Hallowed Be Thy Name

By Ryan Schneider

Hallowed Be Thy Name is the second installment of the epic serial adventure series The Go-Kids from award-winning writer Ryan Schneider.

July 13, 2047.

7:13 a.m.

Thousands of heavily-armed unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) are highjacked via remote control.

But on that fateful morning, known simply as The Attack, Parker Perkins survives.

Three years pass.

Parker struggles to reassemble the pieces of his former life. Little does he know what awaits him.

Hallowed Be Thy Name portrays universal themes of growing up, friendship, loss of innocence, and making difficult moral choices, filling this story with fast-paced action, deep characters, and emotional impact.

Readers will come to know and love Parker, Sunny, Bubba, Igby, and Colby as their adventure unfolds, for though it is a story about kids, it is much more than just a kids' story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ryan Schneider
• Release date: May 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458156266

Ryan Schneider

I write fiction. I will make you think and feel. That is my job.I am a husband, aspiring father, writer, and novelist.I try to write stories I would enjoy reading.My work is sometimes dark and heavy, sometimes light and fun, even romantic.I co-authored "The Pillow Book" with Petal Darker.I earned a Bachelor's degree in English Literature from the University of the Pacific. I have worked as a newspaper staff writer, a film critic, as well as co-host of a radio show. I studied screenwriting and independent producing at UCLA.I have written 7 novels, many short stories, a dozen screenplays, and many essays. I also co-produced a 35mm short film.I am also a commercially-licensed pilot with multi-engine and instrument ratings. I have flown various aircraft: Cessna 152, Cessna 172, Piper Arrow and Piper Seminole.I live with my wife Taliya in Palm Springs. Taliya is a singer/songwriter and musician. Her music has been likened to Enya, Yanni, and Sarah McLachlan. Taliya plays guitar, piano, and flute. She was awarded a Guinness World Record for recording her original song "Flower Child" in 15 languages. She has toured much of Europe and the United States. She has written and produced two albums and is currently in the studio at work on her third album.In 2013 I published the science fiction romantic novel EYE CANDY. Read it. You'll like it.I also published THE DEMON DRIVERS TRILOGY BOOK 1 -- THE BEGINNING. It's all five books of The Go-Kids adventure series collected in one volume for the first time ever! Read it. You'll like it.I am presently working on Book 2 of THE DEMON DRIVERS (coincides with book 6 of TGK), the epic tale of a thirteen-year-old boy named Parker who has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and the lives of his friends in his hands.

Book preview

Hallowed Be Thy Name

Book Two of THE GO-KIDS

by

Ryan Schneider

Copyright © 2010 Ryan Schneider

All Rights Reserved

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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First Edition

Also By Ryan Schneider

The Pillow Book

A Shadow Passed Over the Son

Book One of THE GO-KIDS

Chapter 1

A Single Prayer

Back in the chaos and noise of Sky City Hobbies and Toys, Sunny and Bubba turned and looked at one another, their mouths still agape.

What just happened? shouted Sunny.

Some guys just stole Parker, shouted Bubba.

Wait ’til they hear from my lawyer! shouted Colby.

Sunny and Bubba exchanged a look: Colby had clearly missed the point.

Colby’s dad and Mr. Alvin shouted and called each other names, spittle flying from their wet, shiny lips. The people in the front of the line yelled and waved their arms, commiserating with the people behind them and fighting to get Mr. Alvin’s attention.

Come on! said Sunny, and she ran for the warehouse door. Bubba ran after her.

Colby watched them go. Hey! Wait for me! He ran for the door.

Bye, Colbeeeee . . . .

Colby stopped as he reached the door. He looked back and saw his mom still sitting behind the big cardboard cut-out. She waved, smiling proudly at him. He shoved the door open and ran through the warehouse, packed with tall shelves full of toys and games and hobby supplies.

He ran to the back of the warehouse. A big sign suspended from the rafters by chains read Shipping & Receiving. Black and yellow-striped forklifts were lined up along the back wall, all plugged-in to their recharging stations like giant sleeping wasps. Sunny and Bubba exited through a side door and Colby sprinted after them. The door read Freight Elevator.

On the other side stretched a wide, vast hallway. Tire marks left by busy forklifts covered the cement floor. Along one wall lurked a series of metal roll-up doors, the receiving docks for stores on this side of the mall. Colby ran hard and caught up to Sunny and Bubba halfway down the corridor.

Where’re you guys going? he panted as he ran along side them.

They went through there, said Bubba. He pointed ahead. Far away, at the other end of the long corridor, loomed another massive roll-up door. Next to it was a regular sized man-door. Sunny, Bubba, and Colby ran for it. Bubba began to fall behind.

Our father . . . who art in heaven . . . he yelled, . . . hallowed be thy name!

