Tron Legacy by Alice Alfonsi Page B

the building. He’d studied the floor plans and knew exactly which route to take.
    After two flights of stairs, Sam arrived at a bank of freight elevators. He hit the button and an elevator instantly opened—just as he knew it would.
    Three minutes later Sam stepped onto the skyscraper’s roof, his backpack now firmly attached to both shoulders.
    The night air was warm and laced with the smell of the ocean. Sam paused in the neon glow of the huge Encom sign that topped the building.
    “Hey, dad,” Sam whispered to the dark wind, hoping that wherever his father was, he could hear him asking: “How you doing?”
    Just then, Sam heard a heavy door clang. Boots clomped across the roof. Two security guards appeared behind him! It looked like he hadn’t been as invisible as he hoped.
    Here we go, Sam thought.
    A third uniformed man appeared. This last guy was big and beefy. He wore special bars on his collar indicating that he was the guy in charge. “I got you now!” the big man called to Sam.
    Sam ignored him as he tugged on the straps of his backpack, making sure they were secure. Then he began climbing to the top of the neon sign.
    The guards shouted at him to get down, but he didn’t listen. So the big guard started to follow him up.
    Sam kept climbing—right onto a catwalk suspended high above the city. The walkway was attached to a huge crane.
    “I’ve got you cornered,” the big officer shouted as he climbed onto the walkway. He faced Sam, moving a step closer.
    “Take it easy, buddy,” Sam said, backing away.
    “The name’s Ernie,” the guard said. “You should know the name of the sheriff who brought you down.”
    “You’re a sheriff?”
    “You think you’re so smart,” Ernie shouted. “Every year at this time, some stupid stunt. And every time with that logo, that 89 symbol you leave behind! But not this year. No more chew-outs from my boss, because this year I’ve got my man!”
    By now, the night wind was buffeting them both. The crane began to sway. Sam clutched the rail, looked at the ground far below and then back at Ernie.
    “Your boss is fine with this,” he informed the man.
    Ernie frowned and shook his head. “No way.”
    “Who’s your boss?” Sam asked.
    Ernie inched a little closer to Sam. A blast of wind hit them, and the crane’s swaying became more violent.
    “The security chief is my boss,” Ernie shouted.
    “That’s not actually true,” Sam told him, “because your boss works for the board of directors, and they work for the shareholders.”
    Ernie gave Sam a “so what” look.
    “do you know who the biggest shareholder is, Ernie?”
    “I don’t know!” Ernie cried. “Some kid!”
    Sam stuck a thumb in his own chest—and grinned.
    “You’re the kid?” Ernie groaned.
    Sam nodded.
    “You’re killin’ me,” Ernie muttered.
    Still grinning, Sam dived off the walkway. “See ya, Sheriff!” he shouted as he hurtled toward the pavement.
    Ernie looked away, too horrified to watch. That’s when he saw the 89 logo glowing from a giant neon sticker now attached to the crane. Sam had struck again.

SAM FELT HIMSELF FALLING FAST THROUGH THE AIR . With a hard jolt, the parachute hidden in his backpack deployed and his body was jerked back up again.
    Sam laughed. Everything was working out exactly as planned. He began floating down slowly, his feet dangling over his intended landing zone—the employee parking lot. And then, the gust came.
    With a whoosh the night wind caught his chute, twisting and turning it.
    Uh-oh…
    While sirens began wailing in the distance, Sam felt the wind sweeping him away from the parking lot. He was drifting helplessly now, over the darkened city streets.
    Down, down he floated, and then, with another jolt, he stopped. Aw, no! he thought. His parachute had gotten caught on a streetlight!
    Sam looked down to the pavement—the very hard pavement. He could slip out of the chute’s harness and let himself fall to the ground. But it was