D. MacHale - SYLO

The only sign that there had been an accident were the tire marks on the lawn.

“What the hell?” I said with a gasp.

Where I was stunned, Tori seemed totally freaked by the scene and sprinted for her scooter.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Where are you going?”

She jumped onto the scooter, fired the engine, and sped off without saying a word.

“You’re welcome,” I called after her.

She didn’t hear. Or didn’t care. In a few seconds she was gone and the park was quiet once again.

It took me a minute or so to get my head back together enough to remember how to move my feet. I went straight home, rolling over in my head the two different events I had just witnessed. As much as the attack on Tori was frightening, in some small way it made sense. I had no doubt that Gary had been introduced to the Ruby because of his over-the-top energy and the fact that he moved with inhuman speed. It was wrong, but explainable. What disturbed me more was seeing the SYLO soldiers chase down and Taser that mom-looking lady. Everything I had heard was that those soldiers were here to protect us. But from what? Ladies who rolled through stop signs? The fact that they zapped her and dragged her away in handcuffs like some escaped prisoner seemed pretty extreme. What could she possibly have done to deserve that?

The event was so disturbing that I couldn’t bring myself to tell anybody about it. I had to hold on to the idea that SYLO was there to help us. I mean, President Neff told us so. What else could I believe? Before pointing fingers and making accusations, I wanted to know more about what was happening. But I had no idea how to do that.

The rest of the week passed without any more disturbing events, unless you count the fact that Pemberwick Island had become the butt of jokes for every comic on TV. “Looking for a hot vacation spot?” Jay Leno asked. “Try Pemberwick Island. You’ll never vacation anywhere else…because they won’t let you leave!” We even made David Letterman’s Top Ten list of reasons to vacation on Pemberwick Island. “Number one: Free CAT scan with every cup of delicious, creamy chowder.”

I might have thought the jokes were funny if I lived anywhere else. Letterman’s line wasn’t even that far from the truth. Every person on the island was required to go to the town hall and give a blood sample. When my family went, I recognized several of the CDC people who had gotten off the troop transport under Granger’s cold glare. It felt a little creepy to have to give blood, mostly because we weren’t given a choice. But if they were trying to isolate a potentially deadly virus and feared that some people were genetically predisposed to contracting it, then I guess it would be stupid not to get tested.

It was one test I desperately wanted to ace.

In spite of the CDC’s bloodletting, Arbortown had started to feel close to normal. The tourists were poking out of their rooms and beginning to go back to the shops and restaurants. And why not? There was nothing else to do and the government was picking up the tab. I even saw people posing for pictures on the pier while pointing to the warship that sat ominously off shore. It was a surreal experience. A thin veil of normalcy had returned, though we all feared that just below the surface was a truth that we didn’t necessarily want to learn.

On Wednesday the announcement was made that there would be a football game on Saturday morning. We were scheduled to play Memagog High, from the other side of the island, in November, but under the circumstances the date was moved up. Captain Granger made the announcement on TV, saying that it would be good for everyone to get out and enjoy a game; and since there were actually two teams on Pemberwick, we were nominated to be the day’s entertainment. I guess that made sense. It wasn’t like either team could travel off the island, so why not play each other? My only problem was that with nothing else happening on the island, the game was sure to be a sellout. That meant I’d have an even bigger crowd to witness my lame attempt to fill Marty’s shoes.

I tried to talk to Tori a few times at school, but she avoided me and it was starting to tick me off. I had stood in front of a raging, armed maniac to protect her; the least she could do was acknowledge that I existed. I tried not to let it bug me and turned my focus to the challenge at hand…Memagog High.

Saturday came up fast. The game was on our home field because our stadium was twice as big as Memagog Field. It turned out to be a wise move. When we came out on the field for warmups, the stands were already packed. I’d never seen that before, even when there was a county championship on the line. It seemed as though everyone on Pemberwick had shown up because we were the only game in town. Literally.

As exciting as this was, there was an ominous touch. Armed SYLO soldiers casually circled the field. They walked in pairs, keeping an eye on the crowd. They seemed to want to keep a low profile, but it was hard to miss them. None went into the stands. They weren’t there to watch the game…their eyes were on the people.

Kent was in his glory. During warmups, he ran around the sidelines, screaming things like: “This is our house! Nobody messes with our house!” It was all totally clichéd football psych stuff that was more for the crowd than for us.

When warmups finished, I jogged back to our locker room under the bleachers. Glancing up to the crowd, I saw Mom and Dad give me a thumbs-up. I also noticed that many people were wearing surgical masks, a grim reminder that we might all catch something deadly. I did a quick scan of the bleachers, looking for Mr. Feit. I didn’t see him but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. The crowd was too big for me to see everybody.

One person I didn’t miss was Olivia because she was standing near the tunnel to the locker room. It was a warm morning and she looked incredibly cute in an Arbortown Wildcats T-shirt (that I’m sure Kent gave her) and mini jean shorts.

“Tucker!” she called, waving me over.

I took off my helmet and went to her.

“How’re you doing?” I asked.

“As good as anybody, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “It’s weird being here without my mother. It’s weird being here at all.”

“I hear you,” I said.

“I haven’t seen you all week,” she said.

It was my turn to shrug. “I’ve been keeping a low profile.”

“I miss you.”

She did? I couldn’t think fast enough to say something clever in return.

“Do me a favor?” she asked.

“Sure.”

She leaned forward and gave me a big kiss. Right on the lips. It wasn’t one of those friendly pecks-from-your-aunt kisses either. This was like…a real kiss. It’s not like I hadn’t kissed a girl before. I had. Once or twice. Or once. But Olivia was a couple of years older than me and, well, she knew what she was doing. In that one brief instant, I forgot all about the game. And SYLO and the Ruby and the mysterious exploding shadow. What can I say?

After a few seconds, she pulled back and gave me a sweet smile that was even more electrifying than the kiss. I blinked, cleared my throat, and croaked, “Uh, and what exactly is the favor?”

She touched my cheek and said, “Make me proud.”

I instantly went from the height of ecstasy to the depths of despair. Olivia had opened the door wide for me to impress her and maybe start a real relationship that held the promise of more kissing like that. But there was no way in hell that I could deliver on that favor. That door would slam shut two seconds after I was handed the ball for the first time.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said with about as much casual cool as I could muster…which wasn’t a whole lot.