The gear was still messed up, so the bike was slow to pedal and made a scraping noise as Leo rode. Leo winced every time the metal scraped against metal, but he didn’t know what else to do. It would take hours to walk back into town.
The road that led to Fullerton was rarely used, winding through woods and farmland. Dense woodland lined both sides of the road, with a stretch of tall grass between the road and the forest. Leo hoped somebody would come along and offer to give him a ride.
But nobody drove by. Nobody at all.
Leo stopped and looked behind him, then up ahead. The road was empty. He had been biking for about fifteen minutes and not a single vehicle had passed. This area was quiet, but it was unusual for the road to get no traffic at all.
A few minutes later, Leo turned around a bend and saw a truck stopped in the lane. It wasn’t even pulled over—it was stopped dead. A big, heavyset man was walking around the truck, waving his arms. As Leo got closer, he heard the man ranting.
“Not a thing works,” the man was muttering to himself. “What is going on?”
He finally noticed Leo. “Hey!” he slapped on a friendly smile. “I’m in a bit of a pickle here. Do you have a working phone?”
Leo shook his head. “Mine is dead.” He dropped his feet to the ground but stayed seated on the bike.
“Figures,” the guy said. “Can’t get the truck started or my phone to work.”
Leo thought back to the black screen of his own phone. “That’s kind of weird,” he said. “What are the odds of that?” He looked up at the power lines along the highway, as if they might have the answers.
The man gave him a surprised look. “Haven’t you been paying attention to the news?”
Leo shook his head.
“All morning they’ve been talking about the lights in the sky,” the man continued. “Just before everything quit on me, they said on the radio there were weird ships above the clouds. Visitors. From another planet.”
“Wait . . . seriously?”
“It was on every news station all morning,” the man said. “You really haven’t heard anything about it?”
“Uh . . . no.” Leo had been so focused on sneaking out early that morning that he hadn’t bothered to check social media on his phone.
“Well, listen, how about you loan me that bike?” The man suddenly took a nicer tone. “I can ride up into town, be back with help in . . . what is it from here, a few miles?”
“About four miles,” Leo told him, guessing how far he’d biked already. “But I’m keeping the bike. I could send help for you when I get to town.”
“Sure you will,” the man said. “But, the thing is, I have to call this in myself. I need somebody from my company. Most tow trucks won’t be able to get through our security system.”
“Well, sorry, then,” Leo said. His bicycle was his most valued possession. There was no way he’d let a stranger have it. Not even if it was the end of the world. “Hope someone else comes along.”
The man pulled out a handful of bills from his wallet. “How about a hundred bucks? The bike isn’t even worth that much. And I’m just renting it. Not buying it.”
Leo shook his head. His bike was worth way more than that, but that was beside the point. “It’s not for sale. Look, I’m late for school. I have to go—”
“How about you at least let me have a drink of water? I’ve been out here all morning.”
Leo did have a little water left. He climbed off his bike and took the bottle from its holder on the frame. He tossed it over. The man took a long drink, and for a moment, Leo thought about just leaving. The guy could keep the water bottle.
Then the man popped the cap back onto the bottle. “Thanks,” he said. He walked over to hand Leo the bottle, standing in front of Leo’s bike.
Leo reached out to take the bottle, when suddenly the man tossed it at him and lunged for the bike handles. Leo clutched at his bike as the man tried to jerk the handlebars out of his grip.
“You give me that bike now!”