Plunge Read online

  Copyright © 2017 Eric Howling

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Howling, Eric, 1956-,

  Plunge / Eric Howling.

  (Orca sports)

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-4598-1419-6 (softcover).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1420-2 (pdf).—

  ISBN 978-1-4598-1421-9 (epub)

  I. Title. II. Series: Orca sports

  PS8615.O9485P58 2017 jC813'.6 C2017-900778-5 C2017-900779-3

  First published in the United States, 2017

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017932500

  Summary: In this high-interest sports novel for teens, Cade has to use his triathlon training to save his family.

  Orca Book Publishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book on Forest Stewardship Council® certified paper.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Cover photography by iStock.com

  Author photo by Theo Wilting

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  www.orcabook.com

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  20 19 18 17 • 4 3 2 1

  To my sons.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter One

  This race was going to be different.

  This time Cade would leap from the starting block and cut through the water ahead of every other swimmer. Including Gavin Groves. Especially Gavin Groves.

  Cade was tired of swimming in Gavin’s wake. Always coming in fourth, or fifth, or even worse. He wanted to stand on the podium. Just once. That’s all he was asking for. All he wanted. And this was the race to do it. Trials to select Team Alberta for the Canada Summer Games started today. The top three of each event would make the team. The rest would be out of luck.

  Cade had trained just as hard as Gavin or any other fourteen-year-old on the Blue Sharks swim club. Being jolted awake by his alarm every weekday morning before dawn. Stumbling from his warm bed. Wolfing down a bowl of oatmeal at the kitchen table. Jumping on his mountain bike and pedaling to the pool as the sun came up. It had been his routine for the entire summer.

  The 200-meter I.M. (Individual Medley) was the toughest event, but it was his best. The race not only tested swimmers’ ability in all four individual strokes but also their endurance. Four laps of the 50-meter pool. Cade wasn’t the best at any single stroke, but he was pretty decent at all four. This race was his chance to prove himself against Gavin and all the other swimmers of his age in the province.

  “Take your marks.”

  Each of the eight swimmers stood on his starting block and crouched into start position. Cade was in lane two. Gavin was two lanes over. Cade put one foot ahead of the other, gripped the front edge of the block with his fingers and got ready to spring into action. There wasn’t a ripple in the pool. There wasn’t a sound from the crowd. There wasn’t a muscle that moved.

  The electronic horn beeped.

  All of Cade’s frozen energy exploded as the sound of the electronic pulse shot through his body. His coiled leg muscles released, launching him high into the air over the water. His arms reached out like Superman before piercing the smooth blue surface below. In seconds the water was whipped into a white froth like a milkshake in a blender. Eight boys churned through the pool, arms whirling, legs kicking.

  Through his goggles Cade focused on the narrow lane ahead of him. He never once looked left or right. He’d worry where Gavin and the rest of the competitors were later. The first length was butterfly, the most tiring stroke of all. His arms extended out to the sides like wings, then swung forward together, propelling his upper body out of the water. Beneath the surface his legs dolphin-kicked, driving him forward.

  He felt the water rush by and could see the end of the pool getting closer with every stroke. He reached out and touched the wall, then pushed off onto his back. Feeling good. All his early-morning practice was paying off.

  Cade shot through the water like a torpedo. With his face now out of the water, it was easier to sneak a peek across the lane ropes at the other swimmers. Their brightly colored swim caps were easy to spot. He saw a red one and a green one ahead of him. No sign of Gavin and his Shark cap. He was rocking this race! If he could hold on, he’d finish third.

  Cade dug down deep. His shoulders turned, whirling his arms over his head one at a time. With each stroke he pulled his cupped hands back alongside his body. Left…right…left…right. He knifed through the water.

  He touched the wall and arched to do the backflip “suicide turn” he’d practiced a million times. Pushing off the wall onto his front, he glided as far as he could underwater before surfacing to start the breaststroke. He could see the other swimmers ahead of him. A blue cap had joined the red and the green. Gavin had moved into third place! Not for long, Cade thought. There was still a chance he could catch Gavin on the last lap. Third place was still within reach.

  Cade touched the wall with both hands, took a deep breath, swiveled and pushed off. This last length of freestyle was the fastest leg of the race. Every swimmer would be giving his all to finish strong.

  Cade knew he could catch Gavin and the lead swimmers, but he’d have to pull out all the stops. Forget breathing every three strokes—who had time to breathe in the most important race of his life? He took a quick breath only when his oxygen-deprived body screamed at him.

  He picked up his stroke count, thrashing his arms through the water even faster. With his head down, he couldn’t see where the other swimmers were. But he couldn’t worry about the competition. All he could do was swim flat out and hope to pass them.

  His lungs really started to burn. His arms began to ache. His legs could barely kick anymore, but he had to push forward. Just half a lap more.

