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Back Whirlwind Save as PDF
Chapters (95)
  1. Title Page
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. 85
  87. 86
  88. 87
  89. 88
  90. 89
  91. 90
  92. 91
  93. 92
  94. Also by DAVID KLASS
  95. Copyright Page

What’s the point, anyway? By now the Dark Army has got the entire fairground surrounded.

We are on the slow part of the Death Coaster, when passengers are given a few seconds to recover. We’re rolling along a straightaway, fifteen feet above the ground. Kids wave to us. I scan the nearby exits and don’t spot any Dark Army operatives. But I have no doubt that Gisco’s right. They’re down there.

What I do see is a noisy kaleidoscope of food stands, a Fun House, a booth with a prize pig, a balloonist offering rides, a chance to take photos with a mock-up of Niagara Falls, and about a thousand screaming kids.

This fair is total chaos, I point out to Gisco. There must be a way to squeeze out unobserved. Maybe we could steal a car or hide in the back of a truck.

They can anticipate our need to flee and they’ve got super-advanced search technologies, the dog explains. If even a single hair from either of us passes out an exit, they’ll know. They’re checking every van, every car, everything with a combustion engine for our DNA.

His words give me the inkling of an idea. Something I once saw in a fair, near Hadley. Gisco, that’s it!

What’s what?

Maybe we can beat their super-advanced technologies with something primitive. But we have to get off this Death Coaster.

There’s no way off this ride. We’re starting to climb again if you hadn’t noticed.

Look! There’s a trampoline tent coming up below.

You’re kidding, right? It’s filled with kids.

They just emptied it out and they haven’t taken in a new batch yet. We’ve got to try. I contort my body and manage to squirm out from under the safety bar. I stand up in the car.

Jack, we’re too high up. We don’t have a prayer.

It’s dive or die time, dog.

I calculate speed and distance as best I can, and throw myself over the side of the car headfirst. The boy behind me shouts, “Hey, mister, you really can’t do that.”

A second later I hear: “And neither can you, dog. I’m going to report you both.”

18

18

Free-failing. We waited too long to jump. We’re going to miss the trampoline and land on a merry-go-round.

I remember Eko’s flying lessons on the Outer Banks. How she made me run through a natural wind tunnel with my arms outstretched. I felt foolish. “You can learn to do this,” she chided me. “Use your whole body. Your legs. Your trunk. Your spirit.”

I try to wipe my mind clean. Hard thing to do when you’re about to go splat on rearing horses and cheerily painted sleighs. Not to mention the merry-go-round’s steel base. Can’t worry about that. No fear, no calculation, no thinking at all allowed.