The Crossroads

The burning stump exploded into a shower of sparks, which landed like a cannon blast on the plywood deck of the boys’ pirate ship.

The tree fort crackled with fire.

Zipper barked.

“You’re right. We need Davy.” Zack wove his way through the trees, down the slope to the highway. Zipper ran after him.

“There he is. See? In the cornfield.” The fire was now so bright it cast long, jagged shards of light all the way across the highway. “Davy?”

Zack’s best friend was fifty—maybe a hundred—yards away, but Zack could see him.

“Davy? You gotta come back! The fire’s out of control!”

In the distance, Davy turned slowly.

“Hurry! It’s burning down the tree fort!”

Davy waved.

And then he disappeared. He didn’t walk into the wall of cornstalks or hide behind a tree—he disappeared!

Zack stood frozen in shock.

He had never battled an out-of-control fire before.

He had never seen his best friend vanish into thin air, either.