by Chris Ryan
‘The fuel cap for the power pack is on the top,’ said Kelly.
Now Ben saw the power packs for the first time; they looked like giant fans on metal frames, with a mass of straps and clips. Kelly had stood them upright, ready for use.
As he poured the viscous liquid into the fuel tanks, Ben glanced up at the roofline and the black smoke beyond the burning offices. If he hadn’t found the lawnmower he might be there now.
Ben tossed the billycan away. ‘Ready.’
Kelly crouched down beside one of the engines.
‘Pull that red cord to start the engine, then put it on my back. Fasten everything tightly. It’s basically a parachute harness with an industrial-strength fan attached.’
Ben shook his head, confused. ‘You want me to start it and then put it on your back? Not the other way round?’
‘That’s just the way it’s done,’ said Kelly. ‘Now hurry up.’
Ben pulled the cord. The engine roared into life and the white propeller inside its frame quickly became a blur. He fastened the harness around Kelly’s waist and chest, then she got to her feet. Red webbing straps dangled between her legs. Ben fastened those too.
‘Attach the two clips from the chute to my shoulders and put my hands through the steering loops — those red things by the harness,’ Kelly told him.
Ben did that, then hooked the throttle cord through the harness so she could reach it with her teeth.
‘It should be easy to see the tram station when we’re in the air,’ he said. A sudden thought occurred to him. ‘Can these things carry two people?’
Kelly thought for a moment. ‘They can take a sixteen-stone man and your mom must weigh less than half that. I weigh eight stone so I should be able to take her. She can cling to me.’
Above the trees, the plume of smoke continued to boil. It was getting bigger and darker.
Ben started his engine, put it on his back and set up his harness and controls. The spinning propeller reverberated through the metal frame to his very bones.
‘Ready?’ said Kelly.
Ben nodded.
‘Do what I do. When the chute inflates, pull on the throttle and take your feet off the ground.’ She took the throttle between her teeth, then set off at a run down the street.
The lime-green chute flared out behind her like the train of a wedding dress. Ben followed the trailing material, making sure to leave enough room for her to get clear ahead of him. Just as he thought it would never get off the ground, the breeze caught the chute and started to lift it. Kelly opened the throttle. The engine roared. To Ben’s amazement, her feet left the ground.
Ben felt the chute pull at his shoulders. He glanced behind. The pink material was fluttering up into the air. He pulled on the throttle. The chute filled with air and pulled him upwards. In moments he was soaring into the sky.
It was an amazing feeling. Flying the microlight had been fun but this was ten times better. It was so free, he felt like a bird. If only the engine was quieter it would be perfect.
Kelly climbed in a circling pattern. Ben copied her. The chute was easy to steer — just pull the cord and you went in that direction. In moments they were hanging above the roofs. Smoke blew past in drifting clouds. Through it they caught a glimpse of chimneys and steep roofs. The burning offices by the petrol station were completely obscured by a black pool of smoke.
Where was the tram station? Ben wondered. He had lost his bearings. He could see abandoned vehicles and fire engines, but no trams. The roofs around them were a mass of geometric shapes in tones of grey and black. He tried to slow down, so that he could hover in one place and get a proper look at the ground.
Suddenly a thermal shot him up twenty feet. He gunned the throttle to regain control. So that explained why Kelly was circling constantly.
He looked down. He was flying over the petrol station. The wind was now blowing the black smoke away, revealing the low white roof over the forecourt. It was surrounded by a sinister border of orange flames.
They had to find Bel quickly. If the petrol tanks under the station forecourt went up, they would be engulfed in the fireball like insects in a flame.
Then Ben caught sight of something below him. Down in the murk, a bright yellow smudge beneath the cloud of smoke. It was moving. No … waving.
Ben eased up on the throttle and went down.
The yellow smudge took shape. It was a small red-headed figure waving a bright yellow fireman’s jacket.
‘Mum!’ yelled Ben.
