SHIFT TO THE EXTREME: Vol. 1

By Miles Monahan

A fourteen-year-old gets accepted into a school for extreme athletes. Suddenly, his life goes from ordinary to extraordinary. He learns parkour and all the moves and risks of wingsuits and daredevil stunts. But controversy follows hot on his tail, attracting both positive and negative attention. One source of such attention is a corrupt businessman who tries to weasel his way out of a fair deal, and soon the two square off in an obstacle course of his creation.

Miles Monahan's novel Shift to the Extreme is the first in an exciting series focused on young teens and the way they use their extreme-sports skills to change the world and save the day. With this page-turning story, Monahan seems to tell his young readers: Don't just wait for magic to happen-be active now, and maybe you too can do something incredible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9781669877226

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Copyright © 2023 by Miles Monahan.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 05/10/2023

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Intro…

Prologue

ACT 1

August with Guts

Chapter 1     A Madman’s Escape

Chapter 2     Accepted

Chapter 3     Wrenchfort Arrival

Chapter 4     First Class of Annoyance

Chapter 5     Health Class

Chapter 6     Ms. Krystal Hetros

Chapter 7     Twelve Labors of Mayhem

Chapter 8     Ms. Hemlock

Chapter 9     Hair Pulling

Chapter 10   Five Days of Nonstop Training

Chapter 11   Police Matter

Chapter 12   Arrival At Archer Island

ACT 2

September Slams

Chapter 1     Wingsuit Challenge

Chapter 2     Hydro Coins

Chapter 3     Kola Breeze

Chapter 4     Viral Video

Chapter 5     Street Luge Simulator

Chapter 6     Intimidation

Chapter 7     The Return to Archer Island

Chapter 8     Milly’s Mayhem

Chapter 9     Victory With Almost A Heavy Price

Chapter 10   The Biggest Upset

Chapter 11   Party Girls

Chapter 12   Interstate Showdown

Chapter 13   Protesting Phoenix Feathers

Chapter 14   Samantha Jade

Chapter 15   Bonestealer Has A Boss

Chapter 16   Wrongly Committed

Chapter 17   Ramona on Some Tragic Times

ACT 3

Outrageous October

Chapter 1     The Salmon Ladder

Chapter 2     The Mystery of Philip

Chapter 3     Ashie in Trouble

Chapter 4     Reporting A Crime

Chapter 5     Aunt Nora and Uncle Chris

Chapter 6     The Answers About Phil

Chapter 7     Sid and Xenia Edge

Chapter 8     Pre-Race Interview

Chapter 9     The Big Surprise

Chapter 10   The Meeting with Anzor Aran

Epilogue

In class, teachers always need your attention, but the teachers also need to pay attention to their students. Without healthy and legit communication, there is no class.

-Miles Monahan.

A hero is only as strong as the enemies he defeats.

-Hugo Martin Marty Stratton Quake Con 2018

Intro…

The first part of this story involves a spokesperson, a very tall, built and handsome man. His brown hair was combed back and shined with hair gel that reflected off the bright lights. He wore a uniform that looked like some kind of military, but he was never in the armed forces. It was strictly a gimmick he chose to portray for this story. He wore narrow fitting, Dacron trousers that reached down to about their calves and thus revealed his Chelsea boots, all of which are colored tawny. These were paired with long, patterned socks colored ochre. His shirt was standard and it buttoned up fully to support the elegant tie he was wearing. On top of the shirt was a stylish vest with six buttons. It had a very narrow v-line, which allowed for a large portion of the top to remain visible, even if the suit’s jacket was buttoned up. He introduced himself as he stood behind tall palm trees, a white sandy beach and a large obstacle course.

Hello reader, my name is Alexei Mangearus. I am the spokesman for this novel and I have to lay down some strict rules when you read this book. In this story, stunts are wild, competition is as hype as it is dope. Like the title, its extreme… very extreme. You may have heard this from numerous racing games and racing movies. Keep all your thrills in this book, nobody will act like the way they are going to in reality, but things can get a little inspiring. Athletes like me and everyone else you will see put their bodies, careers and lives on the line. We spent decades training for these courageous stunts to entertain you. Broken bones, torn muscles, dislocations, separations, concussions and other organ damages have resulted. Don’t think none of the above can’t happen to you, because no one is above the law and above death. Keep it safe, both on your feet and on the road. For your safety and young life ahead of you, please do NOT try this at home. Keep reading and get inspired by our great heroes.

