Neal Shusterman - Everwild

"Look at that thing!" Johnnie-O said, staring at the massive craft. "It's just standing there in midair!"

The orbiter and its rocket assembly were indeed floating about a hundred and fifty feet in the air. Nick knew there had once been a launchpad beneath it, but the shuttle launchpad was on tractor treads, and had long since been rolled away. "It's resting on the memory of a launchpad," Nick told him.

"Wonder what Mary would have to say about that."

Nick put on his best Mary voice. "In all things postmortem, the stubbornness of memory outweighs the so-called laws of physics. Best to report any antigravitational sightings to an authority."

Johnnie-O stared at him. "You're scary."

A closer inspection of the suspended spacecraft revealed that there was a rickety scaffold right beside it, just a few feet wide, and randomly pieced together. It looked more like a vertical beaver dam, stretching up to the engines, and clinging to the craft itself, all the way up to the orbiter's hatch. There was also something else on the huge deadspot beneath the suspended craft. Something that shouldn't be there at all.

"That's… a dog…" said Nick.

"Well, I can see that."

But Johnnie-O didn't quite get it. The dog had been barking nonstop for the past few minutes. Nick was used to tuning out barking dogs, just like most other sounds of the living world. But this dog wasn't part of that world. It was here in Everlost. It was barking at them.

The dog was some kind of unholy mismatched genetic mutt. Something like Rottweiler, crossed with Pomeranian. It was both huge and annoying at the same time.

"Wait a second!" said Johnnie-O, one beat behind. "That dog's in Everlost!"

The Pomerrott mutt was chained to a spike in the middle of the deadspot. Which meant someone had to put it there. Johnnie-O still couldn't wrap his mind around it. "But… but, there are no dogs here. You know what they say, 'All dogs go to heaven,' right? Right?"

"Not this one. Maybe dog heaven took one look at it and sent it back."

Just then another sound cut between the Pomerrott's barks. It sounded like a loud snapping twig. Nick realized it was a gunshot the same instant the bullet caught him in the eye. It spun him around and knocked him to the ground. Chocolate splattered the underbrush and the Pomerrott barked like there was no tomorrow.

Johnnie-O screamed and ducked for cover. So much for him being a bodyguard. Not that Nick needed protection from bullets. He pushed himself up on all fours, blinked a few times, and the painless "wound" healed itself closed. In a few moments, his eye returned to normal. He had been caught off guard, that's all-in Everlost, a sniper is little more than a nuisance. Still there's nothing fun about being shot in the eye. He looked at the chocolate splattered around him, and wondered whether it had just splattered off of his face or come from inside when the bullet hit him? Were his insides turning to chocolate as well? He tried not to think about it, because thinking about it too much would make it so.

Johnnie-O, quickly remembering his own relative invulnerability, stood up and looked toward the spacecraft looming before them. "Whoever it is, he's going down!"

Nick stood up, hearing the crack of a second shot. This one caught him square in the chest, but since he was ready, he didn't let it throw him off balance. This time he could hear where the shot had come from. Up high. There was a rifle barrel poking out of the ship's hatch, taking aim for a third shot. Nick waited until the fabric of his tie healed closed before he spoke.

"If you're going to shoot at me," Nick shouted, "at least have the guts to come out where I can see you!"

No response but the barking of the dog. Nick strode forward with Johnnie-O right behind, clenching his fists, ready to pound their assailant into pork and beans. A third shot rang out, but missed both of them. Clearly the shooter was losing focus-maybe getting worried that they might reach the scaffold and climb up-which is exactly what Nick planned to do.

Finally a voice called down to them-the voice of a kid-their age, maybe younger.

"Get outta here! Go on! Nobody wants you here!"

"Nobody?" said Nick. "You mean you're not alone?"

"They's a whole buncha us up here. Yeah! A dozen at least. So go on, get lost a'fore we come down and make ya sorry y'got yerselfs kilt in the first place!"

"Prove it," said Nick. "If it's more than just you, let's hear from one of the others."

The kid was quiet for a moment, then said, "I don't gotta prove nuthin'! I gots the gun and you don't!"

He shot again, and the bullet caught Johnnie-O in the shoulder. Quickly, Johnnie-O reached in and pulled out the bullet before the wound zipped closed, then, holding the bullet between his fingers, yelled up at the unseen sniper. "When I get up there, I'm gonna make you eat this!"

"Yeah? Well I'm gonna make Kudzu eat you! Go on, Kudzu. Eat 'em up an' spit their chewed-up pieces down there where the sun don't shine 'cept on Sunday." The second they reached the deadspot beneath the hanging ship, however, the wild Pomerrott pooch whimpered and retreated as far as its chain would allow. So much for Kudzu. Nick grabbed the scaffold and shook it. It rattled like it might fall apart at any second. The thing was made mostly of chair legs, bicycle tires, and balcony railings- basically anything this kid could tie together with bits of string.

"We'll climb up the left side," Nick said. "He won't be able to get a good angle on us that way. Climbing was rough at first, but they quickly got the hang of it. As they passed the orbiter's massive engines, the kid tried to shoot again, but his bullet ricocheted off a rusty bed frame in the scaffold's infrastructure. The bullet's shell casing dropped from above, bouncing off of Johnnie-O's head. "I've never seen bullets come through into Everlost," Johnnie-O said. "At least not on their own. Do you suppose they were ripped?"

Nick decided to keep his opinion to himself-although he was pretty sure that they had found Zach the Ripper.

One more missed shot, and the ripper closed the hatch, shutting himself in. Nick and Johnnie-O continued to climb, trying not to look down.

"If we fall, we'll just land on the deadspot. We'll be okay," said Nick.

"Yeah… unless we miss."

"Maybe we can land on Kudzu," suggested Nick, since the dog had begun barking again.

As they neared the top, the scaffold became thinner and harder to climb, until they finally reached the closed cockpit door. The Ripper showed no signs of coming out. "We'll force our way in!" said Johnnie-O.

"No. It's an airtight hatch-there's no way to get in from the outside."

"So what are we gonna do?" grunted Johnnie-O. "Just let him sit in there? He'll never come out."

Nick looked up toward the orbiter's viewport, but it was out of view. There was no window on the shuttle that could give the Ripper a view of them.

"Ever watch a turtle that has pulled into its shell?" Nick asked Johnnie-O. "How do you get it to come out again?"

Johnnie-O considered it, and understood what Nick was suggesting. The question was how long could the two of them wait right outside that door? How long could they quietly cling to the scaffold?

While Afterlights tended to develop an unnatural patience for the passage of time, it usually accompanied some pleasurable activity. It could be something as simple as jumping rope, or as complex as a chess marathon; it all depended on the person. However, sitting in absolute silence on the top of a scrap-metal scaffold was enough to drive even the most patient Afterlight stir-crazy. Johnnie-O would occasionally open his mouth to ask a question, or just to complain, but Nick always shushed him before the words were spoken. Eventually Kudzu either forgot they were there, or had decided they were a part of the scaffold. Either way, he finally stopped barking.