[-- work in progress - wip rough draft --] (698 words)
Riley Grunder stopped his bike at the top of the levy, looked down the hill, then looked back at the other four guys coming up fast behind him. Those guys would all take the road down. Wimps. Only he had the guts to ride straight down the side.
"Last one to the bottom buys me a milkshake," Riley yelled. He wiped his wet palms on his jeans, grabbed his handlebars and squeezed so tight his wrists hurt. He pushed off and rolled forward, launching himself down the hill.
His bike bounced once and the front wheel came down before the back one, but somehow he stayed upright and kept rolling.
He heard the other four yelling after him.
"You're crazy, Riley." "You're going to break your --"
He never did find out what he might break, because at that moment, a sound like thunder exploded in his eardrums. A light flashed so bright in front of him he thought the sun had collided with the earth. His eyes snapped shut and he felt the bike hit something hard, felt his body lift from the bike's seat.
He was flying, falling, felt himself hold his breath and grind his teeth. He tensed his body expecting to feel the crushing blow of the ground. He forced his eyes open, but all he could see was fog and trees. The world turned upside down as his body continued to fall. Just as his feet came over the top he smacked into water and plunged beneath it.
His face burned from the slap of the water, as he sunk to the bottom of the Towitchee River. He couldn't tell which way was up and he panicked for a moment flailing his arms and kicking his legs. His feet bumped something he thought was the river and he pushed off and flailed in the direction he hoped was the surface.
His lungs burned, but now he could see a bit of light through the murky water. Only one thought repeated in his mind. Air. Air. Air. He kicked harder and finally broke the surface, opened his mouth and sucked in cool sweet air.
He gasped and dog-paddled to the shore, which was only two few feet away. He pulled himself up and out of the river and flopped onto the ground on his stomach.
His stomach clenched as a wave of sickness washed over him. He rubbed his hand up over his face and then down the back of his head and neck. His head throbbed as a rush of heat pulsed from his head through his body and into his feet.
He closed his eyes and remembered the last time he had the flu. His nose burned and his eyes watered and he moaned as another wave of sickness pounded his stomach. He arched his back, raised up on his elbows and puked. It was mostly water, but he saw some of his breakfast in there too and he gagged again. He spit two times, then rolled away from the vomit and sat up and wiped his mouth. He felt better but still felt off balance.
What had happened? What was going on? He shook his head. Everything was silent. There were no noises. No birds, or wind through the leaves or bugs buzzing. Even the guys weren't making any noise. He stood up. Where were the guys?
He called out, "Guys..". He stuck a finger in his right ear and opened his mouth wide, trying to unplug his ears. Where were those guys?
He looked toward the top of the hill, but he couldn't see far because of all of the fog. No, it wasn't fog, it was steam and smoke.
He turned back to the river and that is when he saw it. There was a huge building in the middle of the river with steam spraying out of the sides where it touched the river.
Riley scratched his head and squinted at the huge white and black tower. He took a step back and traced the outline of the huge tower with his eyes until he couldn't stretch his neck any further. That's not a building.
That's a rocket.
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