Omar and
Jonathon will be in charge of the advertisements."
" How are the pledges going?" asked Jake.
" I've got eight people to pledge me six dollars per mile," said
Danial.
" I've got ten people to pledge me four per mile," said Bilal, " and
three people are pledging me three per mile."
Before anyone else could tell about their pledges, a taunting laugh
rang through the cafeteria. They didn't have to look up to tell who it
was. A boy of sixteen, blonde haired, well built and handsome, came
into view, followed by three boys. It was Salem, and his cronies, Josh,
Jack, and Yasir.
" Well, well, well," said Salem, " I heard you guys are having a
bikathon, to raise money. What you goodie-goodies could not find an old
lady to help across the street?"
Salem and his cronies laughed at this joke as if it were the funniest
thing on Earth.
Zain sighed, wondering how this jerk ever found out.
" Yes," he said, " we are having a bikathon. It is to raise money to
help refugees in Pakistan. Now what are you going to do about
it?"
" Oh man!" exclaimed Salem, " look at the loser get angry."
His cronies laughed.
" I challenge you losers that me and my pal's are going to kick your
you know what in the bikathon," said Salem, " that is if you'll let us
enter."
The whole cafeteria was now staring at Zain to see what he'd do.
Calmly, he replied, " Challenge accepted. Everyone who wants to enter
can sign up on the registrations we are going to stick on the wall
outside school."
" And by the way," he added, " it's my pals and I not me and my
pals."
Salem, who thought of himself as a literary prodigy, was quite
embarrassed.
Zain had the advantage now, and he would not let go of it.
" The only thing you have to do is get some people to pledge you money
for every mile you travel," Zain told the people in the cafeteria. Then
looking directly at Salem, he said, " That is, if anyone would pledge
anything to you."
Salem had had enough. He quickly excused himself and got out of the
cafeteria.
Everyone in the cafeteria was laughing at Salem's expense. Zain simply
picked up his backpack and said, " Meeting at seven tomorrow."

" We are going to have burgers, french-fries, hotdogs, chicken," sang
Jake, " and everything-else that can be barbecued."
It was seven-thirty p.m. the next day, and the meeting had started half
an hour ago. Everybody was here.
" Enough about food, already!" exclaimed Adam. " Let's talk about
something else. The contestants, for instance."
" Since we have put up the posters," said Omar, " twenty people have
signed up. Many people did not, because thirty miles is a long
distance, you know. The average of the pledges adds up to six per
mile."
" Great," said Zain, " that's more than we were even hoping to
get.''
" And that's more than we were hoping to spend," said Jake, " we now
have to buy at least twenty five ribbons, a cup, food enough for at
least thirty five people and a trophy plus the twenty-five dollar
prize."
" And don't forget," said Jonathon, " that we have to beat Salem and
his gang. How are we going to do that?"
" We can beat them," said Zain, " But the thing is they'll be up to
something. They never do a thing fair and square."
" But we know that they will be up to something," said Jake, " so we'll
be ready for them."
They talked for a few more minutes and soon, everybody left, except for
Jake.
" Jake could you pass me the list," said Zain. " I want to estimate the
cost of everything."
Jake dug in his pocket and took out a paper and handed it to
Zain.
"This is not the list," said Zain. " The paper is smudged with green
ink. Wait! Part of it says a hundred."
Jake remembered the hundred-dollar bill he had found in the cabin. A
normal hundred-dollar bill wouldn't be all washed up. Suddenly Jake
understood it all.
" It's counterfeit money," he blurted out.
" What?" asked Zain.
" I found this hundred-dollar bill inside the cabin," said Jake. "
There was something strange about the way it felt, so I kept it in my
pocket. On the way we fell, so my clothes got dirty. I gave them to my
mom to for washing."
" And a genuine hundred-dollar bill would not have become like this,"
finished off Zain.
" Yeah and the only explanation could be is that some one is using that
cabin, since its abandoned, to hide his or her loot," said Jake.
" I'm going over to investigate," said Zain. " Coming?"
