Buku The Obsoletes by Simeon Mills

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The Obsoletes by Simeon Mills

Author:Simeon Mills

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Gallery Books

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The Obsoletes by Simeon Mills

17

HAIR FRIZZING OUT THE BACK of her enormous bike helmet, Brooke sped past Kanga. She swerved through the school parking lot and onto the road. If only a teacher had glanced out a window, this abduction would have been stopped. I stood beside my bike, watching Kanga and Brooke get smaller and smaller.

Just before they vanished, I began to follow them.

 

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Coming of Age

The Obsoletes by Simeon Mills

Author:Simeon Mills , Date: June 11, 2019

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Author:Simeon Mills

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Gallery Books
17

HAIR FRIZZING OUT THE BACK of her enormous bike helmet, Brooke sped past Kanga. She swerved through the school parking lot and onto the road. If only a teacher had glanced out a window, this abduction would have been stopped. I stood beside my bike, watching Kanga and Brooke get smaller and smaller.

Just before they vanished, I began to follow them.

Brooke led the way, steering us toward the center of Hectorville. I’d imagined them going in the opposite direction, to the countryside, which had fewer people to call the police about a pair of kids not being in school—or whatever Kanga had planned for Brooke. It was a mild afternoon, with the occasional roadside snowdrift to remind us it was February. Two birds spoke to each other from different trees. I watched Brooke’s shoes rise and fall as she pedaled standing up, her calf muscles hardened in her white leggings. She had left Kanga far behind. She skidded to a stop and yelled, “You suck at riding bikes!”

Kanga took his time catching up. “Maybe I do.”

“No. You do.” She grinned. “I’m fast, and you suck.”

They were looking down at the same patch of asphalt between them, sharing it, as if it were reflecting their faces up at each other. I was a hundred yards back, hiding behind a bush, all my battery power shunted to my audio processors. The key to being a spy was following your target at a distance, sprinting between areas of cover. When they finally resumed, Kanga pushed off first, followed by Brooke. I pedaled up to a truck, then a tree, keeping my ears on them, keeping my body out of sight. They rode together at a steady pace, passing Hectorville Funeral Parlor. Brooke said, “I’ll bet you five hundred bucks . . .”

Kanga waited for her to finish. She didn’t. He said, “Okay.”

“Forget it! No deal!”

Up the road was a church of some denomination. Kanga and I had ridden our bikes past this church every day on our way to school, but I had never read the name on the church. I just knew it was a church because it had a steep roof, a cross, colored windows, and a giant parking lot. I was riding my bike too close to them. The crackling of their tires was nearly as loud as mine, so I let more distance go between us. Brooke wobbled on her bike. She was staring off into space and barely missed a parked car.

“Tell me where you went after our first game,” said Kanga. “When you were gone.”

Brooke stuck out her tongue at him. “I’m not supposed to tell.”

Kanga picked up the pace. He stood on the pedals of his bike and raced ahead of her. He didn’t even look back when she was two blocks behind him. He stopped and waited. When she finally reached him, he said, “Tell me where you went, Brooke.”

“To buy a battery for my computer. Promise you won’t tell anybody.”

“I promise.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Ypsilanti. I took my dad’s car and drove it fine.

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