Arcade Catastrophe Page 2

His dad stepped into the room, admitting more light as the door opened all the way. “Why’s your window open?”

“I was hot,” Roman invented desperately, trying to act calm. Although it seemed physically impossible, somehow Marisa had still made no noise. “I was bored.”

His dad crossed to the window and looked out. Roman’s stomach clenched with worry. How would his dad react when he saw Marisa out there?

But his dad turned away from the window as if he had seen nothing. “You weren’t thinking of climbing out there?”

“What? No way! I’m grounded. Besides, there’s no way down.” There really wasn’t. Not without a ladder. Had Marisa brought a ladder?

“Climbing onto roofs in the dark is a good way to break your neck.”

“I know. I was just stir-crazy. I wanted some air.”

His dad nodded. “All right. I guess I can understand that. You’re supposed to be in bed, you know, but at least your light was off.”

“I wasn’t reading or anything,” Roman said. “Just restless.”

“I get why you’re restless. I’m sure this has felt like a long week. Still, a punishment is no good unless it gets enforced. Hang in there.”

“I will,” Roman said. He walked over to shut the window. Glancing out as casually as possible, he caught no glimpse of Marisa. After closing the window, Roman returned to his bed.

Roman’s dad walked to the door. “Get some sleep.”

“I will. Good night.”

“Night.”

The door closed, leaving the room dark aside from the soft light coming from the face of Roman’s digital clock and the diffused light seeping through the window. Roman waited quietly, letting the minutes pass.

How had Marisa escaped? How had she done it so quietly? He could only imagine that she had dived off the roof. Which meant that Marisa might currently be sprawled on his driveway with a broken neck.

If she had been willing to climb to his window in the middle of the night, the jet club must really be cool. Chris had insisted that earning the stamp was worth it, and apparently Risa agreed. Roman gripped his covers tightly. Risa had even offered to give him money so he could keep earning tickets.

So far Roman had spent all of his personal savings earning prize tickets—more than four hundred dollars. The money had come from the little safe on his dresser, the one with the words PRIVATE FUND printed across the back. The money belonged to him, but, except for minor purchases, he was only supposed to spend it with permission. For more than a week before he was grounded, Roman had turned twenties into tokens until he had nothing left. When his parents had caught him, Arcadeland had been forbidden, and his week as an inmate had begun.

Could he really go back there? Chris had promised that the jet stamp would change his life, and Risa was backing him up.

The house remained quiet. After retrieving his flashlight, Roman crept to the window and opened it. He stepped out onto the roof, the shingles creaking noisily. Again he wondered how Marisa had stayed so silent.

Clicking on the flashlight, he scanned the empty driveway, finding no paralyzed bodies. “Marisa?” he whispered loudly. “Risa? You out there?”

There came no reply.

Roman climbed back into his room, stashed the flashlight, put his drawing pad and pencils away, and then returned to bed. With his mind so full of worries and questions, there was no longer any need to draw.

He had blown his savings at an arcade. No huge deal, right? He was only a kid. There would be plenty of time to earn more.

Still, it was all the money he had saved for his entire life, and he had made his parents angry by sneakily spending it. All to earn a cheesy stamp. The jet stamp had to include amazing perks, or else why would it be worth so many tickets?

Chris was a smart kid, and he had remained adamant. He had insisted that the rewards of the stamp were way cooler than a free lifetime supply of Arcadeland tokens, tons better than free lifetime Arcadeland food and drinks. Chris had promised that Roman would thank him forever. Now Risa too.

Roman pressed his cheek into his pillow. He had no savings left. He had gotten grounded for a week of his precious summer vacation. But if Marisa and Chris would put up the money for him to keep earning tickets, Roman knew he had to go back to Arcadeland.

Chapter One

Dead Man’s Run

Straddling his bike, Nate stared down the long slope. He had heard older kids call it Dead Man’s Run. The name seemed appropriate. Rutted by tires and rainfall, the dirt track wound down a steep hillside, skirting sheer edges much of the way. From his current vantage point, some stretches of the path seemed to drop almost vertically. The idea of walking down Dead Man’s Run made him uncomfortable, let alone riding a bike.

“Look at her go,” Pigeon murmured. Hair buzzed to a uniform bristle, he stood beside Nate, clutching the handlebars of a shabby bike.

Protected by a helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, and gloves, Summer raced fearlessly down the trail on a rusty mountain bike. She reached a long, straight, steep portion of the trail that swooped directly into a banked turn. They had scouted the path beforehand, and Nate knew that a fairly high cliff was hidden just beyond the bend.

Crouching forward, Summer pedaled hard down the slope, gaining way too much speed. There was no chance of making the turn. Instead, Summer used the angled bank as a ramp, hitting it straight on at full speed and then launching into the air.

Once airborne, she kicked away from her bike, sailing higher and farther than the laws of physics should have allowed as the bike tumbled out of view. Her gliding trajectory was possible only thanks to the Moon Rock in her mouth. The candy reduced the effect of gravity on her, although it did not entirely erase the pull, as was proved when Summer gradually curved out of view.

“Think she’ll be okay?” Lindy asked.

“We’ll know in a minute,” Pigeon said, holding up his walkie-talkie. He pressed the talk button. “How does she look?”

“She won’t make it all the way to me,” Trevor replied. “She’ll clear most of the slope. What a jump! She’s waiting to bite, cutting it close. Okay, she froze just in time. She did it perfectly, just before hitting the ground. Still frozen. Still frozen. Now she’s down. She’s fine. Over.”

“Let us know when she reaches you.”

“Will do.”

Nate was glad to hear that Summer had timed her bite right. Earlier in the summer, through accidental experimentation, they had discovered that biting a Moon Rock temporarily froze you in space, no matter how fast or slow you were moving at the time. The knowledge came in handy. Even with reduced gravity, if you fell a long way, you could eventually build up enough speed to really hurt yourself.

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