" Zain, I always knew you were crazy," said Jake, " but this crosses
the limit. We are talking about big time counterfeiters, and you want
to go and investigate? We should tell someone."
" Listen Jake," said Zain, " Do you think anyone's going to believe a
bunch of kids saying they think a group of counterfeiters is operating
in the city, just because we found a hundred-dollar bill that's now
washed up? Don't you know how phoney it sounds? People will think we
just crave attention, and make us see a shrink or something."
" And what do we do if we find a gang over there?" asked Jake.
" I'm taking my cellular phone with me," said Zain, " if we find
anything suspicious, we call the police."
" Okay," said Jake, hesitantly. " Let's go."
They got on Zain's motorbike and reached the cabin. Sure enough, the
lights were on and they could hear voices.
" I've seen the posters, boss," came a voice. " They are going to hold
a bikathon here."
" When is it going to be?" asked another voice.
" Monday, boss," said the first voice.
" We have two days to clear out," said the second voice. ' This is a
million dollar operation and we don't want to get caught."
That was enough to convince Zain. He dug in his pocket and took out the
mobile phone. He was just about to dial nine one one, when suddenly two
strong hands took hold of his shoulder.
" Look Kumble," came a man's voice, " we caught us a few
snoopers."
Zain turned around to see a huge, well built, middle-aged Indian man
standing behind him. He saw that another Indian man was holding
Jake.
Both the men laughed cruelly.
" Let's take them to the boss, Anil," said Kumble.
Zain realized that this was the man who was talking to the boss
inside.
" Boss does not like snoopers," said Anil. " He won't be happy."
" When is he happy?" muttered Kumble.
They dragged the two struggling boys into the cabin.
" We caught these snooping around, boss," said Anil.
" And this one was just about to call the cops," said Kumble, pointing
his finger at Zain.
The boss was an Indian as well, probably in his late forties. He looked
well educated and spoke English fluently, with a British accent, unlike
his two henchmen who spoke in an Indian one.
" We Indians do not treat snoopers very well, you know," he said.
" If our government finds out that we are missing, you are in big
trouble," said Zain.
" Oh," said the boss, " that is where you are wrong, my dear. We are
going to be far away, by the time the police find out. Probably in
Spain or Mexico."
" What are you going to do with us?" demanded Jake.
" You see, we have no intention of being caught. You both,
unfortunately, are loose ends," said the boss, " and loose ends should
be eliminated."
The boss smiled evilly at the boys, and continued, " Anil will finish
the job nice and easily."
" Somebody help us!" screamed Jake.
" There is no need to shout," said the boss, " No one will hear you.
You should try to get a good night's sleep, since it will be the last
you'll have. I'm afraid you'll have to be tied and gagged."
Kumble brought the ropes, and quickly tied them up. Anil gagged them.
Then, the boys were led upstairs into a room.
The boss smiled cruelly, and said, " There is no need to think about
escaping. The window is too high. And you are on the second
floor."
The boss then muttered something that sounded like goodnight. Then the
three counterfeiters stepped out and locked the door behind them.
" We are doomed!" wailed Jake. " I knew we shouldn't have come
here."
" Don't be such a baby," said Zain.
He stood up and undid his ropes.
" How did you do that?" asked Jake.
" My parents say it's a waste of time reading all those Hardy Boys and
Nancy Drew books," said Zain, " but I always knew they would come in
handy. I read that if you are being tied up, always inhale. Your body
swells up, and in a way becomes fatter, just like a balloon does when
it is filled with air. Then when left alone, exhale, and your body
loses all that air, and the ropes become lose."
" Undo mine," said Jake.
Zain took out his Swiss Army knife and cut Jake's ropes. It was a great
thing that the crooks hadn't thought about frisking them.
" What do we do now?" asked Jake.
" Since the windows are too high," said Zain, " we'll have to use
another method I've learnt."
He put his hands in his motorcycle jacket and took out his rubber
motorcycle gloves.
" I always wanted leather ones," he said, " but it's a good thing my
dad is against killing of animals for useless things."
