by Chucho Jones
Gentry Davidson
Invaders of Tomorrow's Sky
Book 1 of The Shattered Cosmos
First published by Gentrifiction in 2018
Copyright © Gentry Davidson, 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
First Edition
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Contents
Dedication
Suscribe
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Suscribe
Dedication
To my beloved daughters Victoria and Mia. May you never lose the sense of wonder. ~ Author Chucho Jones
* * *
1
To Cherise, Cai and my family. May you never wonder your common sense. ~ Author Gentry Race
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The World Ahead - Book 2 available March 25th
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1
Chapter 1
Oliver Hawke wore thick-framed glasses that accentuated his disheveled dark hair, and his pleated red tie accessorized his pocket protected shirt. Oliver, just thirteen years old, looked down at his somewhat beaten red chucks while walking down the road alongside Victoria, his so-called babysitter for the night.
Many times, he had dreaded passing the malt shop on his way home, anticipating the serving of bullying remarks and pranks that McCoy and the Silver Wing Academy jocks might play on him.
This time was different.
Victoria’s perfect hair was done in pigtails as the street lights shined over her fiery red hair. It’s all swell, Oliver thought for a moment while closing in on the malt shop.
Exhaust backfired out of the cherry red 1956 Bel Air tailpipe. Bright, colorful glints from the shop rumbled on the candy paint while toxic fumes billowed in the moonlight around Oliver and Victoria as they walked by. He waved away the shroud of smoke, trying to catch a breath of the cool Alpine Lake air.
“Move away; this can’t be good for us,” Oliver said to Victoria.
“Come on, Oli. It’s just the exhaust pipes,” Victoria said, leaning on the back of the muscle car. Victoria was Oliver’s sitter for the night, despite being capable of taking care himself.
“Forget it Vic, he’s a cripple. He doesn’t know cars,” McCoy said as he revved the engine more.
The alpha jock’s letterman jacket matched Victoria’s and Delores’s in a tacky yet unmistakable show of their relationships. The perfect group of friends—a clique almost too perfect, if you asked Oliver.
Oliver sidestepped the next round of smoke to see a young man, a little older than him, sitting at one of the busy tables in a dirty blue uniform and sucking down a large milkshake. On his jumpsuit was a name tag that read “Trevor” just above the ketchup stain from his last bite.
Trevor had always been nice to Oliver, and sometimes it felt like he was his only friend, despite only seeing him at the local malt shop where the five points of town met.
“Oh, look, the looney janitor is here,” McCoy said, laughing to himself.
Victoria gave McCoy a harsh look before turning to look at Oliver. “Why don’t you go talk to him, Oliver?”
He couldn’t help but smirk at her while staring straight at her hazel eyes.
“Yeah, it’d be good for your social studies,” McCoy said.
Oliver brought his shoulders down as he took McCoy’s remarks while walking toward Trevor.
“At least he’s got human decency,” he mumbled to himself.
The local malt shop was the central hangout for everyone in Auroville. Which seemed like a facade—too perfect for its own good. Not since the days of its gold rush had anyone lived here. It was the Silver Wing Flight Academy that changed all that. It was a flight school for the elite, and was where Oliver’s mother, Laura, worked.
“Hey, Trevor,” Oliver said, trying not to sound awkward.
“Well, if it isn’t the town’s genius. How ya’ been?” Trevor said in between huge bites of hamburger. The ketchup slopped down from his face. Trevor sometimes seemed incorrigible to Oliver, yet he didn’t mind it.
“How’s the job?” Oliver asked.
“Same as always. Custodial Engineer at the fridge plant can be quite the adventure.”
Oliver knew Trevor thought the world of his job and didn’t seem to mind the conditions. That fridge plant and the Academy was the only reason why everyone in town was there. It gave them purpose, and it gave Oliver hope that he could one day get out of that town.
“How’s the seizures?” Trevor nonchalantly asked.
“I still have ‘em. They happen about once a month,” Oliver said turning his head to the window as he felt a rush of blood fill his cheeks, his stomach then feeling like lead.
“Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re a cripple. Plain and simple.”
Oliver hated that expression. Ever since his mother and he moved into the Academy’s quarters, things’ hadn’t gone his way, from failed inventions to now episodic seizures. Oliver secretly blamed his mother for keeping him in that God forsaken town. He couldn’t help having mixed feelings about his reason for being there, and thought perhaps the town was the cause for it all.
“Hey, Trevor, do you ever feel like this place is a little off?” Oliver asked with a squinty eye that reflected everything he thought wrong about the town.
Trevor glanced around at the be-bopping hormonal kids in poodle skirts and roller-skates, flirting with each other in hopes of catching a night ride past dead man’s pass. “Oliver, it’s 1956. These kids are bored. Nothing else to do in this town.”
