Broken Sky

Chapter Five

Saturday – Three Days to Newton

Jack ran his fingers across the length of the metal blade, trying to decide if the rough spot was a scratch or just dirt.

His worksite that Saturday afternoon was on the shady south slope of a pine-covered hill sixty miles west of Fairview and five miles from the nearest road. His workbench was a folding platform mounted to the truck's side, and the drone he was repairing had crashed several days ago after the wind blew it into the trees.

He glanced at the cracked fuselage. More like someone flew it directly into a tree at high speed. The damage to the plastic shell was minor, but two of the aircraft's rotors had snapped. He'd already replaced those and was examining a third when his text alert sounded.

<Hey, watch this.> A message from Chase appeared next to his Surfer Dude avatar.

This is not going to end well, Jack thought as he joined the chat room.

Chase's video—recorded from a helmet-mounted camera—began with him sitting on his bike at the top of a steep mound of compacted earth.

He pushed off. The ground rushed up at the camera. There was a jolt as he hit the base of the next ramp, a glimpse of blue sky above, and then he was airborne. He kept the view centered on his landing zone as he performed a tailwhip. It looked like it would be clean, but he landed short, digging his front wheel into the loose soil at the top of the pile. He went down with a sound somewhere between a cough and bark.

The motion blurred as he tumbled in the dirt. When he finally stopped, several pairs of feet ran up to the camera, now lying sideways at ground level. Someone asked, "You okay?" Chase's strained voice replied, "I'm good." The video ended.

<Ouch.> A string of text appeared. <Did you break anything?> This was a response from Sarah. Her avatar winced.

<Nah, just bent a few spokes.>

<I meant bones, actually.>

<Oh, yeah. My arm. I totally broke that.>

<Are you serious?> This line was from Jada. She changed her avatar regularly, and today it was a seated golden buddha. Its stunned expression was way out of character.

Chase's image appeared, his forearm and wrist in a blue cast. As always, he wore a goofy smile. He also had a wide scrape on his chin, which improved the appearance of the wispy goatee he was trying to grow. <It's okay, I can still ride.>

Jada's avatar rolled its eyes. An additional Face Palm emoji slid past.

Jack frowned and double-checked his phone's settings. He normally set its emotion detector to block reactions his friends might be offended by, but Jada believed a text conversation should be unfiltered. He'd received eye-roll and not-amused emojis from her many times.

He pressed and held Chase's avatar—the gesture to send a private message. "You don't want Jada upset at you again." His words appeared on his screen as he spoke. "She might not help you with your assignments if your arm hasn't healed." A yellow triangle with an exclamation mark popped up in the suggestion box. Jack nodded his approval; the Caution emoji joined the text.

<It's okay. You know she can't resist me.> A Sunglasses emoji glided into place. Not surprisingly, Chase had replied publicly and his words went to everyone in the group.

<Resist you?> Jada's unfiltered emoji showed her irritation. <What's that supposed to mean, Jack?>

Chase's avatar laughed silently. <You're busted.>