He looked around the room and found a metal wire. He inserted that into
an electric socket. Sparks started coming out.
" What are you going to do with that?" asked Jake.
" Watch and learn," said Zain.
He picked up the other end of the wire and took it towards the
doorknob. He then tied it around it, and inserted it inside the
lock.
" What's that going to do?" asked Jake.
" Since metal is a good conductor of electricity, the electricity will
pass from the socket and go into the doorknob," explained Zain. " Now
when one of those Indian buffoons come and touch the doorknob or insert
the key there, they'll get a shocking surprise."
Zain congratulated himself for using the first pun in his life.
" What if it doesn't work?" asked Jake.
" Usually detectives always have a plan B," said Zain. " But since we
don't, let us just hope this plan works."
" After one of the counterfeiters will get electrocuted," said Jake, "
what do we do?"
" Naturally when the counterfeiters find their colleague knocked out,"
said Zain, " they'll open the door to get us, and they'll get
electrocuted as well."
" What is to stop them from knocking down this door?'' asked
Jake.
" In that case," said Zain, " we'll take one of these thick two by
fours, that are littered all over the place, and knock them on the
head."
" It is late in the night," said Jake. " Let's get some rest."
" What if one of them tries to open the door when we are sleeping?"
asked Zain.
" We will take shifts, stupid," said Jake.
" I'll take the first shift," said Zain.
" That is so nice of you," said Jake, " It's agreed."
" I mean I am taking the sleeping shift first," said Zain.
Jake groaned at his friend's lame joke.
" Okay," he said, " you can sleep first."
Jake's shift went peacefully. It was very hard to stay awake and he had
fallen asleep on several occasions.
After one of his uncomfortable on-duty snoozes, Jake decided that he
had been on his shift long enough.
He went to Zain and said, " Okay Sleeping Beauty, wake up."
" What?" mumbled Zain groggily. " Mom I think I'll skip school
today."
Saying that, he turned over and went back to sleep. Jake took his arm
and pulled him up.
" You'll do no such thing, young man," Jake said, laughing.
Zain opened his eyes, and exclaimed, " Jake?"
" You were expecting the tooth-fairy?" Jake asked. " Hurry up, it's my
turn to sleep peacefully."
Zain made an effort to get up, and succeeded. He looked outside; the
sun was shining dimly. It was just after dawn. Any time now, they will
be coming for them.
He put his ear against the door and listened for any sound of
footsteps.
After a while, he heard the boss's voice shout, " Kumble, get the
kids."
He went to Jake, and shook him awake.
" Jake," he said, " wake up, they are coming!"
" But I just went to sleep," Jake mumbled.
" That is your problem," said Zain.
Both of them took a two by four, and took their positions at the sides
of the door.
Soon enough, they heard a muffled groan and a thud, as Kumble's body
hit the ground. They waited a few minutes. They knew that the other two
would be coming soon.
Sure enough, they heard footsteps coming towards the door.
" The knob's probably booby trapped," came the boss's voice. " The
oldest trick in the book. Wait till I get my hands on those kids, I'll
tear 'em apart!"
The old door was knocked down in two kicks from Anil. He poked his
head in, and Zain let him have it. He fell to the ground, knocked
out.
" Well, well, well," said the boss, " we have a regular James Bond
here, don't we?"
" The name's Iqbal," said Zain, copying the quote he had heard from the
old Bond movie. " Zain Iqbal."
" Well, Mr. Zain Iqbal," said the boss, pointing the gun at him, " I'm
sorry to say that this movie is going to be a tragedy."
" And in a tragedy," said the boss, smiling his cruel smile, " the hero
always dies."
" Not if the hero's sidekick can help it," said Jake, holding a gun. "
Freeze buster!"
All this time, Jake had kept hidden. When Anil was knocked out, his gun
had fallen towards Jake. Then he saw the boss pointing the gun at Zain.
Apparently, he hadn't noticed him, and Jake's instincts had told him it
was wise to stay hidden until the right time.
The boss laughed.
" Do you even know how to use that thing?" he asked.
