Jacked
By Carrie Mac
3.5/5
()
About this ebook
Carrie Mac
Carrie Mac's first novel The Beckoners won the Arthur Ellis YA Award, is a CLA Honour book. She is available for school and library presentations, and has been known to hold the interest of a couple hundred teens where others have failed. Maybe it's the tattoos. For more information, visit www.carriemac.com.
Read more from Carrie Mac
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Reviews for Jacked
7 ratings1 review
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This is another good Orca book full of action and suspense with some teen angst thrown in for good measure. Jacked contains the usual low vocab/high interest qualities found in all the Orca Soundings books. In its 125 pages, you come to sympathize with Zane as he battles the masked gunman. Overall, readers who are making their way through the Orca Soundings list should add this one to it.
Book preview
Jacked - Carrie Mac
Jacked
Carrie Mac
orca soundings
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
Copyright © 2009 Carrie Mac
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Mac, Carrie, 1975-
Jacked / Carrie Mac.
(Orca soundings)
ISBN 978-1-55469-185-2 (bound).--ISBN 978-1-55469-184-5 (pbk.)
I. Title. II. Series: Orca soundings
PS8625.A23J32 2009 jC813'.6 C2009-902577-9
Summary: Zane is carjacked and forced to drive by a masked gunman.
First published in the United States, 2009
Library of Congress Control Number: 2009927570
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Cover design by Teresa Bubela
Cover photography by Getty Images
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
PO BOX 5626, STN. B
VICTORIA, BC CANADA
V8R 6S4
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
PO BOX 468
CUSTER, WA USA
98240-0468
www.orcabook.com
Printed and bound in Canada.
Printed on 100% PCW recycled paper.
12 11 10 09 • 4 3 2 1
For Jasper, Mister Bad
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
7:00 AM
When I show up for my shift, I find Dorkus Roboticus exactly where I left him last night, on the tall stool behind the cash register. I swear he doesn’t even get off that thing to pee. He probably just pisses into an empty pop bottle. I guess he doesn’t really have to move. He can reach the till, and the night window, and even the cigarettes, which is pretty much the only thing people want in the middle of the night. I asked him once what he did when someone wanted him to grab them a bag of chips or a liter of oil that he can’t reach from his stool. He looked at me with big blank eyes.
They don’t.
I wouldn’t ask him either. He’s as creepy as he is weird. I call him Dorkus Roboticus because he moves like a robot. And because he spends every nightshift making up crossword puzzles. Hence the dork factor.
What the hell do you do with those?
I ask him as I push open the door. I grab the last crossword just as he is about to put it away. Four across, 1964 zombie beach classic. Eight down, triangular medieval torture tool.
He says nothing. Only stares.
Alrighty then.
I drop the crossword. He’s that kind of creepy. I slide the paper across the counter to him and then go to put on the coffee.
How was your night?
I ask him this every morning too, because awkward silence is just that. Awkward. I don’t care if I have to fill it all by myself. I will.
He shrugs as he slides off the stool.
Float’s okay?
He nods.
So, Dorkus.
The coffee done, I pour myself an enormous cup of it and doctor it with a handful of flavored creamers and six packets of sugar. I grab a stale donut from the display case and join him behind the till. Got any big plans for the day?
He slowly turns his head as he lifts the strap of his man purse over his head. He wears it across his chest, like that makes it any less girlified.
Huh?
He blinks at me with his crusty, bloodshot eyes.
Plans,
I repeat. "Are you doing anything today. I am attempting small talk. You know this phrase? Small talk? So again, I ask…are you doing anything today?"
Sleep.
He shrugs. I dunno.
Well, rock on.
I take a big swig of coffee. Just rock on, man.
Yeah.
He shuffles a few steps toward the door, then stops. He stands there for a long moment and then turns back using a series of painstakingly small movements. Watching him makes me want to take up competitive running. Jesus! Oh,
he says, Kozlov is coming in at noon. Have fun.
I don’t know what bothers me more, the fact that Dorkus Roboticus just had the longest conversation he’d ever had with me, or the fact the boss is coming. Mr. Kozlov is scary. He was a champion boxer in Russia before he came here, and he still trains every day. In fact, I think that’s all he does every day. That, and drive around in his hummer with his two enormous Rottweiler dogs hanging their big blocky heads out the rear window.
It occurs to me while I’m tidying the chocolate-bar display that maybe Kozlov isn’t coming at all, and this was Dorkus’s idea of a joke. I think about