Wild Ride Read Free Page A

instead. With a stab of guilt, Jonas realized that he didn’t want to have to answer questions like that.
    So he took a deep breath, gripped his handlebars, and shoved off.
    At first, he feathered his brakes, applying light pressure to keep from descending too fast. He shifted his weight to his rear tire, too, remembering that he was less likely to flip over his handlebars in that position. When the ride got bumpy, he stood up and let his legs absorb the worst shocks.
    Slowly but surely, he began to get a feel for the trail. He relaxed his grip on the brakes and started to gain speed. He spied a tree root sticking up in the path, pulled back on the handlebars, and jumped his bike over it. With a grin, he twisted around a sharp curve and took the next straightaway at full tilt. When he spotted a small puddle in the middle of the trail, he aimed for it, whooping with glee.
    The puddle was much deeper than it looked. Instead of splashing through it easily, his front tire hit the hole with so much force that Jonas’s teeth rattled and he lost his grip on the handlebars. Arms wheeling, he flew backward and landed with dull thud at the foot of a pine tree. The bike skidded sideways, leaving a shallow rut in the soft mud before crashing into the brush.
    Jonas lay on his back, stunned. After a minute, he sat up and examined himself gingerly. He was covered with muddy leaves and pine needles, and he could feel the beginnings of some bruises. But other than that, he seemed unhurt.
    He got to his feet and walked over to where his bike had toppled over, certain he’d find a crumpled heap of metal and rubber. But when he set the bike upright and gave it a quick once-over, he discovered that it looked fine.
    He took a deep, shaky breath and sat down next to his bike. “Wow, am I lucky,” he whispered to the trees. And as he reached for his water bottle, it hit him full force just
how
lucky he was: There was no one else on the mountain. His bike could have been broken apart into a million pieces. He could have been thrown against the pine tree. A sudden image of himself laying in the woods, unconscious and bleeding as the sun slowly set, flashed through his brain. It was followed by another picture of his father frantically searching for his only son.

    And he wouldn’t know where to look, because no one knows I’m here!

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Jonas no longer cared how much time it took him to get down the mountain. He just wanted to get home safely. So instead of climbing back onto his bike, he walked it the rest of the way down. Only after he emerged at the parking lot and retrieved his backpack did he start to ride again.
    He was halfway home when he realized something was wrong. His bike chain was catching every time he pedaled. He didn’t have time to examine it, though — his watch told him it was already two o’clock. He had only an hour to do a full list of chores before his father returned.
    At home, he stowed his muddy bike in the garage, promising himself he’d clean it and check the chain right after he finished the housework. But when he read the list his father had left him, he groaned.
    I’m supposed to empty the dishwasher, tidy up my bedroom and the basement, take out the trash,
and
vacuum the whole downstairs?
he thought as he changed out of his rain-and mud-soaked clothes.
That’ll take forever!
    It didn’t take forever, but it did take most of the hour. When he finally finished, all he wanted to do was flop on the sofa and watch television. Then he remembered that he still hadn’t taken care of his bike. With a sigh, he went out to the garage. His bike was right where he’d left it — but he was shocked by how bad it looked.
    While he’d been cleaning the house, the mud splotches on the frame had dried, leaving the bike covered in flaky dirt. The paint had new scratches on it that Jonas hadn’t noticed earlier. And he saw that the reflector from his back wheel was missing.
    Jonas realized once again just how