Jake felt that he had been insulted. Without thinking, he aimed the gun
at the boss's leg and fired. The bullet hit the target, and the boss
screamed with pain, and clutched his knee. In doing so, he had dropped
his gun, and Zain went to collect it.
Anil and Kumble had regained consciousness. They looked shocked when
they saw their boss crying with pain, and Jake and Zain with the
pistols.
" I want you both to raise your arms up high, where I can see 'em, and
move towards that wall," said Zain.
"Don't try anything foolish," warned Jake, " or you are going to be
three victims of an angry teenager, who didn't even get a good night's
sleep!"
" Yeah," said Zain, suppressing a smile, " we teenagers do not treat
counterfeiters very well, you know, no matter where they come
from."
" Zain," said Jake, " I'll hold them while you go call the cops."
Zain rushed downstairs and searched for his Samsung cellular phone. He
found it on top of the oak table.
" Oh man, they put scratches on it!" he exclaimed. " And it was brand
new."
He dialled nine one one.
" Hello," he said, " Is this the police?"
" It is, son," came a man's voice. " Who is this?"
" This is Zain Iqbal, son of Mr. Iqbal Khawaja," he told.
" Mr. Iqbal, the government agent?" asked the man. " You are the kid
who has been missing since last night?"
" Yeah," he answered.
" Is Jake Langley with you?" asked the man.
" Yes," said Zain. " We have caught a gang of counterfeiters. Send the
police, the Swat Team, FBI, or whatever you have quickly! I'm calling
from a cabin, thirteen and a half miles deep in Bear Woods."
" Oh yeah," he added, " tell my dad that Jake and I are safe."
He went back and joined Jake.
" They are on their way," he told him.
" Good," said Jake. " I think the boss needs to get that bullet wound
checked soon."
After about ten minutes, they heard police sirens. The door of the
cabin was busted open and an armed policeman entered. He made his way
up the stairs, followed by two of his colleagues. Guns cocked, they
entered the room.
" Freeze!" he screamed, " Raise your hands and put them behind your
head, and don't even think about moving a muscle"
" Can I wiggle my ears?" asked Zain innocently.
The Policemen then comprehended the scene in front of them.
" Well bless me soul," he exclaimed, " these kids have caught the Kahn
Group single handed. We've been after these crooks for years."
The two other policemen handcuffed the counterfeiters, while a medic
was called up to have a look at the boss's leg.
Jake and Zain ran outside, where they were greeted by their
parents.
" We were so worried," said Jake and Zain's mothers at the same
time.
" What got into you kids?" demanded Mr. Langley. " You could have been
killed!"
" We should ground you two for life," said Mr. Iqbal, " but like I say,
all's well that ends well."
Suddenly Zain and Jake were surrounded by reporters.
" How did these guys get here so quick?" asked Mr. Iqbal, to the
lieutenant, who had just arrived.
" I don't know," the lieutenant replied, smiling, " but the kids seem
to be enjoying themselves.
Jake and Zain sure were. The reporters asked so many questions that the
kids were feeling quite dizzy by the time the police got them to
disperse.
The lieutenant went up to the kids and said, " I'm lieutenant McKenzie.
You boys should be mighty proud of yourself. You both just caught one
of the most notorious counterfeiters of all times."
" I hope you both decide to join the police force when you grow up," he
added. " The world needs more brave kids like you."
" Sir," came a voice.
They turned around to see a policeman walking towards them.
" The Kahn group had around thirty five million counterfeited dollars,
all stashed up in the cabin, he said. " I received word that there was
a hundred thousand dollars award for the capture of these
crooks."
Now it was Zain and Jake's turn to look shocked.
" We are rich! We are rich!" exclaimed Jake. " We are filthy
rich!"
" Yeah," said Zain, " we sure are."
" Well, I best be going now. Remember to come and collect your reward,"
said the chief, shaking hands with Mr. Iqbal and Mr. Langley. " And
boys, keep up the good work!"

