{"product_id":"encounter-at-owl-rock-isbn-9780593696385","title":"Encounter at Owl Rock","description":"\u003cb\u003eIn this exhilarating alien sci-fi adventure perfect for fans of Jordan Peele’s \u003ci\u003eNope\u003c\/i\u003e, Lamar Giles and Kwame Mbalia, twin brothers must stop aliens from taking over their Atlanta suburb.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere’s something weird going on in South Bank…and the Young brothers are at the center of it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCypress and Oakley Young are polar opposites and if it weren’t for being identical twins, no one would ever guess they were related. Cy is a budding film director and this summer, he’s filming his latest movie at the abandoned theme park with Oak and their best friend Jaz as his actors. He loves directing, because being the director means calling the shots, being in absolute control of how the story turns out. Except Oak’s wild imagination can’t be contained. Tired of hearing about his brother’s dreams and alien conspiracy theories, Cy snaps at him. But before he can patch things up, Oak vanishes into Owl Rock, this huge otherworldly granite formation at the center of the park, leaving only his skateboard behind.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen Orion Industries, the company that’s been excavating beneath Owl Rock and snapping up property all around town, start searching for Oak with a little \u003ci\u003etoo \u003c\/i\u003emuch interest, it’s up to Cy and Jaz to find Oak first and uncover the true secrets of Owl Rock. This heartening whirlwind adventure is ready to thrill as two brothers discover we’re not alone in the universe.\u003cb\u003e\u003cu\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eEncounter at Owl Rock\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/u\u003e: \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What could be more dangerous and frightening than sneaking into an abandoned amusement park late at night? Well... what if you add some aliens into the mix? \u003cb\u003eThe shivers start early\u003c\/b\u003e in this book—and \u003cb\u003ethe surprises just keep on coming!\u003c\/b\u003e Don't miss this fun read!\"—\u003cb\u003eR.L. Stine\u003c\/b\u003e, author \u003ci\u003eGoosebumps\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eFear Street\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Moses (\u003ci\u003eKingston and the Magician’s Lost and Found\u003c\/i\u003e) delivers \u003cb\u003ea pulse-pounding adventure\u003c\/b\u003e marked by \u003cb\u003eepic stunts\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003ecreepy extraterrestrial antagonists\u003c\/b\u003e, and a plethora of contemporary hip-hop references. It’s \u003cb\u003ean always-moving tale\u003c\/b\u003e that balances an out-of-this-world premise with \u003cb\u003eheartfelt ruminations on the importance of friendship, family, and, most prominently, indomitable brotherhood\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Two brothers team up with their longtime bestie and a peculiar new friend \u003cb\u003efor a high-stakes, out-of-this-world adventure\u003c\/b\u003e…The dual first-person narration shifts between the point of view of Cypress, who’s desperately trying to find his brother and navigate issues of rapid, \u003cb\u003eworld-destroying gentrification\u003c\/b\u003e, and Oak, who befriends an alien who’s reluctant to be part of the \u003cb\u003eworld-conquering plot\u003c\/b\u003e. By the time the brothers reunite to \u003cb\u003esave the day with music and magic meteorites\u003c\/b\u003e, their understanding of how to be part of a team while still maintaining their individuality is forever changed for the better… A \u003cb\u003eraucous romp\u003c\/b\u003e from twin perspectives \u003cb\u003ewith something different to say\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003ci\u003eKirkus \u003c\/i\u003eReviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003cb\u003eE.T. meets Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Mars Attacks!\u003c\/b\u003e... The ensuing romp is \u003cb\u003epacked with heaping helpings of music and movie references\u003c\/b\u003e (“Like, use the Force, Cy!”)—not to mention, on the way to \u003cb\u003ea zippy, last-second save\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003ea string of exhilarating exploits\u003c\/b\u003e aboard flying skateboards powered by mind-controlled alien tech… riffs, high rides, and \u003cb\u003eawesome aerial action\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eRUCKER MOSES\u003c\/b\u003e is the pen name of writing team Craig S. Phillips, Harold Hayes, Jr., and Theo Gangi. Together, they write far-out  adventures that happen right next door. Harold and Craig both hail from Atlanta and teamed up to tell stories at the University of Georgia. As a writing duo, they’ve been nominated for three Emmys for writing in a children’s program and have written for TV shows based on books by R. L. Stine and Christopher Pike. They also make virtual reality experiences and own a production company named SunnyBoy Entertainment. Theo, a novelist and writing teacher, has authored several acclaimed novels and stories, and has worked on shows for Netflix and Disney+. He directs the MFA program in creative writing at St. Francis College in downtown Brooklyn. When not telling stories together, they spend time chasing their kids from one adventure to the next.\u003cb\u003eChapter 4\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eOakley\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m on top of Owl Rock. The fog swaddles me. A single oval eye appears in the fog and spots me like the Cheshire cat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJust when I think it’s ’bout to wink or something, the oval starts to rotate.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe light spins in a circle like a Hot Wheels car zipping around a racetrack. Spinning so fast it makes a loop, and the fog within the loop starts to swirl, like Grandma stirring up scrambled eggs. Then all at once, the Hot Wheels car goes so fast it makes a single hoop, and the swirling fog turns solid and forms a film like glass. It’s like a porthole.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn the other side, there’s this other reality. Like, a whole ’nother place. A rocky cave, cold and dark.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHolding my broken hunk of meteorite, I reach toward the glass. But my hand goes right through. It’s not solid. It only looks that way.