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.And get it right.We don’t have an engine to get us out of trouble so there are no second chances.’Ben took the controls gingerly.Without the engine noise he could hear every creak in the microlight’s frame.When he moved the pedals it was even worse: they made thumping noises in the floor and behind him.When he used the stick it made the whole wing move.‘Ben,’ shouted Kelly, ‘stop being so feeble! Fly the darned thing!’Carefully he lined up the plane on the road.The river was in the middle of his horizon – a murky ribbon growing bigger by the second.The town was beyond.A pall of wet smoke blew towards them.It was like trying to catch your breath inside a wet towel.‘Get the nose down more,’ said Kelly.‘Stop looking downwards – look at where you’re planning to stop.’Their height was 70 feet and the road filled Ben’s windscreen now.His palms were slick with sweat on the controls.Like when they had landed in the desert before, everything on the ground started getting big; everything except the bridge, which looked like a very small target indeed, a hump of tarmac with some thin white lines marking out the traffic lanes.It would be easy to misjudge it and end up in the river.And the river didn’t look like a friendly place to land.It was full of debris, some still burning, some sooty and black – all of it charging along in the current like a mad boat race.‘Nose up,’ said Kelly.‘Or we’ll keep gathering speed and bulldoze into the ground.’Ben tweaked the stick back and the microlight seesawed backwards.Without the engine noise he had completely lost his feel for the craft.Kelly growled in irritation and elbowed the stick forward.The nose pointed down again.The road surface was so close they could see dark smears of tyre rubber on the white lines.Kelly’s face was grim with concentration.‘Nose up slowly.’Ben followed her instructions and there was a bump as the back wheels hit the road.‘We’re down,’ said Kelly.‘Stick forward.Brake on.’ Ben squeezed the brake.Lampposts and signs whizzed past at a frightening speed.Coming in at 110 kilometres per hour had been scary enough in the desert, but in a built-up area it felt positively suicidal.Ben was braking, but the road surface was slick with water and the tyres had no friction.The bridge led into a roundabout.Ahead was a black and white chevron sign.There was no way they would stop in time.‘Oh no!’ gasped Kelly.‘I’ll have to steer around it!’ yelled Ben.He pulled the plane hard left.And Kelly pumped the pedals hard right.The microlight skidded on the wet road and slid sideways past a row of burned-out cars.‘Don’t you know which way to go round a round-about?’ yelled Ben.‘We don’t have roundabouts in the States,’ retorted Kelly.Water and oil were smeared all over the road, turning it into a skating rink.The plane skidded forwards, jolting its two passengers with every bump in the road, and Ben visualized the spindly undercarriage hitting a pothole and snapping.He tried the brake but the wheels had locked.They would just have to wait until the microlight slowed down by itself.Behind the cars was a burned-out building.Soot streaked its white façade; its windows were blackened holes and pockets of orange fire still glowed in its interior.The building next to it was still burning, pumping dark smoke into the skyKelly 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 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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