She was standing on a long, low roof lined with metal walkways and rows of skylights. That was obviously the tram station.
As she saw him she started waving more frantically.
Ben craned his neck and spotted Kelly’s lime-green chute circling a short distance away. Ben flew up to get her attention, then headed back to the tram station roof — where Bel was now waving the jacket with a vigour bordering on fury. Ben cracked a smile as he saw her shouting up at him. When he flew off, she must have thought he hadn’t seen her.
Ben flew in a small circle over the roof. Kelly was right behind him. She cut the revs of her engine to a gentle chug, and flared the pulleys on her chute so that she floated gently down.
Bel saw she was about to be rescued. She put the jacket on and looked up expectantly, but Kelly suddenly pulled the throttle and rose up again, away from the roof.
She manoeuvred her chute over until she was hovering opposite Ben. He shook his head, baffled, trying to mime, What’s going on?
Kelly indicated her bandaged hands.
So what? thought Ben. Then understanding dawned. Kelly couldn’t hold onto Bel and operate her chute at the same time.
Ben nodded. He would have to go down and get Bel himself.
He cut the revs and the chute began to drift slowly down. But would his chute be able to lift both of them? Ben figured he must be a lot heavier than Kelly.
Bel was glaring up at him, hands on hips, annoyed. Her blue eyes flashed in her grimy face. He saw her mouth something that was probably the sort of thing a thirteen-year-old shouldn’t hear his mother saying.
Ben was aiming to land next to her but an air current took him over to the other side of the roof and deposited him on the glass canopy. Still partly supported by the chute, he had no choice but to run along the glass roof. At any moment he expected to crash through the panes, but obviously they were stronger than they looked. He half ran, half flew over to where Bel was standing.
‘Mum, quick,’ he gasped. ‘Hook your arms into my harness.’
He expected Bel to obey immediately, but instead she looked at him with a sceptical expression.
Behind her he could see the plume of smoke rising from the petrol station. It was getting darker as the thick smoke shut out the light from the setting sun.
‘Ben,’ she said, ‘you surely don’t expect that thing to carry the both of us?’
Typical! Ben thought. Here he was, risking his life, and his mother — just as she used to do when he did anything dubious as a small child — seemed to be angry, rather than worried about him. What was it with parents? How come they just slipped into telling-off mode in any situation?
‘I didn’t have time to pack a spare!’ he almost screamed at her.
The more he lost his temper, the more Bel dug her heels in. He forced himself to speak very calmly. ‘Let’s say we’ve got a fifty-fifty chance. Could be worse.’
Bel still looked dubious, but she took a step towards him.
‘Hurry!’ he yelled.
At last Bel seemed to understand it was an emergency. She turned round so that she faced forward and put her arms into his harness. Ben un-fastened the waist band and adjusted it so it would go around her too. Hastily he buckled her in front of him. She smelled of wet soot and smoke, and chemicals.
‘Now what?’ said Bel.
‘Now we have to run like blazes!’
It was awkward, like running in one of those races where you’re tied to someone else.
The chute began to catch the air and rose, dragging upwards on his shoulders. Ben pulled on the throttle. The engine roared, but it didn’t pull them into the air. Something was wrong.
The chute didn’t have enough power to lift them.
Chapter Twenty-two
Ben tried to slow down, but Bel was powering forwards, pulling him along by the harness. He yelled in her ear, ‘Stop!’
Bel stumbled to a halt and he nearly fell over her.
‘What did you do that for?’ she snapped.
‘You’re too heavy,’ Ben gasped. He unclipped the waist harness and Bel half fell forward.
She twisted round and looked at him, furious. Her red hair was nearly black with sweat and soot. In fact most of her was. ‘Don’t be so rude.’
‘It’s that jacket. You’ll have to take it off.’ With one hand he yanked the jacket off her shoulders, then saw her boots.
‘Take those off too,’ he said, pointing. ‘They must weigh five pounds each! Jesus, Mum, you picked a hell of a time to give up wearing sandals.’
