The rebel by Melinda Metz

Author:Melinda Metz [Melinda Metz]
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult Fiction
ISBN: 9780743408905
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2000-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

Alex slid into bed, his own bed, with the dip in the middle that fit his body perfectly. I'm home, he thought for probably the fifty-second time that day:

He didn't expect to be able to sleep-at least not right away: He figured his brain was crammed with way too much info-about his dad and Trevor, mainly: But when Alex's head sank down into his soft, goose-down pillow and he closed his eyes, he immediately felt that slipping-sliding wooziness he always got when he was just about to go under.

The next thing he knew, he was falling. No, not falling, being hurled-down, down, down. His velocity pushed the flesh of his cheeks back toward his ears, curled his top lip toward his nose.

Alex clawed at the air, grasping for something to stop him. But there was nothing but the void all around him as he flew down, faster and faster.

He could feel the pressure building internally. His bladder and stomach felt weighted down. Each beat of his heart seemed to take massive effort, as did each breath he pulled into his burning lungs.

He was in a wormhole.

You're dreaming, Alex told himself. You're home in bed.

But the thought didn't jar him awake.

He felt suction coming from behind him, pulling him backward. But the other force was still hurtling him straight down.

Alex heard his bones creak as his body stretched out, thrown forward and hauled back simultaneously. A gash opened up on his stomach. He felt a rush of hot blood. Then a matching gash opened on his back.

He was being ripped apart. And he was powerless to stop it.

He opened his mouth and screamed. Then his whole body jerked, and he sat up fast-hyperawake.

His heart was pounding so hard, he could feel the beats in his throat and ears and temples. He lowered himself back down. The sheet under his back was damp with sweat.

He hoped he hadn't screamed out loud. His little talk with the Major had been very cool. He didn't want the good feeling between them to evaporate because he'd woken up hollering like a baby:

You're in your room. You're safe. Your body's still in one piece. Just get a grip, he ordered himself. His heartbeat slowed down a little. But when his eyes adjusted to the darkness, it kicked right bad into high gear.

He wasn't alone. Someone stood in the shadows near his dresser.

Alex slowly, shakily slipped his hand out of the covers. He reached under the bed, feeling for his Louisville slugger, keeping his eyes locked on the motionless figure. After he wrapped his fingers around the bat's smooth wooden handle, he tensed his muscles, preparing himself to spring.

But suddenly the intruder was gone.

Not out the door. Not out the window. Just gone.

It had to be Trevor, he thought. When he saw that I saw him, he teleponed out of here.

Alex jumped out of bed. Did Trevor get the Stone?

He clicked on the overhead light and grabbed the peanut butter jar filled with marbles off his dresser. He dumped the marbles onto his bed, cursing as a bunch of them hit the floor.

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