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI can go there. To that mysterious, dank, rocky cavern. Maybe some sick futuristic technology? Mystical alien powers? Enhanced mutant abilities at work? Cosmic anomaly? Who knows? A portal! IRL!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI hear a nagging voice. \u003ci\u003eTo where, though?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGood question. What’s on the other side? A cavern, but leading where? Where does Route Interplanetary Portal go? Another dimension? A planet made out of wet rocks full of vampire alien bats? Or giant zombie ants? Or swashbuckling space pirates? I hope there isn’t one of those intergalactic colosseums with, like, gladiator battles with aliens from different dimensions. Not sure I got the skill set or ruthless instinct for a jam like that. Plus, I bet, like, none of the aliens in the crowd will root for me . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eFocus, Oak.\u003c\/i\u003e That voice again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOkay, what’s happening on the other side of this portal is likely none of these things. But something is happening, and I have a choice. To go or not to go.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhatever this is, I must see it through to the end. Just last night I got some major top secret stuff on camera. And now this. I’ve come too far not to go through with it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI know this could be dangerous. Still, I step into the circle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRight away it’s like I drop straight down an elevator shaft. My stomach does a somersault while the rest of me is doing backflips. Then—­splash—­I belly flop right smack into another pool of reality—­\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd collapse on hard rock.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEverything is quiet. So quiet it has an echo somehow, the kind of quiet that rings in your ears. The portal is gone. I’m suddenly exhausted. Slowly I stretch out my hands. I feel all over the damp rocks. No clue where I am. On Earth? In this galaxy? Still unclear.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI wonder, if I was on another planet, would the air feel different? I take a deep breath. No issues there. Breathing just fine. Stinks like a mossy basement, though.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI wish I had some light, but my dad’s meteorite is stone dead. Why is that? The rock is also chipped down some. I must have cracked it with that sick crash landing on top of Owl Rock. Hope Cy got a good shot of that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut I wonder, will the meteorite keep the radio working? I pull Grandpa’s radio out of my sling bag and slap the meteorite on the back. It holds, and the sound screeches so loud I have to hold my ears. The rock flickers in and out. I try to turn the volume down, but nothing. Now I can’t get it to stop. The radio bangs into a rock ceiling just above my head. I’m in a narrow shaft. Surrounded on all sides by rock.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow do I get out of here? My heart beats loud. I taste panic, like fear trapped in my throat. \u003ci\u003eBreathe,\u003c\/i\u003e I tell myself.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe rocks around me feel moist, slicked with water. The cavern is on a slope. I know I have to move. But which way, up or down? I can’t call it. Part of me wants to go up. I guess as a general air-­breathing dude that digs some sunlight “up” is the obvious choice. But something else tells me to go down. As above, so below, like Dad used to say.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo, I go down. Crawling, elbows and knees on jagged rock. Can’t say how long it takes. Can’t say how many times I think to double back.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eDon’t go down.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eDown is dark.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eDown is the opposite of what you want—­light and air and sun.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut I keep going.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy fingers tremble along the rocks. The dark swallows me up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow did I get into this?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf I’d just listened to Cy . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m somewhere between crying and laughing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHere I go again. Doing my own thing. Never listening to a word my brother says. Knowing full well he’s the one that’s got some sense.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThinking all that, but still crawling down the slick, jagged stones . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI realize how easy it is to be brave when I have Cy around to be scared. When he tells me not to do something, that something becomes the easiest thing in the world for me to do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd that’s when the rock stuck to Grandpa’s radio flares brighter than I’ve ever seen it. It glows, lighting up the darkness around me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eChapter 6\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eOakley\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe meteorite glows from the back of Grandpa’s radio. The sound of crying bounces around the tunnel. By the soft orange light I see the end of the narrow passage.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s a wide-­open space, like a football stadium carved beneath a dome of rock. I hold the light out. Step by step that crying sound buzzes from Grandpa’s radio. Far away as the stars, the underground roof glimmers with crystal cave light. I hear skittering sounds from nowhere, echoing everywhere. I swing the meteorite left and right, the glow moving aside shadows like curtains. Terror creeps into me—­what was that sound? What’s lurking here?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hello?” I hear my own voice echo, and as the echo fades, there’s more radio static and crying. But clearer now. Louder, vibrating from the speaker.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eWhere are you?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eWho are you?