‘Take off my boots?’ said Bel. ‘Have you gone mad?’
‘Yes, and take mine off too. Otherwise we won’t be able to get airborne.’
She knelt down, obviously not convinced he was entirely sane.
‘Try and do it sometime today,’ shouted Ben.
‘There’s a petrol station over there and it’s about to blow.’
‘There’s no need for sarcasm,’ she said. But the thought of an exploding petrol station obviously persuaded her. She undid his bootlaces, grumbling, ‘I haven’t done this to you since you were three years old. Foot up.’
Ben lifted his foot. ‘Yeah, yeah,’ he muttered.
She got one boot off, then the other. The sky was growing darker and darker.
Ben saw Kelly, a lime-green figure high in the grey clouds. She was already making good progress towards the sea.
Bel knelt down and unfastened her own boots. She had done them up securely with double knots because they were a size too big.
While she fumbled with them, Ben watched the roof of the petrol station. The flames were getting higher and burning debris was dropping down onto the fore-court. Then a chunk of blazing roof fabric landed near one of the pumps.
‘Hurry up!’ yelled Ben.
‘I’m going as fast as I can,’ grumbled Bel.
‘Well, go faster,’ retorted Ben, ‘or we’ve had it.’
The piece of roof was throwing out flames and sparks barely half a metre away from the looped hose of the pump. Ben watched the progress of the flames with the same fascination that a mouse watches a cat stalk towards it.
Bel stood up, both boots off. She turned her back to Ben and hooked her arms into the shoulder straps. Ben again fastened the waistband and the leg straps.
‘You know the routine,’ he shouted. ‘On your marks … go!’
The roof was covered in fine gravel and it was painful to run on it in bare feet. Ben felt Bel falter with the discomfort and yelled in her ear, ‘Faster!’
The chute rose up behind. He opened the throttle. The propeller roared up to top speed.
Had they shed enough weight? Would the chute’s remaining fuel be enough to lift them?
The power pack dragged their feet clear of the roof, but it was like a badly judged take-off with too little lift. Ben kept the throttle on maximum. It wasn’t enough. They were starting to drift back down again.
Ben saw a flash out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly they shot vertically up into the air as if they’d been fired out of a cannon. The deafening roar came a split second later. A wave of heat followed, so intense that Ben felt as if his skin was peeling off. The shock wave catapulted them further up still. The sky around them was completely dark and filled with burning debris that wheeled and tumbled like a flock of birds on fire.
The flames had reached the petrol tanks in the filling station. The explosion and the immense burst of heat had rocketed them vertically upwards. Far below, under the seething black smoke, the petroleum fire blazed as bright as the sun.
Way off in the distance, Ben could see a lime-green speck. It must be Kelly. She seemed to already be well away from the danger. That told him which way to steer to reach the coast.
He pulled on the left side of the canopy, but the chute didn’t respond. He looked up. Was the steering rope caught?
Then he saw a tongue of orange flame licking at the purple fabric. One section of his canopy was a tattered scrap of smouldering material. Already he could see sky through a hole that was getting wider by the second.
Quickly, he pulled the other side. The chute responded and took him inland again, over the burning city. Now they were starting to lose height again.
Bel twisted her head and looked round at him in alarm. She spotted the hole in the canopy and her face froze in horror.
They caught another thermal and the chute soared up once more. The burning city shrank to toy size. The intense heat dissipated and Ben felt able to breathe again. Ahead, the horizon opened out and the smoke started to disperse. He could see the sea.
But did they have enough lift to get all the way there?
Now he could make out the jetty and, beyond it, the harbour. Boats covered almost every square metre of the water’s surface. People were crowded onto the decks, huddling together as they watched their city burn.
A crash landing in the harbour wouldn’t be so bad. Except that Ben wasn’t at all sure they were going to make it that far.
They were losing altitude again and he tried to open the throttle, but it was already at maximum. The hole in the chute above them was widening as the fabric continued to smoulder.
