Page 4 - Eighth Grade vs. the Machines

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Listen. I don’t have a lot of time. So I’ll catch you up
quick. Humanity’s missing. My dad invented a light
speed engine on our schoolship, which drew some . . .
unwanted attention, alienwise. Now we’re the only ones

left: a middle school from Ganymede, stuck on Earth,
no idea where to go next. And—oh yeah—we’re in the
middle of maybe the most important battle this planet
has ever seen.
“I know you’re in here, Jack!” my enemy says,
chomping down on her gum and popping a bubble.
“It’s over. Time for the great Jacksonville Graham to

surrender.”
I’m stuck inside one of New York’s empty sky-
scrapers, crouching behind a giant column, listening to
footsteps slowly click clack across the room. Every sound
boom-echoes through this lobby. Between its gold-
plated walls. Up to its high ceilings carved with images
of the city.

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