A Shadow Passed Over the Son

A Shadow Passed Over the Son

Book One of The Go-Kids

by

Ryan Schneider

SUMMARY:

A Shadow Passed Over the Son is the first installment of the adult-friendly (PG-13) epic adventure serial series The Go-Kids, quality science fiction from award-winning writer Ryan Schneider.

Parker Perkins lives in Manhattan with his mom and dad. Today is Parker's 10th birthday. But Parker's birthday takes a sudden turn and his life will never be the same.

A Shadow Passed Over the Son is far more than a kids' story. It is a story about growing up, friendship, and the challenge of moral choices. Ride along during the ongoing adventures of Parker, Sunny, Bubba, Igby, and Colby, characters readers will come to know and love.

Books 1-5 now available.

Book 6 coming June 2013!

Copyright © 2009, 2013 Ryan Schneider

All Rights Reserved

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This ebook may not be re-sold but it may be given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please share it with as many people as possible. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, hey great – free book! Thank you for enjoying the hard work of this author.

First Edition

For my wife Taliya.

You believe in me

and in my purpose

each and every day.

Ani ohev otach.

I Love You.

Prologue

Blue sky.

High desert below. Dark green scrub, giant boulders, spiny cactus. Craggy, ancient mountains in the distance. Like pictures of New Mexico and Arizona.

Powerful robotic hands were attached to his muscular robotic arms. Black-booted feet emitted cones of blue plasma, holding him aloft. An impressive red safety harness held him securely inside a Go-Boy Battle-Suit. A real Go-Boy Battle-Suit. Better than the simulator at the arcade. Better even than the expensive Hollywood version piloted by Colby Max, and he was the most beloved thirteen-year-old in the country, perhaps the world.

There were others nearby, kids Parker’s age, somewhere in the sky with him.

One of them was in trouble.

Parker spun around, scanned the sky.

There she was, inside her Battle-Suit, on her back and falling headfirst, trapped in a flat spin. She spun like a leaf. A leaf made of lead.

Who was she? How did he know her?

It didn’t matter now. Questions later. If he could get to her before she impacted the hard ground, flattened in an unceremonious crunch of expensive metals and metallurgical polymers and whatever else Colby’s sidekick Igby used to build the fancy flying suits.

Parker rolled onto his back, accelerated hard. He dove from the sky in a tight loop, until he flew parallel to the earth. He accelerated harder, pushing his Battle-Suit faster and faster. Scrub and boulders and cactus rushed by in a blur.

Voices on the radio, shouting, arguing, far away, as if he were under water. He ignored them, focused on her. He could save her. He had to.

A giant cactus appeared in his flight path. Green spines and black spikes rushed toward him. He made a fist with his big robotic hand and punched the cactus as he flew into it. The cactus exploded. Shards of cactus meat and beads of cactus juice hung in the air as if in a photograph. The explosive impact rang his ears inside his helmet.

He flew on, faster and faster.

She neared the ground. Mountains loomed behind her. A few seconds more and it would be too late.

He would make it. He would catch her.

She wasn’t going to die.

Not today.

Parker stretched out his long robotic arms. Drops of cactus juice sparkled on the black palms of his robotic hands, blue sky and brown desert reflected a hundred times in miniature.

He focused on her. Twirling as she fell. Around and around she spun. His timing had to be perfect.

He reached out . . .

. . . waited, waited . . . .

A shrill scream blared over the radio.

The Battle-Suit and the girl screaming inside it disappeared behind a massive boulder.

The screaming abruptly stopped.

From behind the boulder rose a cloud of brown dust.

Chapter 1

Bye, Mom

I’m so dead. Parker’s mother glanced at the rear view mirror for the third time.

Mom. Relax, said Parker. It’s one day of school. Besides, it’s my birthday. Remember?

Yes, of course I remember. She relaxed into the driver’s seat and looked at him. She smiled. Her eyes flitted to the mirror again.

Mom.

Sorry. Her eyes flitted back to him. This is a tow-away zone.

They’re not going to tow the car with us sitting in it.