They passed over burning roofs, then a burning park, drifting lower all the time. Leaves from the trees lining the park threw sparks into the air.
They continued to descend, their feet brushing over flaming branches. Whirling cinders burned their bare soles.
Ben smelled scorching fabric and looked up. Another section of the chute had gone. He gave it another thirty seconds at most — then the power pack would be blasting air up with no chute to catch it.
They didn’t need thirty seconds. When Ben looked down again, they were sailing over the boats. They’d made it. He cut the engine. The silence was immediate and almost soothing.
But now they were falling with only a small chute like a tattered umbrella to slow their descent.
The mast of a yacht loomed up and Bel pulled her feet out of the way. Ben, reacting slower, took a painful bang to his shins. They came down even lower and passed over a large white cabin cruiser. Their feet scrabbled along the top, leaving grubby marks. They passed over another boat and Ben tried to slow them down, extending his legs to brace his feet on the cabin roof, but his bare soles slipped on it.
Still they carried on, over another cruiser, getting lower all the time.
A dinghy crossed their path. The people in it were waving and shouting at them, but there was nothing Ben could do to get out of their way. The passengers threw themselves to opposite ends of the dinghy as the four-footed purple flying creature ran through the middle of their boat.
The next thing in their path was a striped awning on a yacht. The roofs of the cabins had been solid. This was canvas, like a tent. It bent under their weight; then, with a loud crack, one of the poles supporting the awning gave way. The canvas roof turned into a slide, and Ben and Bel found themselves tumbling towards a large square of sapphire blue.
The yacht’s swimming pool.
They hit the water with a splash. Fortunately the water wasn’t deep. Ben managed to stand up and unfasten the waist band. Wet purple fabric clung to their heads like a clammy skin as he and Bel battled to get out of the harness.
When Ben had fought his way out of the chute, he saw a row of people in swimsuits and sun hats. They were all holding drinks and looking at the new arrivals in astonishment.
He swam to the side of the pool. A bronzed Australian girl with
pink-streaked blonde hair smiled down at him. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked.
Bel emerged from the other end of the chute. Her face was streaked with soot and her red hair was a tangled mess. She waded to the steps at the end of the pool and climbed out, her hand outstretched to introduce herself.
‘Er — sorry about dropping in unannounced. Hi. I’m
Dr Bel Kelland and this is my son Ben.’
A man in a peaked cap put his drink down and went to help her. ‘Did you come from the city?’
Bel nodded. Water made sooty pools around her bare feet.
One of the women picked up a blue towel, put it around Bel’s shoulders and invited her to sit on a sun lounger.
Suddenly there was a titanic boom and for a moment everyone looked at each other. It was so loud, it shook the sky overhead. Was it another explosion from the city? It seemed incredible — the sound was louder than a hundred petrol stations blowing up. Then the penny dropped.
‘It’s thunder!’ said the girl with the pink-streaked hair.
The heavens opened and rain came down. It was real summer storm rain, lashing down onto the deck in great, fat, splashy drops. The woman hurried Bel inside, while the girl helped Ben drag the chute and the soaked engine out of the pool.
He didn’t go in immediately. He stood on the sun deck, marvelling at the feel of rain on his hot skin …
Chapter Twenty-three
Ben walked down the corridor, a bunch of flowers in one hand, looking for room 319. The private hospital in Melbourne didn’t smell like a hospital, or even look much like one. With its pale yellow walls and pastelcoloured paintings it seemed more like a hotel. At the moment, filled with an overspill of patients from other hospitals, it was like a hotel that had been seriously overbooked.
He found the room and knocked. He heard the TV being silenced and then a voice called out, ‘Come in.’ The voice was American. It sounded hoarse.
Ben walked in.
‘Oh, it’s you.’
Kelly was sitting up in bed. The bandages on her hands looked a bit cleaner than the last time Ben had seen her. There was an oxygen mask hanging from a rail above the bed. As usual, she was anything but pleased to see him.