  Cade thought about how sweet it would be to stand on the podium. How swimmers from all over the province would clap their hands and look at him with new respect. How Coach Pedersen would smile and say he’d known Cade could do it all along. How Gavin would finally have to admit Cade was the better swimmer. They’d all know soon enough what Cade Dixon was made of.

  This was it. Just a few more meters. He took one last gulp of air, then forced his arms to pull with every last ounce of energy. Three meters…two meters…one meter…reach…touch!

  Cade grabbed the wall and lifted his head. Heart still pounding, he looked to his right. He didn’t expect to see anyone. He truly thought Gavin and the others were still racing for second. But Gavin was already at the wall, grinning.

  “Thought you had me, Dixon.”

  And he wasn’t
alone. Red cap and green cap had finished too. Am I seeing this right? He pulled up his goggles and shot a glance to his left. Yep. All the other competitors were in, trying to catch their breath. Some were even high-fiving each other. Cade couldn’t believe it.

  He had finished dead last.

  Chapter Two

  “You’ll do better next time.”

  Jasmine Wong skipped over to where Cade was toweling off. “Jazz” was Cade’s friend and one of the top swimmers on the Blue Sharks. Her black hair was cut short so it would fit easily under her cap. She wasn’t as tall as some of the other girls, but her strength more than made up for it. She had powerful arms and shoulders built up from years of grueling practices. Her legs were strong too. Her flutter kick was famous at the club.

  “I’m not so sure there’ll be a next time,” Cade said. “I gave it my best shot, but I still sucked.”

  “You just had an off day,” Jazz said, smiling as usual. “You’ll be on the podium soon.”

  Jazz was the only one to talk to him right after the race. Gavin was too busy pounding fists with the guys who had come first and second. They were pumped knowing they had qualified for Team Alberta. Not that Cade wanted to hear what Gavin had to say anyway.

  “Cade, you got slayed,” Gavin said, waving his arm around like a sword.

  Cade narrowed his eyes. He was jealous but knew Gavin had earned his spot on the team fair and square. He hadn’t.

  “Summer Games, here I come,” Gavin called over his shoulder as he walked toward the medal ceremony. “I’ll send you a postcard from Winnipeg.”

  An ache started to grow in Cade’s gut. The familiar pain that came from thinking he wasn’t good enough. He turned back to his only friend. “How was your race?”

  “Okay,” Jazz said, shrugging her shoulders.

  Cade knew what that meant. Okay was code for “kicking butt.” It didn’t matter what race Jazz entered, she usually came first. Jazz was an awesome swimmer.

  Coach Pedersen walked along the edge of the pool to where Cade and Jazz were standing. He had the broad shoulders of an Olympic swimmer. Cade had often seen him doing lengths in the pool by himself after practice. It had been years since Coach had swum competitively, but he looked like he still could. He was the real deal.

  “Good effort, Cade. You were right up there with the other guys until the last lap.”

  “Yeah, I guess I just ran out of gas.”

  “A little more practice and you’ll catch Gavin.”

  Cade gritted his teeth. “I guess you’re right, Coach.”

  But Cade wasn’t sure Coach was right. He didn’t know if all the practice in the world would make him as fast as Gavin was now. Cade was a good swimmer, but he was just a little too short and too slow to be a great swimmer.

  At least Cade had the 200-meter freestyle relay to look forward to. Coach usually picked him to be one of the four swimmers for the Blue Sharks team. He wasn’t the lead swimmer, but it still felt good to be on the squad.

  “Coach, the relay is coming up this afternoon,” Cade said.

  “Sure is, and I’ve entered a strong team.”

  “What time should I be ready?”

  Coach looked down at his shoes. “Uh, you can take it easy for the rest of the day.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had to make a tough call,” Coach said, frowning. “I’ve chosen Gavin to be our fourth guy.”

  “What? He doesn’t usually swim the relay.”

  “I know, but you just didn’t seem to have it in you today. And he did.”

  Jazz jumped in front of Coach. “It was just one race,” she pleaded. “He’ll be better this afternoon.”

  Coach shook his head and crossed his arms. “I’ve made my decision. It wasn’t easy. But these are the finals, and the winners go to the Canada Summer Games. We need the best team possible. I just don’t think it’s your day, Cade. I’m sorry.” Coach put his hand on Cade’s shoulder briefly, then turned and made his way back to the coaches’ table.

  Cade couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t thought things could get any worse after the last race, but they had. Now there was no reason to hang around. At every other swim meet, he would have stayed until the end to cheer on his teammates. But what was the point now?

  “Let’s bounce,” Cade said to Jazz.

  “You know I can’t,” she replied. “I’m swimming the girls’ 200-meter relay in an hour.”

  “Whatever,” Cade said. “I’m getting out of here. Stay and swim your stupid race.”

  Cade stomped into the men’s change room. The metal door of his locker clanged as he threw it open. He pulled on his shorts and T-shirt, shoved his towel and swim gear into his backpack and headed for the door. He didn’t need this place.

