Don't Tell Anyone (11 page)

“We may bump when we touch down,” he said. “Hang on.”

A short time later, the basket banged against the ground, bounced upward, hit again, and finally tipped over on one side. Megan managed to hang on to the edge and not be thrown out. The basket slid a few feet on its side before it came to a stop.

The balloon slowly deflated, coming to rest on the ground.

Megan crawled out of the basket and stood up. She wanted to run away, but she had no idea where she was or which way to go. She smelled cedar trees but could not see them in the dark.

Shane got out of the basket, too. He walked away from her as if he knew exactly where he was going.

The cell phone, Megan thought. Here's my chance to get the telephone and call for help. Even though I don't know where we are, I can say we've landed. The other pilots at the festival would be able to figure out approximately how far a balloon could go in the amount of time they had been gone.

She crawled back into the basket, feeling in the darkness for the telephone. She found it, but it was too dark to see the numbers. Holding the phone, she got out of the basket.

Suddenly bright lights shone directly at her. Megan put her hand up to her eyes to shield them from the glare. When she squinted toward the lights, she saw that they were headlights. He had a car waiting here, she realized. He must have brought the balloon down exactly where he intended to land.

Quickly she opened the cell phone, hit 9–1–1, and then pushed “Send.” The lighted message said, “No Service.”

Disappointment sent tears to her eyes. She was too far out in the wilderness; the cellular phone could not help her. She closed the phone and looked back at Shane.

He had removed his jacket. He opened the trunk, took something out, and ran toward the balloon.

Megan saw that he carried a large red plastic container. It said
GASOLINE
on the side.

Shane began pouring gasoline on the basket.

Horrified, Megan backed away. Shane's plan seemed chillingly clear. He wanted it to seem as if the balloon had crashed. Before he drove away, he intended to set the balloon on fire!

They were miles from any fire station. They were miles from any people. The fire would probably never be spotted. By the time the balloon was found, if it was ever found, there would be nothing left but ashes.

Shane circled the basket, dribbling gasoline on it. Then he walked along the edge of the balloon, pouring gasoline on the blue-and-green fabric.

As she watched him, Megan moved slowly toward the car. She wanted to get beyond the lights, so he couldn't see her.

Intent on what he was doing, Shane didn't pay any attention to Megan. He stopped twice to wipe the sweat from his face with a bandana, then continued to pour gasoline on the balloon.

Megan made it to the car. She looked in the window and saw Shane's jacket on the seat. She wondered what was in the pocket that he had kept touching. Whatever it was, it must be important to him. Perhaps she should take it, in case she needed to bargain with him.

She pushed the button on the handle of the car door, relieved that it was not locked. She eased the door open.

Keeping her eyes on Shane, she put the telephone on the seat while she reached for the jacket, unzipped the pocket, and removed a thick envelope.

Shane shook the container, as if it were empty, and turned back toward the car.

Instantly Megan pushed the door shut and crouched down beside the car. She put the envelope in the pocket of her windbreaker.

Megan feared he would see her; she dropped to her stomach and slithered under the vehicle. Her heart thumped wildly. What if he drove off now, with her under the car? She flattened herself on the ground.

She heard the trunk slam shut. She saw his shoes move along the side of the car toward the driver's door. He paused, as if looking in the window, and then walked back toward the balloon.

His hands were empty now; he had put the gasoline container in the trunk.

Megan slid out from under the car and peeked over the top. She saw him disconnect one of the cords that ran from the balloon to the basket. He held it out, as if judging its length.

Holding the end of the cord, he looked at the basket. Then he turned his head, looking all around.

“Hey!” he said. “Where are you?” He seemed to realize for the first time that Megan was not beside the balloon where he had last seen her.

He gripped the cord in his fist as he looked for her.

Understanding hit Megan as if she'd been punched in the stomach. He plans to use that cord to tie me to the basket, she thought. Then he'll set the basket on fire!

