Forest Fire (8 page)
“Talib?” shouted Zoe. “Talib filled the cylinders?”
Ben quickly knelt down by one of them. A tiny blob of chewing gum had been squeezed in under the needle.
“Look inside the glass!” he shouted. “He's used his gum to wedge the gauge so it shows full.”
Mat twisted the third valve open, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. “This one's the same. They've been tampered with! Why would Talib do this?”
The children stared at him, white-faced. Over their heads the flame spluttered â and died. Horrified, Ben and Zoe felt the wind throbbing in their ears as the balloon began to drop through the air, gaining speed. The sides of the nylon envelope, no longer filled with heat, flapped loudly in the downward rush and the dense green of the forest below raced up to meet them.
“Get down as low as you can!” shouted Mat above the din. “Brace yourselves for the impact. With luck we'll hit the canopy and our fall will be broken.”
Ben and Zoe could see how close they were to the open land of the oil palm plantation. If they crash-landed there, they didn't stand a chance.
Zoe gave a shriek as she felt the basket smash down on top of the trees, throwing her against Ben. All around was the deafening crack of breaking branches. The basket tumbled down through the canopy, almost flinging Ben over the side. Zoe grasped his arm and hauled him back in. They clung together, huddled in one corner of the basket.
Suddenly the basket gave a huge jolt and came to rest at a crooked angle, swinging from side to side, the balloon envelope tangled in the branches above.
“We've stopped falling!” gasped Zoe, hauling herself up by one of the ropes.
Ben peered out. “The balloon's caught on a tree. We're safe â for the moment.”
“But look at Mat!” Zoe edged her way slowly over to where their pilot lay in a crumpled heap.
“Is he alive?” Ben clambered round to join her, making the basket rock dangerously.
Zoe felt his pulse. “He's unconscious,” she said, hearing the worry in her own voice. “He must have been knocked out.”
Ben pulled out his BUG. “I'm going to call Uncle Stephen,” he said. “He can get help â”
He gave a cry as some of the balloon fabric ripped and the basket fell to the branch below.
“There's no time for that,” said Zoe urgently. “We've got to get down to the ground now.”
“We can use our EELs,” said Ben. “I'll take Mat.”
Zoe pressed the button on her EEL belt. As she leapt out of the basket, she felt the cord fasten to the branches above.
Ben gripped Mat tightly round the waist and prepared to jump. He knew he had to get them clear of the basket, which was starting to rock dangerously. They couldn't risk getting trapped as it fell and dragged down to the ground. Then the EEL wouldn't be able to work. But Mat was like a dead weight in his arms. Ben couldn't move him at all.
There was a crack of snapping wood and the basket broke loose from the tree. Ben felt himself being thrown into mid-air. He clung to Mat for all he was worth as they plummeted. Heart in his mouth, he hoped they weren't too heavy for the EEL. Then, to his relief, he felt the jerk of the cord.
As soon as Mat was safely down on the ground, Zoe felt his pulse. “It's very fast,” she said, worried. “And he looks so pale.”
“We need to get him medical help as soon as possible,” said Ben. “I'll contact Uncle Stephen now.”
The chugging sound of a quad bike burst through the trees.
“Someone must have seen the balloon come down!” he exclaimed. “Help's arrived!”
“And they've got transport,” said Zoe excitedly. “They can take Mat to hospital! We're over here!” She jumped to her feet and waved her arms.
But the next instant their hope turned to dread as the quad came into view.
Their rescuer was no rescuer at all. It was Pieter Ostrander.
He cut the engine, dismounted and came over to them. Out of the corner of her eye Zoe saw Ben's fingers reaching for his BUG.
Surely Ben's not going to try and
alert Uncle Stephen,
she thought.
It's too
risky.
But just in case, she ran forward to Mr Ostrander to block his view.
“Thank goodness you're here,” she cried. “There's been an accident and Mat's hurt.”
“I saw the balloon come down,” said Mr Ostrander in a concerned tone that now rang falsely in the children's ears. “I came as quickly as I could. What a dreadful accident.”
He strode over to Mat. Mat's eyes flickered open.