It was Monday, and the bikathon was about to begin. Salem took his
position at the starting line. He was thinking about the great capture
Jake and Zain had made. It was all over the news. Salem was
downcast.
" Why does he always come on top?" he asked himself. " Well this is one
thing I'm going to beat him at."
Salem looked at Zain and sneered at him.
" Prepare to lose," he said.
" We'll see about that," answered Zain.
Mr. Iqbal gave the signal and the race began!
Salem took an easy lead at the beginning of the race. He looked behind
him and saw Zain right behind him. His friends and the rest of the
contestants were way behind. Although the real race as going to begin
after the party, if you reached the cabin first, you get the first
position in the second starting point.
Cycling with ease, he took the turns like a pro and did not let any one
pass him. Suddenly, Omar passed him. Salem pedalled faster, caught up
with him. Salem knew that there was no way he could win without
cheating. He stuck his hand forward and pushed Omar. Omar was caught
completely by surprise and was off balance in a second. He fell down
hard.
Chuckling, Salem made his way to the cabin and was the first to arrive.
Then came Danial, Zain and the rest of the contestants. Omar came last,
covered with scratches and bruises.
Jake, who did not take part in the race, was in charge of the party. He
took down everyone's position, and signalled for the party to
begin.
Almost half the town was there. The table was laden with delicious
looking food. Someone who owned a Pizza shop, had sent about thirty
pizzas for the party, and by far they were the most delicious food of
the lot. Jake amused everyone by showing them how to flip a burger from
the grill onto the burger bun.
Someone had even brought along his boom box and Linkin Park flooded the
clearing. Salem had to admit the party was well organized.
After about an hour, the contestants got on their bikes and were off.
Josh, from Salem's gang took the lead, but not for long. Omar, now
looking like the bandaged monster, overtook him.
Salem pedalled hard to catch up with him. He almost succeeded, when
suddenly Omar extended his hand and pushed him. Salem fell hard on the
ground. Omar had taken his revenge. He pedalled forward and left the
others far behind.
It seemed as Omar would go all the way, but then, unfortunately, the
wheel of his bike slipped in the mud, and he fell down the second time,
just one mile from the finish line. Salem passed him, followed by Zain,
Yasir and Danial.
Zain and Yasir fought for second place, and Zain succeeded, after Yasir
too fell in the mud. Salem was just a few yards ahead of him. The
finish line came into view, just half a mile away. Although very tired,
the sight renewed his spirits, and he caught up with Salem.
They came neck to neck, and were willing to fight all the way.
" Prepare to lose," said Salem, once again.
" Says you," said Zain.
Salem pushed Zain. Zain tried to keep his balance, and succeeded. He
took hold of Salem's shirt, and pulled him back. Pushing and pulling,
they made their way to the finish line. It was only a few yards
away.
While they were struggling, a biker passed them. The biker biked so
fast, that he or she had crossed the line before they knew what had
happened. Zain pushed Salem one last time and pedalled hard and crossed
the finish line for second place. Salem came in third.
Mr. Langley, who was the judge, announced the winner.
" Maha!" exclaimed Salem and Zain together.
This battle had been between Salem and Zain. No one had expected her to
complete the race, much less win.
Anyhow, Maha was from Zain's gang and that automatically made Zain the
winner of the challenge. All the kids came and congratulated Maha and
Zain for the victory.
" Who is the loser now?" asked Jake.
Embarrassed, Salem walked away.
Jonathon came running towards them.
" Guess what," he said, " We just made a thirty five thousand dollars.
And the mayor has decided to donate five thousand more. That makes a
total of forty thousand dollars, making more than two million
rupees."
" That's great!" exclaimed Zain.
" Well," said Danial, " I've done my good deed for the day."
Everyone wanted to go home and rest. Soon only Jake and Zain were left
standing.
" This has been such an exciting week," said Jake. " Summer holidays
are going to seem boring after this."
" I wonder if we will have another adventure," said Zain.
" No way man!" exclaimed Jake. " I've had enough of adventures to last
for a lifetime."
Laughing, both friends got on Zain's motorbike and started for
home.