Mangearus was right; he did not speak lies of what might happen in these bold stunts. The bravery of these athletes will be tested so do us all a favor and don’t try this at home.

Prologue

Extreme Sports competitions were even more enthusiastic, more elevated and now come from all over the world. People from the countries like Somalia, Cuba and Columbia. England, Norway, Scotland and New Zealand. Thousands of these countries’ athletes train, eat, sleep and conquer whatever obstacles come their way. The Frenchmen in their parkour running, the Russians with their brute strength and the Canadians with their icy mountain climbs. The other ones were anybody who had a thirst to prove themselves, conquer their fear of heights and weren’t afraid of surprises, pain or death. On the contrary: heights, pain and death should be afraid of them. They are the David and their stunts are the Goliath; all they need for these thrills are the right kind of gear, a GoPro camera and someone willing to challenge them. But in all seriousness, there will be one man from a boring little town way up North in New Hampshire who will soon find out about these events. Nobody would expect an underdog like him to be so successful. Because he was from such a small town, with no physical training or experience, they thought he would fail miserably. It would turn out that they were wrong, he would rise with the ranks and become a champion. A worldwide phenom, a role model, a son, a friend, a leader. He would soon become the best everyone had ever seen. But who was this man? If you are reading this surely you could do the math right. It’s the year 2018 and he was born on May 19th 2004. That’s right, he was born in 2004. This man was actually a boy; no older than fourteen. What did you expect? Fourteen had been considered the new prime nowadays. Want to know his name? They call him, nonother than Gaius Joseph Silverstrike.

Act 1

AUGUST WITH GUTS

Chapter 1

A Madman’s Escape

Ashie Silverstrike was light-hearted, daring, sincere and perhaps a little too rash. But this is all just a facade, a mechanism to deal with her position. She was born into a large family in a normal community. Ashie lived free of trouble until she was about ten years old, but at that point her life changed. She started to experience the world and was strengthening the relationship with both parents. With a great companion she reached the top in a crazy world. With her brilliance and determination there was nothing to stop her from accomplishing all her goals. Ashie could quickly become a great leader, perhaps even of the nation. But there may be more to it than this; she was currently searching for a higher purpose. She felt like there were more challenges than people let on in this world. Luckily, she had great people around to support her. Today Ashie was a mother with a son by the name Gaius Silverstrike. He was a young boy who grew up with many disfigurements. Ashie never abused him, she would kill herself if she ever let that happen. The reason why was that her husband was truly insane, an absolute brute that thought Gaius disrespected him. What could Gaius do about it, he was only a small child? Ashie refused to even talk about it or say his name. Today Gaius was fourteen and to the bigger kids around him, he was incapable. The reason why? Gaius was so much smaller than all of the bullies. Girls ignored him, rather wanting to date the athletes and tall capable men. Gaius was able not to be hurt by them physically. Teachers gave them very strict rules to not harm him. Due to his massive amount of scars, it was true that he had suffered enough. Gaius was closer to the average teenager height. Most of the athletes were above six-foot-four and loaded with muscle. Every day Gaius would wake up, eat his breakfast, go to school, come home and ignore the terror around him. He just hoped one day he would find a purpose in his life and show his mother that he could change and become a very capable young man.

Fourteen years ago, a man that went by the name Philip Silverstrike was married to his wife, Ashie and their son Gaius. When Ashie married Philip she thought nothing could go wrong. She loved her husband; his bald head was very attractive. So many public figures have had bald heads with handsome faces. Jason Statham, the Rock and many more have been noted as very attractive men. But unlike those public figures, Philip had become very violent with Ashie. Mostly verbal abuse but it did not end for a very long time. Neighbors knew it was only a matter of time before the police were going to be called to their residence.

Philp had a job as a garbageman. Every day he would go out and put his safety vest and gloves on and go out to collect waste and dispose it. The co-workers hated working with Philip and had written numerous complaints about his attitude. He always yelled at them,

Get a move on you worthless piece of crap!

