boss were clear. You’re my fall-back choice. Though, if you’d just accepted in the first place, you’d already have four days of experience.”
“I’ll just hold you up.” She was desperate. What could she say to convince him?
He stopped the car next to a small truck and two other cars. Turning to face her, he reached out and caught her chin, turning her face to his.
“Sabotage this race and you’ll regret it.”
She pulled away and glared at him. “I was insulted the first time you suggested such a thing. I don’t need to sabotage anything. But I don’t have to help. That’ll be enough detriment to let my boss win.”
“I doubt it. The balloon only needs one pilot. I’m it. Let’s go.”
She sat in the car when he got out, wondering if she could open her door and run down the road to escape. No, almost certainly he’d just follow and pull her back again. As she stared at the balloon, her heart pumped like a piston.
He opened her door and unfastened her seat belt. She slapped his hands away. “I’m not some child,” she said, getting out and judging the chances of her getting away in the darkness, which was quickly fading into daylight. Not good.
He took her arm firmly in one hand and walked toward the group of people working around the balloon. Did he suspect her thoughts?
Two men near the balloon saw them and called a greeting.
The rest turned and also called out.
“I wasn’t sure you’d make it back in time,” one man said.
“Her case is in the back of the car. Get it. Amalia, this is Manuel. That’s Julio and Maria and Paolo. Paolo is your boss’s man. Amalia will take Teresa’s place. Maria, do you have a jacket she can wear?”
She knew he suspected her frantic plan to escape when he didn’t release her. In only a moment Maria returned with a black jacket slashed by the red band. Rafael handed it to Amalia, releasing her at last.
“Put it on, it’ll be cooler the higher we go. You can take it off later when it grows warm.”
Stefano Vicente came into the light. “Want to call it off?” he asked Rafael, grinning maliciously.
“No need, I have my passenger,” Rafael said, nodding to Amalia.
Stefano turned and saw her. “Oh, you’re kidding. Amalia?” He laughed.
The tone made her look at him. “What does that mean?” she asked angrily.
“Nothing, Amalia. Only that it’s in the bag now.” He lifted his hand in a half wave and turned to walk back to his own balloon. “Liftoff in fifteen minutes,” he called back.
Maria walked to the gondola, carrying a couple of soda cans and a small bag. Leaning over the side, she handed them in to Manuel, who was operating the burners. He stowed them in small pouches affixed to the side of the basket.
“You have two blankets in the large bag, water, snacks, and Julio double-checked the fuel supply, so you’re good to go.” She frowned at Amalia. “You don’t look ready. Last chance for a toilet break for the next few hours. Come on, I’ll show you the loo.”
Amalia protested, but there was no help for it. Whether she liked it or not, and she did so not, it looked as if she was going up in a hot air balloon.
Fourteen minutes later Amalia placed her foot in the small step built into the side of the gondola and scrambled over into the basket feeling as if she would be physically sick. If she’d had anything to eat, she knew it would have come right back up.
The basket sat on solid ground, so it didn’t move, but the loud noise of the burners and the ringing shouts of the ground crew fed her nervousness. A second later Rafael jumped in, exchanging places with Manuel. When Manuel climbed out of the gondola, they were ready to go.
“Keep up,” he shouted as he fed the fire, and the flames leaped high into the large balloon overhead.
Amalia cringed and looked for a corner to sit in. The basket was not exactly spacious, and valuable space was taken up with large propane tanks, all connected to interconnecting hoses that fed the burners.
She backed to an area against the side next to one of the tanks and sat down. Keeping her knees bent, she stayed out of Rafael’s way.
“There’re blankets in that side pouch if you want to sit on them,” he said, pointing to a flap covering a canvas basket affixed to the side. She pulled both out. Neither was large, but at least it beat sitting directly on the wicker. Wedging her back against the corner made by the basket and tank, she closed her eyes. When the basket lurched, she gripped the edge of the blankets and began praying. She knew her last moments on earth were about to end.
Another lurch, the burners roaring, and suddenly the sounds of voices faded. She could only hear the burners. Two minutes later there was silence.
Slowly she opened her eyes. Rafael stared down at her.
“You weren’t kidding about being afraid of heights, were you?” he asked. He had one hand on the control knob of the burners, but they were not shooting flame up into the balloon. There was only silence. The basket was slowly swaying, almost like floating in a pool. Or a cloud. She unclenched her hands, flexing her stiff fingers. It was cool up here, but not unpleasantly so. The sky around her was growing lighter.
“We’re floating?” she asked.
“Yes. If you’re serious about getting sick, stay where you are. I don’t want that.” Then he opened the burners and a roar sounded as loud as a motorcycle as the flames leaped. Five seconds later he shut off the burners again.
Silence.
For a long moment Amalia sat where she was. She stretched her legs out in front of her. Rafael was less than six inches away. Glancing around she noted how cramped the basket seemed. Due, no doubt, to the large propane tanks. Several people could ride as long as they stood, as there was space at each side of the basket. Storage pouches lined the walls. The tubes from the tanks were tucked under the covering at the top edge of the basket. Looking up, she saw the burners above Rafael’s head, still a good distance from the huge balloon that filled her sight.
Curiosity flickered. “How high up are we?” she asked.
He looked over the edge of the basket and her heart skipped a beat. What if he fell out? She’d be alone in the sky. She caught her breath.
“Don’t do that!” she said sharply.
“Do what?” he asked.
“Lean over the edge like that. What if you fall out?”
He laughed, looking around and then up at the balloon. “I’m not going to fall out. I’d have to climb up on the side to do so. But you’d feel better if you know how to operate the balloon. Come and I’ll show you.”
“I’m not moving,” she vowed. He was right, it was unlikely anyone would fall out. The high sides were almost chest high for her. Still, freak accidents could happen.
“You’re
