Felix was on his daily trip to the library, when his engine began to smoke. He couldn’t wait for a tow truck; he was going to hitchhike. He needed a book on falcons so he could learn their eating habits. Once he had a question, it plagued him until he knew the answer.
A silver sports car pulled up, driven by a man with reflective sunglasses. “Where you headed?”
“The library on Anchor Street.” Felix got in the passenger side.
The car accelerated, pushing Felix against his seat. “Can you slow down? I have a heart condition, and–”
“I’m taking you to the library.”
“It’ll still be there in ten minutes.” Felix tried to lighten to the mood.
“I’m taking you to the library!” The driver’s rage flared and evaporated in a second.
Felix flinched and reached to unlock his door, but saw it changed. There were no controls for the window or lock. It didn’t even have a hinge. Felix banged on the window, shouting for help, but the road was empty. There were no people, no other cars, no signs.
He turned to the driver, forcing his voice to remain steady. “…Which library?”
“Alexandria.” He laughed, like the cough of a chimney. “You all think it burned, but we stole it. Now only people who starve for knowledge get in.”
“Who are you?”
The driver ignored his question. “We have books about falcons.”
“Why didn’t you say that first?”