Kelly tried to grab Ben’s arm with her mittened hand. ‘Ben, look!’
Ben followed her gaze and his blood ran cold.
Two doors along from the burning building was a petrol station. So far the flames hadn’t reached it, but it would only take one stray spark to ignite the whole thing.
And the microlight was heading straight towards it.
Ben grasped the stick firmly and squeezed the brake. The wheels were still locked. Nothing happened.
He unfastened his seat belt, then reached across and undid Kelly’s. ‘We’ve got to bale out — now.’
She held up her hands, helpless. ‘I can’t open my door.’
‘Come out my side.’ Ben flicked open the door catch.
Kelly looked down at the road, an expression of horror on her face. She looked like she had frozen.
‘Don’t be so feeble!’ yelled Ben. He clambered awkwardly out of the cockpit, then leaned back in to grab Kelly by the scruff of her neck and drag her across to the opening. She came out backwards, her bandaged hands painfully smacking into the ground as she half-fell, half-climbed out of the plane. Ben rolled on the tarmac, then got straight to his feet, easing the pain from his bashed elbows and knees. Kelly crouched on the ground, her eyes on the microlight, her hands tucked under her armpits.
The plane crunched side on into a yellow rubbish skip. The metal frame bent like wire and the taut wing material tore loose to hang down in ribbons. The steel cables that held the entire structure together from pedals to rudder snapped, whipping into the air. The cables swung into the Perspex cockpit and shattered it.
Ben winced. ‘Oops. I’m glad we weren’t inside when that happened. Did you have it insured?’
‘You’re not even old enough to know what insurance is.’ Kelly sat up and gazed around at the smoking buildings. ‘Talk about out of the frying pan … How do you propose we’re going to get out of here? Or find your mother, come to that.’
‘We can get out on the river. I know how to drive a boat.’
‘Yeah? Better than you fly a plane, I hope.’ Kelly got to her feet. As she did so, something fell out of her pocket; she tried to catch it, but it slipped out of her bandaged hands and hit the tarmac. Her phone. She gave Ben an appealing look.
He shook his head. ‘Surely you don’t trust me to pick it up for you — I might break it,’ he said crossly. ‘After all, I’m really useless, according to you.’
‘Please. I’m sure you’re great with boats. And your flying’s really not too bad.’
Ben picked up the phone and tried to dial Bel. His own had been left in the plane. Kelly’s picture of the red and pink power chute glowed but the keyboard didn’t respond.
‘I think it’s broken.’
‘Oh great!’ Kelly stamped her foot. If she could have grabbed the phone in her bandaged mittens, she looked about ready to throw it in the river.
But Ben had an idea. He turned the phone display towards Kelly. ‘You bought one of these chute things this morning, didn’t you. Where’s the shop?’
‘Whitmoor Square. It’s just over there by the park we tried to land in.’
He slipped the phone back into her pocket. ‘That’s where we’re going. We’ll get some of those chute things, pick Mum up, and then head out towards the sea.’ He started running in the direction of the park.
Kelly set off after him. ‘I thought you were going to get a boat.’
‘I don’t see any boats,’ said Ben. ‘And we can’t take a boat up on the tram station roof.’
As Ben ran, he saw something he really didn’t like. The fire from the burning building had spread. Already the offices next door to the petrol station were ablaze. It was only a matter of time before the petrol tanks caught. Then the whole place was going to go sky high.
Chapter Twenty-one
Ben was a good runner. Being tall for his age, he usually made good times on the athletics field. Kelly seemed to be pretty fit too and she had no trouble keeping up. They set off at a good pace down a road lined with dripping, black buildings.
As they ran, waves of heat pressed against them on all sides like a wall and thick drifts of smoke clogged their lungs. Coughing, Ben stopped for a moment and waited with hands on knees. Sprinting was easy enough in clean air, but it wasn’t so easy when you had to hold your breath.
He looked round and saw Kelly staggering along. She looked as though she had already run a marathon. He leaned on an abandoned car to try and get his breath, and saw through the window that there was a bottle of water and a navy blue sweatshirt on the passenger seat. He pulled open the door, grabbed the sweatshirt and ripped it in two. He seized the water and poured it out over the material, then ran back to Kelly.
He took her by the elbow and held the wet material up to her face. ‘I’m going to tie this on your face like a mask,’ he said. ‘You’ll find it easier to breathe.’ His words came out in gasps between the drifting clouds of smoke. He also wanted to warn her that the petrol station was going to blow, but he didn’t have the breath.
She nodded, and stood while he fastened the material behind her head. Then he held the other piece over his mouth and started to run. Kelly followed, her eyes over the top of the mask wide with fear.
A fire-engine siren reverberated between the buildings. Ben looked round, expecting to see a truck heading towards them, but then realized it must have been a few streets away. The damp air magnified the sound.
As he set off again, he looked at the burned-out buildings — they were straight out of a nightmare. A thought occurred to him and he wished it hadn’t — would the shop they were looking for still be there? Or would the flames have already gutted it?
Kelly buffeted him with her bandaged hand. ‘Not that way; over here.’ The mask had slipped down around her neck. She tried to push it up as she led the way into a shopping precinct.
‘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.