  Outside the aquatic center he strapped on his helmet, unlocked his mountain bike from the rack and hopped on. He sped down the path, not caring what direction he went. All he wanted to do was get away from the pool. Most days he’d take it easy, letting his arm and leg muscles unwind after a long practice. He’d ride slowly along the Bow River, watching the ducks paddle along the surface.

  Not today. He blasted his bike up and down the hills of the paved path. He zigzagged between joggers and walkers, almost knocking a couple of them down.

  “Slow down!” an older woman called.

  “You’re going to kill someone!” a man shouted, shaking his fist.

  If he wasn’t such a good rider, he would have hit them for sure. But he wasn’t going to slow down for anybody.

  His bike’s wheels were spinning as fast as his thoughts. I want to be good at something. I have to be good at something. Trent is a star football player, always getting his name in the newspaper. Dad loves that. Can’t shut up about that. If I can’t make it to the Summer Games, what good am I?

  A couple more minutes and he’d be home. He geared up and stomped down hard on the pedals. His wheels tore around the final corner. He gripped the handlebars and put his head down for one final push. His eyes focused on the pavement zipping by below.

  “Watch out!”

  Cade looked up. But it was too late. A bike was speeding right toward him. The rider swerved to avoid the collision, going off the path but managing to stay on his bike. Cade wasn’t so lucky. He had turned his front wheel so sharply that he lost control. He flew headfirst over his handlebars and crashed onto the pavement. He had been going so fast, he didn’t come to a stop until his body had skidded along the blacktop. He felt the skin ripping off his arms and legs. Blood oozed from his elbows and knees like ketchup from a bottle.

  Chapter Three

  Cade was still sprawled on the ground when the man approached him, wheeling his bike. He didn’t look angry. Cade would have been if a kid had just run him off the path.

  “You okay?” the man asked.

  “I think so,” Cade said, checking his bloodied arms and legs. This was definitely going to be his worst case of road rash ever.

  “You might need a doctor to take a look at those cuts,” the man said, leaning over to take a closer look. “They look fairly nasty.”

  The man was pretty old. About the same age as Cade’s grandfather. He had gray hair that stuck out from his helmet. His face was tanned and crinkled behind a pair of dark sunglasses. He was wearing a special red biking shirt and sleek black bike shorts. On his feet were silver shoes that clicked on the pavement when he walked. He may have looked like an old weathered prune, but Cade thought he still looked pretty cool.

  “Sorry about the crash,” Cade said. “Totally my fault.”

  “Accidents happen,” the man replied. He laid his bike down and then picked up Cade’s to move it to the side of the path. “I remember wiping out in a big race back in 2009.”

  “What happened?” Cade asked, crawling to sit on the grass.

  “I was hitting sixty kilometers an hour, screaming down a monster hill, when I got cut off by another bike. I hit the brakes—which turned out to be a big mistake.”


  Cade’s eyes widened. Why was an old guy like this blasting down a hill at the same speed as a car? “Why? What happened?”

  “My bike stopped, but I kept right on going. I took a terrible spill. I think there was more skin left on the road than there was on my legs,” he said, laughing.

  “I know the feeling,” Cade said, holding up his arm to check his skinned elbow. “Too bad you had to quit the race.”

  “Quit? Are you kidding? You don’t quit Ironman unless they put you on a stretcher and an ambulance takes you away. A medic slapped a couple of bandages on me, and I got back up on my bike. Came third in my age group. Not bad for a sixty-year-old.”

  Cade looked again at his arms and legs. After hearing the man’s story, his injuries didn’t seem so bad.

  “Is Ironman a big bike race?” he asked.

  “You’ve never heard of Ironman? It’s more than a bike race. It’s a big triathlon—the biggest.”

  Cade knew there were three sports in a triathlon but wasn’t exactly sure which three. “What else do you do besides bike?”

  “Every triathlon starts with a swim,” the man said, sitting down beside him. “I’m George Grimsby, by the way,” he said, holding out his hand.

  “Cade Dixon. Nice to meet you.”

  “The second sport is biking.” Mr. Grimsby stared at Cade’s scratched-up bike and smiled. “I know you can ride fast, but you might want to work on your steering.”

  Cade took a closer look at the man’s bike. It wasn’t like any he had ever seen. Even just lying there it looked fast. It was thin and appeared to be made of some kind of special plastic. The handlebars were pointed straight ahead, not to the side like his. Cade noticed two big bottles filled with a bright-orange liquid attached to the tube under the seat. The pedals were different too. The bike looked so space-aged, Cade wondered where it had come from. The future maybe.

  Mr. Grimsby noticed Cade eyeing his bike and nodded. “Yup, she’s a beauty.”

  “Is it heavy?” Cade asked. His mountain bike weighed a ton.

  “See for yourself.”