“No accident,” he groaned. “Talib did this â¦your man⦔
“Oh dear,” said Pieter Ostrander. His voice was suddenly hard as he gazed down at Mat. “If you hadn't worked that out I might have rescued you and carried on playing the supportive friend. But now I can't let you live to tell your tale. It won't fit in with my plans at all.”
A look of utter disbelief spread over Mat's face. Ben and Zoe stood in stunned silence. They hadn't guessed the lengths to which Mr Ostrander would go to get his hands on the reservation.
At that moment, an ear-splitting chirruping noise filled the air. Zoe saw Ben's BUG drop to the floor and the slight movement of his foot as he kicked it under a bush. They couldn't call Uncle Stephen, so Ben was doing the only thing he could think of. But how could Kawan help them?
Mr Ostrander started at the loud call. He pulled a gun from his pocket.
“What's that noise?” he demanded.
“Must be a bird,” said Ben, trying to keep his breathing calm. “Scared by the quad bike.”
Mr Ostrander lowered his gun. “You should thank me really,” he said with a chilling smile. “You're going to be famous. It will be in all the papers tomorrow that Mat and two young tourists were killed in a tragic ballooning accident.”
“But we haven't been,” said Zoe defiantly.
“Everyone will think so, Zoe. And there'll be no evidence because a forest fire is going to sweep through the reservation.”
Keeping the gun trained on them, he pulled some lengths of rope out from the pocket of his jacket. He strode over to Mat, who stared at him in disbelief. “The rope will burn away. There'll be no evidence of what I've done.”
“I thought you were a friend, Pieter,” Mat managed to whisper.
Ostrander laughed coldly. He laid the gun beside him and yanked Mat's hands behind his back.
Zoe began to edge away.
Pieter Ostrander raised an eyebrow. “Stay still, Zoe. I would
prefer
not to shoot you as bullets will survive the fire. But I will if I have to. And I won't miss. I'm a very good shot.”
“But if you start a fire, it might burn your oil palms,” called Zoe desperately.
“I have thought of that, Zoe,” said Mr Ostrander. “The wind's not in that direction. Talib and I checked that most carefully.” He looked at his watch. “In fact he'll be starting the fire now.”
There was a sudden shrill shriek above his head. Pieter Ostrander looked up in horror to see a furious blur of orange fur hurling itself at him.
“It's Kawan!” yelled Zoe.
The next second the orang-utan had sent Mr Ostrander sprawling. The gun spun out of his grasp.
Lips curling in a snarl, the angry animal turned and picked it up.
“Let it go, Kawan,” came Mat's gentle voice. “Throw it away.”
With a sharp cry Kawan raised the gun high over his head. Then he smashed it against a tree trunk, again and again. At last he slung the useless weapon away into the undergrowth.
Next, Kawan advanced on his enemy.
Terrified, Pieter Ostrander shuffled back on his elbows and scrambled to his feet. He stumbled to his quad bike and roared away.
Kawan watched him go. Then he threw back his head and gave a deep, hollow call.
Creatures all around took up the cry and for a few seconds the canopy was alive with harsh howls and squawks. Then the orang-utan turned back to stare at the children.
“Hope he isn't going to think
we're
his enemies too,” said Zoe, not daring to move. “After all, we were there when he was frightened off last night.”
But Kawan showed no sign of fear now.
He squatted next to Mat, stroking his head. Mat roused himself and focused on his friend.
“Good boy,” he said in a faint whisper.
“Brave boy.”
“We need to get out of here,” said Zoe, “before Talib starts the fire.” She went up to Mat and untied the ropes.
Out of sight of Mat, Ben reached for his BUG. Uncle Stephen needed to know the danger they were in. He was just pressing the Wild hot key when he heard a frightened shout.
“Ben!” cried Zoe. “I can smell smoke. The fire's coming.”
“Hello!” came Uncle Stephen's voice.
“Ostrander's trying to sabotage the reservation!” Ben yelled into the BUG.
“He's burning the forest â and we're in it!”
“I've worked out your position using your signal,” came back Uncle Stephen's voice immediately. “The fire's east of you. Head away from it â as fast as you can!”