Free Return of the Jed by Scott Craven Page A

Pine Hollow Middle School, but with better food. And more attentive supervisors.
    My vision began to cloud, and all I wanted to do was sleep. Night-night.
    “Dude, wake up.”
    Luke?
    A slightly damp piece of sandpaper rubbed across the back of neck. It came with a slight stink of death. There it was again, this time across my right ear. A tongue? I turned my face to the right as far as I could.
    “Luke, remember, mouthwash is your friend.”
    No, wait, I knew that smell.
    “Tread, move.” Luke’s voice again, from far away.
    Tread. My faithful dog had come to fetch me. But it was too late, boy. Save yourself. I was headed to a land of rigid bedtimes and strictly enforced dress codes. And it would only be for twenty years or so. At least I could learn a second language.
    “Too late to mess around, so we’re going to do it my way.” Yes, that was definitely Luke.
    Suddenly I was floating. Now this was something I could do just fine with no arms. Everything was so peaceful.
    Until reality came knocking in my brain. Not floating. I was doubled over something uncomfortably narrow. I bounced gently, yet painfully.
    I did not like this, not one bit.
    “Jed, we’re almost there, and you need to snap out of it.”
    “Huh?”
    “Jed, you hear me? Jed? Jed!”
    I opened my eyes to see ground passing quickly under two quickly scissoring legs. Tilting my head up as far as it would go, I got a glimpse of a galloping fur ball.
    Tread. It was Tread. And I was riding atop Luke’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
    “Luke, what—”
    “Good, you’re back, because we seem to be almost there.”
    Almost where? Wait, the light. Held by someone who might or might not want to help.
    We stopped. Shadows flickered on the ground, as if cast by …
    A glow stick.
    “Once we’re on the other side, they’ll never catch us.”
    That wasn’t Luke’s voice, unless he’d taken a hit of helium, which he loved. This was so not the time or place to be playing with helium.
    “But first we need to get your friend and his dog over.” A girl. Not just a girl. The girl from doggy jail.
    “Tread’s easy,” Luke said. I felt myself lowered to the ground, at the base of a stucco wall that looked a mile high. There, near the top, was Tread, being pushed by Luke. Someone else was straddling the wall. He grabbed Tread, and with a high-pitched yip, my dog disappeared.
    “Easy,” Luke said. He looked at me. “Ready to go for a ride?”
    “That would be fun,” I said, because I had no idea what he was talking about.
    I lifted from the ground like a rocket, thrust provided by the many hands gripping my legs and butt. It was a perfect launch, reaching escape velocity in seconds. It was so beautiful.
    But re-entry? Not so much.

Chapter Thirteen
     

     
     
    A pair of unfamiliar arms lifted me to my feet after my hard landing.
    “That is some serious disability,” a girl’s voice said. “But look on the bright side. When you start driving, you’re going to get the best parking spots.”
    “I have arms. Just not with me.” And I planned to reattach them as soon as we were safe.
    “Time to shut up and follow.” So much for small talk.
    We dodged through low brush, moonlight just bright enough to make out the landscape. I picked up the pace to stay closer. Out of the corner of my eye, I picked out a shadow low to the ground, moving alongside me.
    Tread kept up easily, which I expected since he’d only lost his tail, not half his appendages.
    “Almost there,” the girl said as we raced through the desert. For me it was more of a hurried gait, but the girl was kind enough to let me stay within fifteen feet or so.
    Until she disappeared. I had no idea where she went, or where I should go, so I put my head down, leaned forward, and went from quick walk to jog.
    That’s when the ground disappeared. As gravity pulled me down, my mind rushed to explain this particular dilemma. Did the earth just break up with me? Or had I simply left solid