But that wasn’t even the worst of his language. He would say just about everything in a fit of rage and sour moods. Today would soon be his end and he would truly lose his mind.

Collecting garbage in a small neighborhood just outside Brantford New Hampshire Philip was cussing at his driver, saying,

If you would stop being a dick and shave that dreadlocks of yours, you would smell better in your efforts. Jesus Tom, what the hell were you thinking getting that hairdo?

Tom the driver who was of Jamaican decent really didn’t like his epithets and use of verbal abuse. Of course, Jamaicans had dreadlocks, it was part of their culture in their land. Tom responded back to Philip,

You should try it yourself sometime. Oh, dat’s right! You can’t because you got no hair mon. Put a wig on your chrome dome.

Philip glared at him and wasn’t liking how Tom just insulted him. He threatened him,

You better watch yourself, boy.

Tom had the unwise thought that Philip was all bark and no bite. They came by one house that was kind of nice looking. From outside this house it looked warm and cozy. It had been built with wood covered in render and had blue stone decorations. Small, rectangular windows add to the overall look of the house and that had been added to the house in a fairly asymmetrical pattern. The house was equipped with an old-fashioned kitchen and one large bathroom. It also had a cozy living room, two bedrooms, a spacious dining area, a study and a large storage room. The building was shaped like a short U. The two extensions extended into overgrown wooden overhanging panels to each side. The second floor was bigger than the first, which created several overhanging parts on one side of the house. This floor had a different style than the floor below. The roof was low and pyramid shaped and was covered with black ceramic tiles. Two small chimneys sat at either side of the house. A few round, small windows let in enough light to the rooms below the roof. The house itself was surrounded by a tranquil garden, with various flowers, a long pond including a small waterfall and various rock formations. Philip was impressed with the house, however, when the owner came out getting his garbage ready for disposal, he didn’t like him. He recognized the person who was taking out the trash. It was by a man by the name of Rocco Reese, a well-respected member of the community, but Philip had some delusional thoughts that he wasn’t taking his wealth too seriously. Rocco Reese was an old man, about sixty-three years old and had a bit of a limp in his right leg. Philip told him,

Oh, look what the cat coughed up. You should take care of your own trash with your personal garbage man.

Tom cried out from the inside of the truck trying to stop him from saying anything bad,

Knock it off, Phil! The last ding you need is a lawsuit on your hands.

Nobody’s talking to you, homeboy so shut up and get the garbage.

Rocco grabbed his hips and knew a middle-class citizen was insulting his lifestyle. He told Philip,

At least I don’t badger my neighbors because they are peasants themselves.

That was when Philip grabbed his belt, yanked it out of his pants and while Rocco’s back was turned, he whipped him. He struck him with the belt so hard that Rocco fell to the ground writhing in pain. Philip struck him again and again and Rocco was feeling unbelievable pain right now. Every movement sent waves of throbbing pain through his chest and back. It was exhausting and he felt sick, but there seemed to be nothing he could do about it. Surely this pain would stop soon. Surely there’s an end to this. He wasn’t so sure however and ready to give up because of it. Rocco took a moment to gather his thoughts, but even this proved a hassle and a pain as conflicting thoughts corrupted his mind. He massaged his temples and for a moment tried to block out all the pain in order to press onward. Perhaps against his better judgment he swallowed the pain and continued onward but taking at least some care to prevent making it worse. Finally, Tom came rushing out and grabbed Philip by the arms and tried to restrain him. The police were quickly called to the scene and they saw Philip fighting with Tom and they rushed in and tackled him. Putting up a serious fight, they called out,

Put your hands behind your back! Stop resisting! Stop resisting! Stop resisting!

They finally put handcuffs on him and hauled him away in their patrol car.

