Ascending the Boneyard Read Online Free PDF

with the bird next to it.
    If I didn’t know this place so well, I’d have to start randomly walking around looking for it. But that won’t be necessary. Because just a few feet from the reporter was a skid mark up on the wall at a sharp curve on the track, and the discarded drink cup was on the ground below it. I know that part of the track all too well.
    Me and Haze were the ones who made that skid mark.
    I spit the thought out onto the sidewalk and look around through the yellow-tinged goggles.
    No wonder the streets of Sandusky are empty—the park is mobbed with people. I’m getting a definite preraid Boneyard vibe here.
    Unfortunately, with crowds like these, I stand a pretty slim chance that anyone’s going to let me down onto the track.
    If I’d have thought this through for even one second, I would have realized that I needed a more elaborate plan than stealing my brother’s Virgin Mary skateboard and rolling up to an amusement park full of people who aren’t going to want me here, then trying to find a skid mark and a cup so I can save a dying little bird on the advice of some mystery texter who may or may not be an UpperWorld operative trying to save me from the infestation of Turk’s army that started in my room this morning.
    But I didn’t think it through for more than one second, so that’s all I’ve got.
    For a few seconds I contemplate what Roundhouse would do.
    In a moment such as this, when TV’s Chuck Norris–inspired Roundhouse finds himself in an impossible situation and has to figure his way out with nothing but brains, brawn, and his own saliva, I have reason to believe that he would create a distraction of some kind. He would do so by pulling a Chinese firecracker out of his ass, or fashioning his own hair into a smoke bomb, and as the crowd swarmed to see if they were under terrorist attack or something, Roundhouse would dash in, do his business, and get out before anyone knew he’d been there.
    Unfortunately, I don’t know how to fashion a smoke bomb out of my own hair.
    I need to come up with a plan B.
    I survey the amusement-park grounds, the castle that’s the hallmark of the mini-golf course, not to mention the place where Logan Ward claims to have lost his virginity to Sabrina Jones last summer. Past that, there’s the serpentine pit of the go-kart track, the bumper-boat pond filled with dead birds and disembodied black feathers floating around in it, plus the inevitability of infectious diseases and the budding stench of death. I’m not exaggerating; just check out the way the entire place is swarming with people in hazmat suits.
    Wait a minute. Wait. A. Minute. That’s it.
    Plan B involves Caleb Tosh in a hazmat suit.
    How legit is that ?

3.5
    So far, there are no signs of UnderWorld infiltration.
    I breathe a sigh of relief.

4
    The question is, what kind of dumb-ass hazmat team leaves the back doors of their van open?
    Doesn’t matter, because here I stand at the back of the van, and there, just inside the open doors, is a stack of white, disposable Tyvek coveralls. Another quick check reveals a box of disposable face masks just behind the suits. This stroke of luck has me a little freaked out, since I don’t have the most stellar reputation for being lucky.
    But I’ll take it.
    I’ve never moved faster in my life to accomplish any goal than I move now, gearing up in that Tyvek suit. Once I’m dressed, I make my way toward the park, only to realize I have one more little snag: Devin’s skateboard. Hazmat dudes generally don’t carry their skateboards with them.
    I hear a faint tick-tick-ticking in my head, like if I don’t find that bird and save it fast, this whole level will wipe again and I’ll lose everything. I quick stash the deck inside the back of that yellow truck parked nearby, only because it’ll be easier to find in the sea of white vans when I’m done