by A J McKeep
With a sigh, he realized, his only option was to keep hold of them and not give them to him at all at school. Hold them until that evening and arrange to meet. And spend all day with weapons in his pack that would be super illegal, even if they weren’t unCert tech.
It felt to Joel like the board was making about sixty six miles per hour. There was no way to know for sure without instruments on. If he put on the dials, gauges and navigation, he wouldn’t have enough juice to get him all the way to school. He’d have to skate the last few hundred yards with wheel trucks down.
For Joel it was a point of pride to sweep into the schoolyard and still be on air when he flipped up the scuffed and battered board. He would know the average speed from the timer on his tablet, but he didn’t have a tracker set for speed sampling.
As he stopped in the schoolyard, he said, “Honey have you left yet? You’re going to be late, aren’t you?”
“Mom says I have to wait.”
“Wait? What for?”
“Joel,” her voice dropped. “The drones. They’re here.”
“You don’t think…” he couldn’t think of a way to say it. They couldn’t be here for her. Surely not. That was impossible.
“Joel, I don’t know. First mom says I have to wait. Now this.”
“I have to go in to school.” He heard the crack in his voice. He wished he’d spoken to her just a minute earlier. He would have detoured and gone straight to her place. Now he was already in the yard. He’d been seen.
She sounded calm, “I know. It will all be fine. I’m sure it will, Joel. Don’t worry.”
“No. Sure. I’ll connect at first break.”
“Don’t worry, okay?”
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