As a result of Philip’s outburst and attack on the poor old man he was charged with aggravated assault with a deadly weapon and he was fired from his job. The police weren’t even comfortable letting him go home to his wife and son. The judge arrogantly allowed it anyway, but when he came home, nothing good came out of it. Ashie was beaten, Gaius was abused so severely that the police were called for a second time. They knew Philip was not mentally competent to keep his existence. Psych services hauled him away in a straightjacket. Ashie had minor bumps and bruises but their seven-year-old child had cuts all over him. It was an absolute shock to all of them; not only did he live, he never screamed. Gaius would survive his injuries and not remember his trauma. But his father Philip had left him with all sorts of reminders on his body. Ashie had to temporarily put Gaius in a foster home under her own power. Child Services thought that was a good idea, not only was she acting in her son’s best interest, she was trying to overcome her depression of domestic violence abuse. All the women and men who worked with child services knew that was possibly the best choice she could make. As parents themselves, they wouldn’t do anything differently.

After a while Gaius’ cuts healed and his mother had her depression under control. As for Philip he was stuck in rehab for his violent temper. Doctors at Seacoast Medical Center hadn’t seen someone so belligerent and violent their whole careers. He refused to take medicine and fought them every time they tried to work with him. The head shrink, Dr. Adam Maxwell had recorded his therapy session. He said on his recording,

Patient’s name is Philip Silverstrike. Thirty-nine years old and brought here for his issues with violence. He refuses to take medicine and has some kind of delusional thought that hitting women is natural.

After three weeks of therapy Philip did not participate or involve himself into any sessions. Dr. Maxwell said in his next recording,

He is disturbing our patients. Fighting with guards and staff almost every day of the week. If this does not stop, we must find some other ways to get his cooperation.

But before they could find the right medicine, they found Philip in his room just sitting there. He had some kind of towel around his head and face. When they entered, he attacked them and tried escaping the hospital. Philip shoulder-blocked everyone and kicked them while they tried to tackle him. Somehow, he had been through this already, he had some kind of previous training on how to escape takedowns like that. The doctors and guards were helpless and powerless to stop him. Due to his added strength, the doors keeping them locked in was useless to Philip. Finally, when he got outside, the police were able to stop him and taser him. However, when they took off his towel mask, it wasn’t Philip, it was one of their current patients that had been taken down before. It turned out Philip had predicted they would check on him. Somehow, he escaped after the shrinks locked the entire hospital down. Dr. Maxwell said to his staff almost panicking,

Where is he? Where is he?! Where the hell is he?!

The hospital checked thoroughly and they all turned up with nothing. Philip Silverstrike had disappeared and was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter 2

Accepted

The sun was out but the weather was turning cold. Rays of sunlight shone down as smoke came from chimneys and basket fires below. People knew that winter was coming and ice would freeze the asphalt roofs. It would make the strongest of men slip and fall to their demise. Those men were usually construction workers and repair men. It was a boring town in Brantford New Hampshire and young Gaius Silverstrike was walking the street listening to his headphones which were kind of big. His hair was jet black, shortly spiked on the top with a small ponytail behind his neck. His eyes were pale blue within a gentle and somehow handsome face. In his fashion, Gaius wanted to look like a fighter. He wore a western brown leather jacket with a black muscle shirt underneath. White causal straight denim jeans with Nike sneakers designed for athletes. A stainless-steel bracelet on his right wrist and a friendship ring on his left. The ring was of his mother Ashie to let her know he would always be with her and the same said to him. He had grown up so much, he was now fourteen years old and was taking care of his mother. Despite being more than half way to a man, he wasn’t raised with less than he was born with. The only piece of fame he had was the scars all over his body. As for a quick description to really introduce him, it would go like this. Gaius Silverstrike, age fourteen. Never been in extreme sports in his life. Special skill; fast learning and quick adaptation.

Gaius walked from the grocery store when his mother told him go out and pick up a gallon of milk and a package of agnus beef. Walking on the sidewalk his headphones were kind of blasting. Thankfully Gaius was smart enough to notice the intersection coming up. Like any other responsible kid in Brantford, he stopped and looked both ways before crossing the street. Once he saw it was clear, he walked across and arrived at the other side. Safely on the other side he continued going to his home with his grocery bag filled with his mother’s needed supplies. But then a vintage convertible car rolled up and the driver honked on the horn. Gaius knew who it was; it was Deckard Owens and his posse of seniors and cheerleader girlfriend. Deckard was a big and older kid with hair that was jet black scraggly and it almost made him look like an American version of Harry Potter.