If your father finds out you spent the day playing video games, we can say you played hooky because it’s your birthday. But if I get a ticket for parking in a red zone outside the arcade, we won’t get off so lucky.

Fine. Go to school. Go teach. He reached for the door handle.

You sure you have enough money?

Yes. You gave me more than enough. He smiled and opened the door.

Don’t tell your father. You know how he is about earning things. Her eyes drifted to the rear view mirror again. Is that a cop?

Parker looked over his shoulder. No. It’s a taxi. He put one foot out.

What time are you meeting me back here?

Three.

We have to hurry to meet your father or he’ll know we were up to something.

I know.

What time?

Three.

You’re sure you have enough money?

She sat behind the wheel, more matronly than usual in her work clothes, a long skirt and button-down sweater, hair piled atop her head like it always was in the mornings, with two blond strands framing her eyes. Yes, mom. Go teach.

She smiled. An odd, different smile.

He didn’t know what it meant. What?

Nothing. She looked at him, the mirror forgotten. You’re getting to be so handsome. You look more like your father every day.

Dad says I remind him of you.

She smiled again. Does the watch fit?

He held up his wrist. Perfectly.

Good. He spent a lot of time shopping for the one you wanted. Make sure you turn it off until after school. We can at least pretend we’re following the rules. You’ll get my gift at dinner. I love you. My hope.

Mom, please.

What? It’s not every day my little boy turns ten.

Go teach.

Fine. Go . . . kick . . . . What is it you’re kicking, exactly?

Plasma.

Right. Go kick some plasma. And, uh, ‘Take it to the max.’ She pointed her finger at the sky. You’re sure you have enough money? Parker?

He wasn’t listening. He studied the watch, remembering last night, minutes before his father had given it to him. He’d walked in on his parents, found them shouting at each other. He’d barely slept because of it. And he’d had a horrible nightmare. It had mostly faded now. But he recalled a girl screaming.

Halfway out the car door, he paused. Last night, what were you and dad arguing about?

Grown up stuff.

Are you getting a divorce?

Her eyes widened in horror. A divorce? No, absolutely not. I love you and your father more than life itself. I would never leave. Either of you. Why would you think we’re getting a divorce?

You were arguing last night. When I came in, you stopped. It seemed like it had something to do with me.

Her eyebrows lifted and she smiled. She shook her head, caring but conflicted. Respectful disagreements are perfectly healthy. She checked the rear-view mirror again, then checked the little round silver watch on her own wrist. I have to go. You know how Midtown is in the morning.

He sat on the edge of his seat, looking at her. The wide red strap of his Go-Boy backpack hung on his shoulder.

She smiled wider. This is a topic for some other time, honey. It’s your birthday, remember?

He got out and closed the car door, not entirely convinced.

She smiled. Have fun!

A siren woop-WOOP! behind them. A blue and white cruiser had pulled up, NYPD on the door. The big man behind the wheel held up both hands: I’m waiting . . . .

See! She waved at the officer and threw the shift lever into Drive. I am so dead.

She waved again, this time at Parker. Suddenly she seemed young again. Her essence, her silliness and ignorance of how beautiful she was, outshone her years for a moment, a second or two. Then she was mom again.

I love you! She drove away, still smiling. Her head tilted as she watched him in her rearview mirror. Then she was swallowed up by the morning traffic.

The police car remained at the red curb. Its steam engine purred. Tendrils of moisture wafted from the tailpipes and melted into the unseasonably cool July morning air. The police officer hunched sideways, his right hand on the headrest of the passenger seat, watching Parker. His radio crackled. A woman’s garbled voice droned out of it. The officer watched Parker for a moment longer, then stabbed a button on the dash and the red and blue lights atop the car sprang to life. The officer whipped the car out into traffic. Several taxis and a double-decker sightseeing bus screeched to a halt. The taxi drivers honked and the bus’s brakes squealed. The wide-eyed passengers on the upper deck bobbed forward in unison as the bus stopped, many of them shooting pictures and video of the hurried police car.

Parker turned and walked down the wide sidewalk toward the long row of silver doors which led into the