iGuardian Burning As The Sun – Rob Baddorf

My head spun. I was out of options! Why had we wasted so much time on getting the authentication card?! Who cared if we could listen in on the activities in Larunda? Especially when my mom’s life was at stake! We were traveling at a good clip when Guard tugged on the motorcycle’s handlebars. I let go. I was too distraught to drive well anyway. Part of me wanted to give up. To go to the dinner and give back the machine. After all, it was never mine to keep.

What did I care?! Guard ducked in behind an old, dirty semitruck and its trailer. Emblazoned on the side of the trailer was a simplistic logo of a giant tomato and the words “Always Fresh!” The truck must have been burning oil something bad, because it let out a nasty trail of smoke. The back of the truck was so filthy someone had used a finger to write: WASH ME! I was lost in thought—lost in despair!—when both doors on the truck suddenly opened. A ramp lowered . . .

lowered . . . Until it just kissed the roadway before me. What was happening?! Guard sped up. Pulling up onto the ramp. And straight on into the dim interior of the truck, nosing right up to the stacks of wooden crates. The ramp retracted and the doors closed behind us. Complete darkness! “Uh, Guard—” A set of light banks overhead blinked on. The stack of wooden crates in front of us flattened and, folding in on itself, lifted away.

“Should I be worried about this?” The crates were nothing more than a printed image on a divider wall, revealing— A high-tech mobile workshop! Pristine white. And well lit. Tools of different shapes and sizes hung on the walls. Wrenches, pliers. Gadgets I had never seen before. Computer stations with bundled wires and cables hung down from the ceiling on hinged arms. Without me having to do anything, something on the flooring gripped the iGuardian and slid it forward. Pulled us into the center of the work area. The canopy above my head retracted on its own.

I sat upright. Hesitant.

iGuardian • Book 4 Burning as the Sun © 2024 by Jar of Lightning All rights reserved. This publication may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Jar Of Lightning • Camp Hill, PA 17011 ISBN: 978-1-956061-82-6 Written by Rob Baddorf OceanofPDF.com Contents 1. 1 NOAH 2.

2 NOAH 3. 3 NOAH 4. 4 COLVIN 5. 5 NOAH 6. 6 NOAH 7. 7 NOAH 8. 8 NOAH 9. 9 NOAH 10. 10 NOAH 11. 11 NOAH 12. 12 NOAH 13. 13 COLVIN 14. 14 NOAH 15. 15 NOAH 16. 16 COLVIN 17. 17 NOAH 18. 18 NOAH 19.

19 NOAH 20. 20 NOAH 21. 21 NOAH 22. 22 NOAH Fullpage image 23. 23 NOAH 24. 24 COLVIN 25. 25 NOAH 26. 26 NOAH 27. 27 NOAH 28. 28 NOAH 29. 29 NOAH 30. 30 NOAH 31. 31 NOAH 32. 32 NOAH 33. 33 COLVIN 34. 34 NOAH 35. 35 NOAH 36. 36 COLVIN 37. 37 NOAH 38. 38 NOAH 39. 39 COLVIN 40. 40 NOAH 41. 41 NOAH 42. 42 NOAH 43.

43 NOAH 44. 44 NOAH 45. 45 NOAH 46. 46 NOAH 47. 47 NOAH 48. 48 NOAH 49. 49 NOAH 50. 50 NOAH 51. 51 NOAH 52. 52 NOAH 53. Epilogue NOAH Help Other Readers Also by Rob Baddorf OceanofPDF.com 1 NOAH I WAS ALL SNUGGLED in my warm bed, plenty comfortable and looking to hit the snooze button one more time. Only, the snooze button hit me first. I opened an eye. It wasn’t the snooze button. A wooden stick? Why was a wooden stick jabbing me in the face?!

I clamped my eye shut again. I didn’t like this dream. And why was it beginning to feel drafty? Cold? Shivering, I reached down to pull up the covers I must have kicked off. My fingers probed the area down near my feet, exploring. But I couldn’t find my blanket.

And why did my bed feel harder than usual? Did I fall asleep on a book? The stick poked me in the face again! Both my eyes shot open. A short, stocky third grader held the stick. He cocked his head to one side, wearing an expression somewhere between horror and curiosity. Like he was examining if the large bug he was poking was actually dead or not. “Are you a homeless person?” the kid asked. My eyes fluttered. Why was there a boy with a Black Sabbath T-shirt two sizes too small for him standing in my bedroom?

Wait. Did the kid say “homeless”? I suddenly shot up in bed. My eyes open wide! For some reason, I wasn’t in my bed.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 2637840a0148b772
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 4,398,773 bytes (4.195 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• ISBN: 9781956061826
• Pages: 170
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 140.87 minutes
• Total Words: 28,173
• Total Characters: 157,220
• Average Words per Page: 165.72
• Average Characters per Page: 924.82

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