Hey Silverstrike! Deckard shouted like a madman.

Gaius just kept on walking ignoring him and his cronies. Deckard called out again as he kept walking,

I got a question for you, did you… he was interrupted when Gaius got too far.

Deckard got annoyed and rolled up his car to get closer to him. He then said,

How many scars does it take to… he was interrupted again when Gaius kept walking.

Deckard was starting to get upset and he rolled up again saying,

How many scars does it take to… yet again Gaius just kept ignoring him.

Deckard lost it and honked on his horn and didn’t let up until Gaius finally stopped. He lowered his headphones and asked him with a classic line,

Are you talking to me?

Deckard rolled up slowly that time and asked him finally,

How many scars does it take to get yourself into rehab and a straightjacket?

Gaius knew the answer to that but chose to talk back for once and said,

I don’t know, how many dementors does it take to shut you up, Harry Potter?

Deckard then turned his smile upside down and didn’t like that insult. Gaius then told him,

Fix your hair you look like you hadn’t showered in a month big boy.

He put his headphones back on and Deckard wasn’t prepared to take that insult. He whaled on his horn again and Gaius turned up the volume louder. Deckard called out,

Hey sourpuss, come back here!

He whaled on his horn again and that time it turned out to be a mistake. The police showed up and flashed their red and blue lights. Gaius just said barely hearing himself through the loud music,

Ugh, thank god.

Gaius returned home and saw his decent home that still looked very nice. From the outside this house looks posh and extravagant. It had been built with sable colored bricks with slate decorations. Tall, rectangular windows added to the overall look of the house. The house was equipped with a large kitchen and three bathrooms. It also had a comfortable living room, three bedrooms, a roomy dining room, and a small basement. The building was shaped like an L. The extension extended into a garden path reaching until the end of that side of the house. The second floor was bigger than the first, which created several overhanging parts on several sides of the house. This floor had a very different style than the floor below. The roof was low, triangular, but one side was longer than the other and was covered with slate shingles. Two large chimneys poked out the center of the roof. Several small windows let in just enough light to the rooms below the roof. The house itself was surrounded by paved ground, with a pool at the backside of the house.

Gaius entered through his home and found his mother sitting on her knees slightly whimpering. He had seen that before, it was one of her depression states of mind that weren’t flaring of the arms and shouting of the voice as it was more unpredictable crying. Ashie had long golden blonde hair and beautiful Hispanic skin. Her curves were like any man’s wife would have, body like an hourglass, widened hips and a grapefruit bosom. Gaius thought he was the luckiest teenage kid on the planet to have a mom this gorgeous. But in the end he still saw her problems and illnesses he had to make sure she controlled. He once learned about John Nash, he took medication but still saw things that weren’t there. In his maturity and tolerance he just chose not to acknowledge them. Ashie’s doctor said it was a worse depression then most children and adults get. Gaius saw that she was also sweating pretty good and her grey clothing become wet and stuck to her golden skin. He put down his grocery bag and went into the kitchen to grab a glass cup and fill it up with ice water. Gaius also drenched a cold washcloth and came back out to give it to Ashie. His mother stopped balling and saw her son had given her some water and the wet and cold cloth.

Thank you honey. She said with a distant voice.

She took the glass of water and Gaius placed the cold washcloth on her head. He knew there was good medicine for depression, but they were only affordable with insurance. Out of all the things Ashie could afford, insurance was her weakness. Without it, it would cost them thousands of dollars and they would be living on benefits and food stamps if they kept paying that kind of money. One of the reasons why Gaius never once got a haircut was because he was paranoid of his mother getting too close to sharp objects.

Ashie started to feel better but Gaius knew that wouldn’t last long. Without medicine nothing ever would. It angered him because he had seen people like this. Robin Williams committed suicide because he was suffering from depression. Mothers, fathers, children have taken their own lives before because of their constant bad moods. Every night, Gaius prayed that Ashie wouldn’t commit suicide just to relieve her pain. To make sure she didn’t get any ideas Gaius stayed outside her bathroom to make sure she didn’t use the shaving blade on her wrists or throat. Ashie wasn’t being watched by her son, that would be unnecessary. After she washed off all the