Megan dropped to her hands and knees, and crawled away from the car, hoping that the vehicle would shield her from his sight.

The thick underbrush scratched her face; her palms came down on pebbles and thorny branches.

There must be a road, Megan thought. He drove the car here. It was a plain sedan, not an all-terrain vehicle. If I can hide from him until he leaves, I can follow the road and get help.

“Hey, kid!” he called. “It's time to go back. Come and get in the basket.”

Did he think she was completely stupid? Megan kept crawling, ignoring the brambles that slashed at her cheeks.

She reached a tree, and then another; she was moving beyond the clearing. Good. Megan crawled behind a big tree and then stood up. Looking back around the tree, she saw Shane run to the car.

He knows I'm hiding from him, Megan thought. She held her breath, wondering if he would bother to search for her or if he would get in the car and drive off.

He looked inside the car, then got down on one knee and looked underneath it. Megan was glad she had crawled away from the car.

He circled the car slowly, as if unable to believe that she was not there in plain sight.

He returned to the balloon and ran around it. He kicked the basket in frustration.

“You come here!” he shouted. “If you don't, I'll leave you to starve to death in the forest. You'll get eaten by a grizzly bear.”

Megan stayed still.

The man's voice rose to a shriek, as if his anger was completely out of control. “So you like cats?” he yelled. He shook both fists in the air. “Wait until a mountain lion sinks his jaws into you. Then see how much you like cats!”

Megan shuddered.

He took something out of his pants pocket and flicked one hand against the other. Megan realized he was striking a match.

He flung the lighted match onto the balloon fabric. A path of fire raced along the edge of the balloon, following the trail of gasoline.

Shane lit another match and threw it in the wicker basket.

Poof! Flames erupted, filling the center of the basket.

Shane did not wait to watch the balloon burn. He ran to the car and got in.

Boom! The propane tank in the basket exploded. Pieces of the metal frame that had held the gas jets flew into the forest. Flaming wicker shot into the air like rockets.

Megan ducked, holding her hands over her head.

Shane started the engine.

I need to be a better witness than I was last time, Megan thought. She wasn't worried about describing the man; she knew exactly what he looked like. But if she got out of this alive, the police would ask her about the car as well.

While Shane made a U-turn, Megan looked at the license plate. There was just enough firelight for her to see it: KKB 513. She repeated it to herself: KKB 513.

With no way to write it down, she feared she would forget it, so she made up words to go with the letters.
Kittens. Kylie. Balloon.

There were five cats. Thirteen was considered an unlucky number, and this was definitely Megan's unlucky day.
Kittens, Kylie, balloon
; five cats and unlucky thirteen.

Shane drove away from the fire.

From her place behind the tree, Megan watched the car
bump along. The road was little more than a path, but she could tell it led down the hill. She watched until the red taillights disappeared into the trees.

By then the entire balloon was on fire. Yellow and red flames leaped skyward, illuminating the meadow where the balloon had dropped. Shane had landed close to the eastern edge of the grassy area; if the balloon had traveled much farther, they would have come down in the woods.

Some tall grass next to the blazing basket started to burn. The fire spread away from the basket, as more grass and underbrush ignited.

This could start a forest fire, Megan thought. This whole hill could go up in flames!

She ran to the burning grass and stamped on it, smothering the flames with her shoes.

A patch of weeds near the top end of the balloon caught fire. Megan tried to stamp it out, too, but those flames were higher. They leaped around her ankles, scorching the cuffs of her jeans.

Megan jumped aside. She took off her windbreaker and raised it over her head to beat at the fire.

She remembered the envelope. Whatever was in it, Shane had acted as if it were important. She took the envelope out of her windbreaker and wedged it into the back pocket of her jeans before she flung the windbreaker down on the fire.

Whack! Whack! She hit the flames over and over until only smoke remained.

Sparks rained down. A clump of weeds flared up. Megan circled the balloon, stamping out hot spots that threatened to spread.

