“Can’t do it, Pendragon,” she shouted back. “There’s no place to put down.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“I’m sorry. I would if I could,” was her answer. “I won’t be able to land until we get to the air station.”
That would be too late. I needed to get to Spader now, before he had the chance to mess with Winn Farrow’s plans. Stopping him was going to be half the battle. This could very well be the critical moment of the mission. I didn’t want to blow it. There had to be a way.
A few seconds later, it came to me. I once again remembered an adventure I had with Uncle Press. Like I wrote before, I now understood that he was preparing me for my life as a Traveler. I learned a lot of skills through him, and I was about to put another one to use. The idea scared me to death, but I knew I could do it. I had to.
“Fly ahead of the bus,” I yelled to Jinx.
Jinx didn’t question. She gunned the throttle and shot forward. I glanced over at the plane’s altimeter to see we were flying at three thousand feet. I then asked her, “Are these parachutes okay?”
She gave me a sideways look and said, “Of course. I packed ‘em myself. Don’t worry, you won’t have to use it.”
That’s where she was wrong. ”Thanks, Jinx. Make sure Gunny gets to the airfield,” I said.
Jinx gave me a strange look. She had no idea what I was talking about. I turned back to Gunny and shouted, “I’ll see you at the airfield.”
Gunny gave me a strange look. He didn’t know what I was talking about either. How could he? There was no way either of them would think in a million years that I was about to do what I was about to do. I glanced at the altimeter and saw we were still at three thousand feet. That was plenty high enough to make a safe jump. At least that’s what the book said. Before I had the chance to convince myself I was being an idiot, I clicked out of my seat buckle and turned to Jinx.
“Thanks for the ride, Jinx,” I said.
“What are you doing?” she shouted back, stunned.
I showed her. With one quick move I launched myself up and out of the cockpit. A second later I was freefalling through the clouds, really hoping that Jinx was as good at packing parachutes as she was at flying airplanes.
FIRST EARTH
Before today I’d jumped out of a plane exactly three times. Each time I had other, experienced divers with me and always used a static line. That was a line on my ripcord that stayed attached to the plane. After falling for only a few seconds, the static line automatically pulled the ripcord and the parachute came out. I think they do that with new divers to make sure they don’t freak and forget to pull the cord. Yeah, right, like there’s any chance ofthathappening.
Now, jumping out of Jinx’s plane, I was totally on my own. I thought back to all the instruction I’d had. I was taught proper body position and how to sight objects on the ground and all those things that had to do with good form. But as I plummeted away from that plane, all thoughts about good form went right out of my head. All I wanted to do was get down alive.
A second after I left the cockpit, I yanked on that ripcord as if my life depended on it, because, well, it did. I was three thousand feet in the air and dropping fast. This was dangerously low, but if the chute opened the way it was supposed to I’d be fine. I’m happy to report that no sooner did I pull that cord than I felt the familiar tug of the chute and shroud lines being quickly pulled out. Lucky for me, Jinx knew how to pack a parachute. Phew.
Two seconds later I was floating lazily under a beautiful, round white canopy. I looked up to see that the chute was fully open and all the lines were clear. Believe it or not, that’s when I got scared. When I decided to jump from the plane, I bolted so fast I didn’t give myself time to think about what an idiotic move it was. Now I found myself floating through a thunderstorm. Judging from the bright shots of lightning that were tearing through the sky around me, I’d be lucky to get down to the ground without being flash fried. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it though. I had to take deep breaths and force myself to calm down.
I looked up at the chute again and saw Jinx’s plane flying on toward the airfield. I also caught another glimpse of theHindenburg. A cloud parted and the giant, silver nose poked its way out. I knew from the history lesson we got on Third Earth that the zeppelin was circling the airfield, waiting for the weather to clear so it could land. Man, that thing was huge! Jinx’s plane looked like an ant next to a football. It was awesome. The scary thing was, I was on a mission to make sure it would crash and burn. Worse, if I were successful, thirty-six people would die. This was about as horrible a situation as I could imagine. The only way I could keep going was to bring back the images of the horror that would follow if theHindenburgdidn’t crash. I had to look away from the zeppelin.
The ground was coming up fast. The key was to straighten up and relax. If all went well, landing was pretty much the same as jumping off a three-foot ladder. If alldidn’tgo well, I’d break both my legs and the show would be over. I grabbed the shroud lines, kept my head down, straightened my body perpendicular to the ground, and bent my knees. Soft knees…soft knees…that was my mantra. Soft knees absorbed the shock. Stiff knees didn’t. I hit the ground with both feet and rolled. It wasn’t the most graceful landing, but nothing broke. That’s a win in my book.
But I wasn’t out of danger yet. The parachute then became my enemy. If a gust of wind filled it while I was still attached, it would easily drag me along on an uncontrollable bumpfest. But instinct took over and I quickly released the buckles that held me in the harness. At that exact moment, the wind did kick up. The parachute snapped open as it filled with air and the harness was ripped off my body. If I had waited a second more, I would have been yanked along, out of control. Now the parachute simply flew away from me. I didn’t bother chasing after it. I stood and watched it fly away like a giant jellyfish with its tendrils dragging behind. I would owe the U.S. Coast Guard a new parachute.
What a rush! I had leaped out of a plane at three thousand feet and lived to tell the tale. But the truth was, it didn’t matter. This wasn’t about the jump. This was about getting to Spader. I had to force myself to get my head back together and plan my next move.
I was standing on a lonely road in the middle of nowhere. There was scrubby grass on either side of the road, broken up by a few lonely trees. It was probably farmland for grazing cows. Now what?
I then heard a sound. I didn’t know what it was at first, because for the past few hours I had been hearing nothing but the roar of Jinx’s engine and the shrill whistle of wind. This new sound was loud, harsh, and getting louder. Whatever it was, it was coming closer. I looked one way up the road and saw nothing. I turned around and saw it.
It was a silver bus, blowing its horn, headed my way. Yes! Jinx had put me exactly where I needed to be. Suddenly my insane jump from the airplane didn’t seem so crazy. I had gotten ahead of Spader and we’d soon be back together.
I started waving my arms like crazy. Either this bus was going to stop, or splat me like a bug on a windshield. The sound of gushing air told me that the bus driver was putting on the brakes. I guess he didn’t want to scrape me off his windshield. So far so good. The bus rolled to a stop in front of me and I ran to the door as it opened.
“Howdy, Lindbergh,” the driver said. “Lose your aeroplane?”
Lindbergh? Aeroplane? Oh, right. I was still wearing the leather flight cap and goggles. What a doofus. I quickly pulled them off and asked, “Okay if I ride to the next stop?”
“Sure enough, Wilbur,” he said. “Welcome aboard.”
I climbed onto the bus as the driver closed the door behind me. He hit the gas and we were under way. The bus was packed with people. My guess was that they were all coming down to see theHindenburgarrive. There was an excited vibe in the bus, like they were on an adventure. They were ready for the thrill of seeing the big airship.
I walked down the aisle, looking into every seat, expecting to find Spader. But when I reached the back of the bus, I hadn’t seen him. I turned back toward the front, double-checking each and every passenger. Could I have missed him? No way. But I got back to the front and still no Spader. It was time to get nervous again.
“Excuse me,” I said to the driver. “Did this bus come from New York City?”