Are you praying for Parker? Sunny called over her shoulder.

"I’m praying not to puke!" Bubba yelled.

Sunny and Colby reached the door, turned the handle and yanked it open. Bubba came pounding up behind them.

Inside was a second corridor. Instead of roll-up doors, it held great freight elevators, a dozen or more. Each freight elevator was a massive square platform surrounded on four sides by shiny aluminum fences, the front and back of which was built to slide up, allowing access to the enormous platform inside; load from one side, unload from the other; another lesson in efficiency learned from Sky City South. The closest elevator was descending, its overhead machinery and pulleys and flywheels spun and hummed and whirred loudly.

Now what? shouted Bubba.

We have to follow, said Sunny.

What? said Bubba.

Follow! repeated Sunny.

How do we know they’re in there? said Bubba.

There aren’t any other exits, stupid, said Colby.

Who invited you, anyway? said Bubba.

I invited myself, fat boy. Nobody steals my thunder.

Thunder? said Bubba. It ain’t raining, you moron.

Excuse me, shouted Sunny, but they are getting away. Why don’t you guys debate meteorology later.

He started it, Sunny! countered Bubba.

‘He started it, Sunny!’ Colby whined, miming Bubba.

Sunny arrived at the elevator. She pulled up on a red handle. The gate didn’t move. Help!

Bubba and Colby joined her and the three of them pulled with all their might. Gradually, the gate slid upward enough for them to duck underneath it. They rushed inside and with a similar effort managed to lower the gate. They found the controls nearby. Bubba punched the button marked Down and the elevator lurched, then descended slowly into the shaft to the accompaniment of the noisy machinery.

The calamity of the mechanics gradually subsided. How will we know what floor they stop on? asked Bubba. The thick cement walls separating the elevator shafts made it impossible to see anything except the interior of the elevator bay.

I guess we should assume they’ll go all the way to the ground floor, replied Sunny. That’s what I would do.

You should never assume anything, said Colby, "because it makes an ass out of ‘u’ and ass out of ‘me.’ ‘Hey Boilermaker, I got my curveball breaking inside three-and-a-half feet.’ Colby looked at Bubba. ‘Don’t jump in, Engelberg, you’ll flood the valley.’ ‘A busted bat and a long fly ball . . . . Any day now Durocher will call!’"

Sunny looked at him in disbelief. Are you always like this?

Not always, Colby replied earnestly. I do sleep occasionally.

What if we’re wrong? asked Bubba. What if we get to the bottom and there’s no one there?

Well, said Sunny, it’s Friday, so there aren’t any deliveries. That means the loading docks should be empty. It’d be a perfect place to stash a get-away car.

What’re we going to do if we catch them? asked Bubba.

No one said anything. They all looked at each other. No one had thought of what they would do if they met face-to-face with Parker and his captors.

It’s not like we can stop them, added Bubba. There’re more of them than there are of us. Plus, they’re bigger and probably have guns.

The elevator continued its descent. It clearly dropped more slowly than the tourist-happy express elevators. Cool air rushed through the gates all around them, tossing their hair.

We’ll follow them, said Sunny.

And then what? said Colby, as if this were the dumbest idea he’d ever heard.

We’ll see where they go, replied Sunny, try to find out who they are. And why they took Parker.

Their bodies grew heavy as the freight elevator slowed. It clanked and whirred and jerked to a halt. They grabbed the handle and lifted the gate and ducked under again. Before them stood another series of metal roll-up doors and man-doors. They ran to the closest door and shoved the handle, pouring out onto a long walkway running the length of the loading dock.

Look! Colby pointed.

Two big black Cherrolet Super Urban Vehicles careened around a corner. The big tires squealed and the bodies leaned as the SUVs rounded the building. The tinted windows were almost as black as the paint. It was impossible to see who was inside.

Think that’s them? asked Bubba.

Oh, please tell me you’re not that dumb, exclaimed Colby.

Well, said Bubba.

‘Well?’ That’s all you’ve got? ‘Well?’ Colby rolled his eyes and sighed. How many conspicuous, unmarked, government-issue SUVs do you see fleeing a loading dock on the one day of the week the docks are empty?

We can’t afford to be wrong, said Bubba.

Bubba’s right, said Sunny. We can’t.

Bubba stuck his tongue out at Colby, and Colby rolled his eyes again.

You’re both right, said Sunny. It’s definitely them.

Colby stuck his tongue out at Bubba.

What do we do? asked Bubba. We can’t keep up on foot.

We’ll have to cut ’em off at the pass, said Colby, like Igby and I did in act two of our new movie.

I haven’t seen it yet! said Bubba. Don’t tell me anything about it. I like to go in fresh.

Oh, like Frank Costanza.

Who’s Frank Costanza? asked Sunny.

The founder of Festivus, said Colby.

"What’s