Maybe someone will see the fire, she thought. Maybe the Forest Service has a lookout tower that has a view of this area. Perhaps an airplane will fly over and the fire will be visible from the air. By now, people at the balloon festival would have notified the police; maybe a police helicopter was already searching for her.

The fire died down within minutes. The balloon was completely gone; only a charred, smoking section of the meadow remained where the beautiful blue-and-green fabric had landed. The basket continued to smolder.

Megan wondered if she should keep the fire going. She could break branches from the trees and feed the flames. She could stay near the fire so that if a helicopter did fly over, the pilot would be sure to see her.

But what if no air search was in progress, or they didn't fly over this area?

I should hike down the path that Shane drove, she decided. It must connect with a road at the bottom of the hill. If there are grizzly bears and mountain lions in these woods, the sooner I get out of here, the better.

The path down the hill was hard to follow in the dark. Megan tried to stay in one of the two lines where Shane's tires had flattened the grass.

Smoke from the burned balloon stung her nostrils. Acrid with gasoline, it hung in the air. She hoped any grizzly
bears or mountain lions would smell it, too, and stay away from this part of the forest.

As she walked she listened for sounds in the woods around her. She heard only leaves rustling and a far-off hoot owl.

A half-moon rose high enough to send a faint light through the woods. Megan walked faster.

Light beamed through the distant trees; then Megan heard a motor. Someone was coming! Headlights flashed on the path below her.

They've found me, Megan thought, but her gladness lasted only a second. It seemed too soon. Even if the fire had been spotted, a rescue car could not have discovered this little-used path so quickly.

She stopped. What if it was Shane, coming back?

Megan left the path and pushed through the underbrush. She passed a clump of trees and kept going.

She came to a large fir tree and hid behind it.

The car chugged closer, climbing the path. If it was a different car, she would rush out and call to the driver. If it was Shane, she would remain behind the fir tree and hope he couldn't see her.

The headlights came around a bend a short distance from where Megan had left the path. She pressed herself against the rough bark. The tree smelled like Christmas-time; Megan blinked back tears as she thought of Mom and Kylie.

When the car passed her, she looked out and recognized Shane's white Ford.

She stayed behind the tree after the car passed. The lights faded from her sight, but in only a few minutes she heard Shane shout, “It's mine! What have you done with it?”

She realized he had come back to get the envelope. Curious, Megan removed the envelope from her pocket and tore it open. She tipped the contents toward the moonlight.

“Oh!” she whispered. No wonder he was so upset; the envelope that she had taken was full of money.
Lots
of money!

As Megan put the envelope back in her pocket, she wondered who the money belonged to. Probably not Shane, she thought. If it was rightfully his, he would not have to stage a fake balloon accident and sneak away in the night.

She heard him yell, “You won't get away with this. I'll find you! I'll track you down! And when I do . . .” His voice trailed away, as if he could not think of any punishment terrible enough.

Soon the headlights appeared again, going back down the hill. Megan crouched in the dirt behind the big tree. The car moved slowly; she knew he was searching for her as he drove.

He had the window down now. Even though he did not see her, he continued to yell at her as he drove. “I'll get you! I'll get you!” He sounded wild and out of control, as if his rage had overcome his brain.

The headlights zigzagged on the path. Megan wasn't sure if he drove that way on purpose, trying to watch for her on both sides, or if he was so distraught that he couldn't control the car.

Would he be able to tell that the underbrush was bent down where she had left the path? Would he stop and follow the broken brush to where she was hiding?

If he did, should she hide the envelope and pretend she had never seen it? Or should she give it to him as a way to squelch his anger?

Megan decided to hide the money. Giving it back to him would be proof that she had taken it in the first place; that might make him even angrier.

She dug into the dirt with her fingers, making a flat trench about six inches wide. She laid the envelope in the shallow hole, then shoved the loose dirt on top of it. Unless a person knew exactly where to look, the envelope would never be noticed.