Oliver watched Victoria stand next to McCoy as he tried to embrace her. Victoria pushed him off her, and the group of friends chuckled to each other. Delores frowned to see McCoy more interested in Victoria than her. Oliver couldn’t help getting a glimpse of the action and cackled at McCoy in reaction.
“Hey, you little creep. What did I tell you?” McCoy said as he caught Oliver’s wandering eyes. He pushed Victoria to the side. “I told you not eye at her like that. You’re like twelve.”
Oliver looked away, pretending to ignore the confrontation. He felt the large shadow of the flight trainee tower over him.
“You hear me cripple?” McCoy said again, this time right in Oliver’s face.
“Actually, I’m thirteen and a half,” Oliver said as McCoy gra
bbed him by the tie.
A thunderous sound rumbled from a motorcycle engine just as it pulled up from behind the group. A cool, dapper guy kicked his foot out and down off the bike, engaging the kickstand in one smooth motion.
McCoy recognized Oliver’s uncle on a heavily modified pan head motorcycle. “Well, look who it is. The town’s junky. Leon”
“I told you to drop the act, spaz,” Leon said, walking to the group.
“How about you tell your perverted nephew to keep his eyes off my girl?” McCoy fired back.
“Well, maybe she likes to be heard instead of being with a needle head,” Leon said, firmly staring at Oliver.
“Oh, you mean someone like you? The never-was? Face it, Leon. You’re the joke of the Silver Wings. The so-called ‘Kid Silver’. Why don’t you just leave?”
“I may have never been, but I can still beat you on the ground,” Leon said.
“Bullshit. On that piece of crap pan head?”
Leon paused for a moment. He saw McCoy’s cherry red Chevy. “I’ll tell you what, McBoy. Let’s settle this like men. I’ll ‘Cliff Run’ ya tonight and show you what Oliver’s additions can do.”
Victoria flashed at McCoy with fiery eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”
McCoy ignored Victoria. “What are the stakes?”
“You lose? You take Oliver to Silver Wing Academy’s training grounds for the day and be his best friend,” Leon said.
“Deal. And if I win, you leave Auroville for good,” McCoy said.
“Deal,” Leon said strongly, looking back at Oliver.
Delores cried in excitement from behind. “Yeah! I’m calling it.”
Oliver pulled on Leon just before he got on his bike. “Hey, you don’t have to stick up for me.” The redness returned to his face as he noticed becoming invisible to Victoria, while Leon smiled, almost striking a pose naturally.
“Take a chill pill, frames. I gotcha.”
2
Chapter 2
The dark blue water of the high Alpine Lake reflected the moon’s rays from above in a desaturated glow. Oliver stood at the edge of a high cliff, watching the small swells crash onto the rocky shore below. The ‘Cliff Run’ was not a joke. Dumber teens had died racing their egos. Something that Leon had had to live with as a survivor.
“They’re not going to do this. Right?” Oliver asked Victoria, who stood next to him.
“They will. Sometimes, Leon’s pride gets ahead of him. Although it usually happens at the scrapyard. I’ve never seen him race here,” she said.
Just behind them laid two dirt trails extending back with thick, Alpine Forest on each side. Oliver could see the small crowd cheering and preparing for the race. Delores stood in between the two racers with a scarf in one hand.
Leon planted one foot down, holding his old pan head upright, and flipped various switches that illuminated blue lights throughout the chassis. This awkward tech was Oliver’s, who had invented it as well as helped Leon install it. As he revved the engine into a loud, obnoxious hiss, all the kids covered their ears.
Oliver couldn’t help but feel like he scored some points when he saw Victoria’s reaction to the technology. “Oh, wow. It almost sounds like a Silver Wing,” she shouted over the din.
McCoy looked over, shaking his head as he fired up the 350 block engine that kicked out a roar so loud the crowd lowered in tone.
Delores stood her ground, watching the contenders’ eyes carefully. “All right. Listen up, boys. This is the Cliff Run. No sideswiping. First one to bail? Loses.”
McCoy peered over at Leon once more. “Pack your bags, Leon. You’re about to be toast.”
“You just keep your eyes on the road kid,” Leon said with some muffled concern, gripping his handle bars tight.
Delores held one arm high with the scarf swaying in the cool breeze. “On your mark. Get set. Go!”
Leon cranked on the accelerator, spewing dirt from the rear wheel of his bike. He leaned to the side, angling just a bit and spraying Delores and the cheering crowd in rocky dirt. Oliver watched as the cloud of dust blew up, and McCoy was fast on his tail.
