Wildfire (23 page)

‘Here,’ gasped Kelly. She bent over double, struggling to get her breath in the smoke-clogged air.

Even breathing through the wet material, Ben felt like his lungs would burst. His eyes were streaming with tears from the smoke. Slowly the shop in front of him came into focus.

It hadn’t been burned. But it had been looted.

The big glass window was shattered. He stepped in over fallen dummies, rucksacks and boots. Tiny shards of glass crunched under his feet. But at least it wasn’t filled with smoke and breathing was easier.

‘What a mess,’ Kelly said as she followed him inside.

Clothes had been pulled off the rails and shoeboxes lay scattered all over the floor.

Ben didn’t know where to start. ‘Where did they keep the power chutes?’

Kelly squatted down beside a dummy on the floor. ‘It was here. Someone took it.’ She suddenly sounded close to tears.

Ben had a terrible sinking feeling. They had burned their bridges coming here – and now, it seemed, not only was there no way to get to Bel; they had no escape route themselves.

He saw a door to a stockroom at the back of the shop and hurried across, trampling over a pile of discarded jackets. Kelly seemed dangerously close to giving up: he had to keep them both going. ‘They wouldn’t just have the one on display,’ he called. ‘Come and help me look.’

The stockroom was piled high with boxes. Kelly appeared beside him and pointed at a high shelf. ‘Up there! That’s what you want.’ There was hope in her voice again.

Ben climbed up the shelves and saw a stack of boxes with a picture of a power chute on the side. They were
heavy and he had to brace his feet on the lower shelf before grabbing the boxes with both hands and pulling. Several boxes came out at once. Kelly dodged out of the way as they avalanched to the floor. Ben jumped down and passed one to her, then picked one up for himself.

They hurried back to the front window, their feet skating on the shattered glass. ‘We’ll have to put them on outside otherwise the chute will get tangled up,’ Kelly told Ben. She reached the pavement and put the box down, then stopped, all the fight gone out of her.

‘What’s the matter?’ said Ben, laying his box down next to hers.

‘I just realized. They don’t keep them fuelled in the shop.’ She looked at him, tears in her eyes. ‘Where are we going to get any gas?’ After the strain of the past few hours, she was exhausted.

Ben felt exhausted too, but one thing he’d inherited from his mother: he didn’t know how to quit. He spotted an old Land Rover, crusted with outback mud, parked at the end of the precinct. Like the shops, it had escaped fire damage. ‘We’ll get petrol out of that—’

Kelly shook her head. ‘No good. The chutes need a two-stroke mix, like the microlight. We could have got it back at the gas station …’ Her words trailed off.

Ben looked around, desperate for inspiration. Above the roofs, he could see a pall of black smoke in the direction they’d come from. Was it coming from the building next to the petrol station? It was certainly burning fiercely.

They had to keep going, he told himself firmly. They couldn’t give up.

‘You get the chutes ready,’ he said, ‘and I’ll worry about the fuel.’

A look of horror came over Kelly’s face. She laid a bandaged hand on his arm. ‘Be careful.’

Ben set off at a run, back towards the petrol station. Hot smoke smothered him like a filthy wet blanket. Even when he held the wet material over his face it didn’t seem to make much difference, but he forced himself to keep running. He had to get to the petrol station before the flames from the office building did.

His brain was working even faster than his legs. He needed a plan. As soon as he got to the roundabout, he’d be able to see whether he could safely reach the
petrol station. If he was in any doubt, he’d turn round and come back.

It was a crazy plan. But without the fuel for the power chutes they couldn’t get out of the city, which was worse.

He ran across the green and had to break stride to avoid tripping over something lying in his path. He almost failed to see it in the smoke.

He continued for a few paces, then stopped and looked back. It was a lawnmower.

Kelly had got the chutes laid out on the ground. They looked like giant flowers – one blue and lime-green, the other purple and pink. She looked up when she heard the screech of metal scraping over paving slabs. Ben was dragging the lawnmower noisily back towards her.

‘Here’s our fuel. Lawnmowers use a two-stroke mix, don’t they? We need something to put it in.’ He dashed through the broken shop window, grabbed a billycan from the camping display, took it to the lawnmower and tipped the fuel out.

‘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.

Ben tried to slow down, but Bel was powering forwards, pulling him along by the harness. He yelled in her ear, ‘Stop!’