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI stare at the speaker as I walk along a dribbling stream. I dip my finger in the clear liquid and dab my tongue. Tastes like water. More intel for my mental location dossier. There’s water or a water equivalent on this planet. There must be an opening to a surface somewhere too.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI hit about the fifty-­yard line of this subterranean football field, and the crying is as loud as it’s ever been.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo my left and right, there’s two sets of perfectly rounded globes made of a different sort of rock. They are busted open and hollow on the inside. Some orbs have melted rock at the base like ice cream scoops dripping in the heat. They’re all covered in dust. I bring the glowing meteorite close to another stone orb. I brush away the dust. The rock is familiar—­a shade of charcoal with striations like rainbows.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe meteorite.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis rock I have must have come from this cave—­and I drop the radio. The rock hits the cave, and brightness surrounds me like ripples along the floor, lighting up the crags and veins like the whole cavern is made of the meteorite.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere’s an orb in front of me that’s different from the rest. Unlike the four busted stone globes, this orb is whole. Not to mention that as I approach, it levitates clean off the ground.\u003cbr\u003eSmall chips flicker in its orbit like firecrackers caught in Saturn’s rings. I look for wire or a stand, something to explain how it’s hovering, but there’s nothing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen the orb snaps all around the cavern like a laser pointer on a wall.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m stunned. This is some next-­level outer space stuff. Popping and locking the laws of gravity. No exhaust, no combustion. No visible engine. How can a thing that big move like that? How can anything move like that?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ruuun, ruuuunn, ruuuuuun,” a voice punches through the speaker.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI tense up and freeze in my tracks, ready to break left or right. Run? Where to?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe orb has a fissure where its shell breaks apart. A line zigzags down the middle like Grandpa’s welding torch cutting through from the inside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ruuune.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI glance from the speaker to the orb and back. What is even happening?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ruuune,” the voice says.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe ridges of the orange fissure are slowly separating. The radio turns up loud; the speakers crackle. I pick it up off the floor and hold it to my ear. I can barely make out the voice through all the static.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ruuuuuuunnnnne,” the voice mews once again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI bolt to my right as the orb explodes! A sonic boom warps all sound, distant and muffled like I’m underwater. A wave hits me and I fly backward to the ground. I lose my breath. I wipe goo away from my eyes and look up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere’s a one-­eyed creature sitting in shards of rock and slime.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ah!” I shout, and launch myself back, slipping in the goo and falling on rock. I scramble away when the radio bursts to life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Me and you,” a voice croons. “Me and youuuu!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHeart racing, I pause. It’s that same voice that was telling me to run before. But now it’s singing OutKast? I’m putting pieces together. Is that his voice playing through the speaker? How? This gray creature must have heard my song through the radio.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe pushes farther out of the orb; his eye pulses blue. It’s huge and bugs out of his head above a mouth like a gash. Two antennae sprout from the top of his round head. He’s about a foot tall, and his narrow neck leads to a rail-­thin exoskeleton with a tail that lies along the cave floor. He’s got all these little gray fuzzies along his shoulders and arms like small pine needles. His lone eye just blinks, checking me out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Me and youuu,” the radio buzzes as the creature’s antennae paw at the airwaves.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Is that—­you?” I ask. Is this creature communicating through the speaker in my hand?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Me and youuu,” he sings.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Cousin too,” I hum back, voice shaky. He doesn’t seem to be a threat—­explosive slime aside. Still, I’m on edge. What is this stuff on me? I wipe more goo off my body and see busted hunks of meteorite all around like eggshells. Was that orb an egg? So I’ve got yolk on my face?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ruuune, ruun,” the radio buzzes. It fits that the creature is using this radio to communicate, because he hums everything he says. “I said ruuune. Rune. Run.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ruune,” I repeat, mimicking his singsong. “Thanks for the warning, I guess.” I wipe away more goo.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe alien creature makes this clucking sound, like . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Wait,” I say, understanding. “Are you laughing?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe jerks his head up and down like he’s nodding.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLaughter is a universal language, apparently. We’re both laughing now.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’ma call you Rune. Lil Rune.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe radio then hums, “Meee ’n’ youu, meee ’n’ yoouuu. Cuh-­zin too.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Me and you. Lil Rune,” I say. “I’m Oakley. Oak Young.”","brand":"Nancy Paulsen Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303208702181,"sku":"NP9780593696385","price":18.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/encounter-at-owl-rock-isbn-9780593696385","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}