McCoy pulled ahead, dipping up and down on the bumpy trail. The echo of burning machines screamed into the forest, and all Oliver could think about was how the doppler effect was delaying the sound as it approached him. Victoria grabbed onto Oliver, her vanilla scent stronger than ever as it wrapped around him.
He would thank Leon for that moment as soon as he could.
Halfway down the dirt tracks now, McCoy yelled, “Told you! You never-was!”
Leon flipped another switch and rocket propulsers unfolded from the manifold, firing away. Leon closed the gap in half a second and watched McCoy’s face turn white in surprise.
McCoy, now angrier than ever, punched the throttle as hard as he could. The Chevy roared to life with even more fury but couldn’t pick up speed. McCoy looked at the approaching cliff and over at Leon’s pan head motorcycle as it pulled away.
“I’m out of here,” McCoy said, bailing out of the car.
Oliver watched McCoy hit the ground tumbling, and Leon pulled back, feeling the victory. The red Chevy sailed in the rocky grooves of the trail toward the cliff.
“He did it!” Victoria yelled.
The red Chevy wobbled a few seconds just as it jumped over the grove heading straight toward Oliver and Victoria. Leon, without hesitating, took off on his modded bike, catching the cherry red hot rod just in time. The unmanned car fought his old bike as he tried to keep it on course.
Oliver pulled Victoria into the forest just as Leon and the red Chevy passed them and over the cliffside. Victoria slipped a few feet down the hill, but Oliver grabbed her hand and pulled her back to safety.
“Leon!” Oliver screamed, shooting to his feet.
He scrambled to edge to see the red Chevy sinking in the water and no sign of Leon. He noticed ripples from the center of the lake, just as the flat nose of a rocket ship exited the surface.
The cold water of the lake ran down the sides of an unmistakable logo that read “F.A.M.I.L.Y.“. Oliver was stunned. He watched the fiery rockets push the large ship up higher and higher before disappearing outside of the atmosphere.
“Where is Leon?” Victoria asked running up from behind.
“Did you see that?” Oliver asked, as if he’d seen a ghost.
“See what? How you threw me down a hill?”
“The ship? The light? It read F.A.M.I.L.Y.,” Oliver said.
“That was the car and your uncle going over the cliff, dummy,” she said.
The crowd ran to edge side just as Oliver and Victoria emerged from the woods. McCoy watched Oliver in disdain as he held her hand.
“Look, it’s Leon,” a teen said, pointing to Leon floating below.
Oliver could not believe he survived. He focused closer on his uncle’s expression. The older man was smiling back at Oliver as he swam.
3
Chapter 3
The local air strip served as the training grounds for the Silver Wing Academy. Only the elite, the best of the best, got in to see the grounds.
Victoria still remembered her first day as a junior cadet. She would always excel in combat training, thanks to the strict regime that her father, General Banks, would make her endure. He would claim it was for her own good and would help her with the element of surprise.
She couldn’t help but think back to her first day, as Oliver and she walked the barracks’ gravel roads.
“Thanks for pushing this, Vee,” Oliver said.
“Listen, Oli, I had to pull some strings with my dad to make this happen. So, just be cool and do what you’re told. Unless it’s McCoy,” Victoria said.
“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been inside official facilities,” Oliver replied.
Victoria couldn’t help feeling a small rush every time Oliver got a confidence boost on account of his unmatched ingenuity.
Oliver watched the large fence open
for him as the guard gave him a stern nod. Just on the other side of the gate was Dave McCoy. His uniform was freshly pressed and only surpassed in perfection by his perfect hair and slick shined boots.
“Let’s do this, square,” McCoy said.
“Face it, McCoy. You lost fair and square. You bailed on your car,” Victoria said, smiling.
Oliver acknowledged McCoy’s annoyance. “Thanks for showing me around. I have had some theories as to why you train here.”
“Theories?” McCoy asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, like this is an undercover operation, and they’re trying to figure out alien variables in their studies,” Oliver said plainly.
McCoy erupted in laughter. “Aliens? You’ve been reading too many Bald Eagle comic books, nerd.”
Oliver followed McCoy along the main path, disregarding his comment. He watched groups of cadets exercise as they ran in formation around the neatly trimmed lawn. The main facility emerged in Oliver’s sight.
I just need to see inside to confirm my theory. Where are the aliens?
McCoy stopped mid-step and proceeded to the lawn where the cadets were exercising. He picked up football and began to hit it with his other hand in a firm grip.
“Hey, aren’t we going inside?” Oliver asked.
“Nope. The deal was to be your friend for the day, and I like to play football with my friends. So, here. Catch. I’m gonna feed you sports like you feed my girl that science crap,” McCoy said, firing a spiral into Oliver’s chest.
