Children's Fiction
"Everything here is backward," Melissa complains.
"Yeah," Zach agrees with a laugh.
My hackles rise. Was Melissa always this anal?
"Maybe it's you that's backward," I say. Melissa and several of the others turn and stare at me. Then their eyes glaze over as if I'm not here.
"Did you hear something?" Melissa says to the girl beside her.
The girl shrugs. "No, just a weird buzzing sound. Street noise, I guess."
They turn their backs on me—as if I care.
"One more thing," Stike called as I mounted up. "Keep your eyes open."
"Huh?" Keep them open for what? What did he mean?
"We had a kid last year who ran into some trouble. Some crew didn't appreciate his cleanup. They waited for him one morning and jumpted him. Kid ended up in the hospital." He grinned at me as if he were telling me about some fond memory. "Watch the watchers," he said. "If you think you're attracting some of the wrong attention, you let me know. Crews don't scare Stike."
I had the feeling that not much scared Stike. But the thought of getting jumped by a gang sure scared me. I began to wonder if Dave Marsh had done me a favor after all.
J'ai l'impression qu'il n'y a pas grand-chose qui fasse peur à Stike. Mais moi, l'idée d'être attaqué par un gang me terrifie.
Twigs whipped at Jake's face. Roots leaped up to trip him. He couldn't breath. He glanced back, and a huge shadow lunged out from behind a tree.
"Faster, Tommy!" he yelled.
A boulder appeared in front of him. Jake leaped over it. He dodged around a couple of spruce trees and then plowed through some bushes. The blood pounded in his ears. He didn't care which way he went. He had to get away!
