The Flight of the Silvers by Daniel Pricedaniel Price

Author:Daniel Pricedaniel Price [Price, Daniel Pricedaniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Apocalyptic & Post-Apocalyptic, Science Fiction, Action & Adventure, General, Fantasy
ISBN: 9781101620045
Google: k7f8ngEACAAJ
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 20879020
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2014-02-04T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-ONE

The Power Boy chargery crackled with life, a pocket of activity in a bare patch of Kansas. Two hundred travelers ambled the station, stretching limbs and killing time while their vehicles drank from electric wells. The plaza offered two diners, four stores, an arcade, and a mini-theater. It also sported a tea lift, a diversion so unique that Zack nearly drove off the freeway gawking at it.

While the van replenished at a generator, the Silvers split up and wandered in pairs. Only Zack and Theo chose to brave the antigravity madness of the tea lift. They were loaded into a two-seat metal cup, which rose ten stories into the sky on a remote-controlled saucer of aeris. Despite the panorama of sun-drenched plains, Zack and Theo couldn’t take their eyes off the other riders—twenty cups of people, all floating through the air in a slow and synchronous halo.

Theo saw Zack’s stupefied expression and raised him a jagged chuckle. “This is some Willy Wonka shit right here.”

“I know. My inner physicist is sobbing right now. He demands we plummet.”

“Why did we do this again, Zack?”

“Oh, you know. When in Rome . . .”

“. . . fall as the Romans fell?”

The cartoonist shrugged. “We can’t be country rubes forever. If this is what they do at gas stations, just imagine their theme parks.”

An electronic chirping sound emanated from Zack’s pocket. He retrieved his handphone and checked the screen. Amanda Calling.

He answered her with a grin. “Hey. You’ll never guess where we are.”

“I know where you are. I saw you in line. You’re both crazy.”

“You should try it. It’s amazing.”

“Yeah, no thanks. I’m just making sure you’re not holding each other and screaming.”

“Well, we’re not screaming.”

Amanda laughed. “Just try not to die, okay? I don’t like driving the van.”

“Where are you now?”

“At the base of the statue.”

He peered down at the thirty-foot sculpture of Power Boy—a chubby blond tyke with button eyes and an electric-blue superhero outfit. Two black-haired women stood at the feet of the eyesore. Even from a hundred feet up, Zack could see Hannah’s fidgety agitation. He was starting to share Amanda’s concerns about her.

“Yeah. I see you. Stay there. We’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Two days ago, Zack had purchased six handphones from an Arizona vendor, all bare-bones models that were prepaid for a generous amount of usage.

On Wednesday afternoon, shortly after the van crossed into New Mexico, Hannah’s screen lit up with a chain of malevolent texts. The sender was only identified as A. Sonnet.

Hey Hannah Banana, Always-Needs-a-Man-a. I guess you found Jury in your pants.

He would have entered your knickers a hell of a lot quicker if I hadn’t messed with events.

In previous times, he was the pearl in your clam. You were the honey on his plantain.

Wherever we stayed, it was always the same. We’d all hear your screwings. Your melodious oohings.

It was not meant to be, unfortunately. He adored you, I assure you, but he always died before you. :(

You’d cry at the dirt in your little black skirt and you’d swear to us you loved him.

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