Page 132 of Don't Let Me Go
Jackson is going to die. I know that with every molecule of my being. And I can watch it happen and break the cycle and never see him again in this life or any other life,or...
“Where are you going?” Audrey barks, grabbing my arm as I start to slip through the crowd toward the burning pyramid.
“It’s okay,” I say, flashing her and Tala as brave a smile as I can muster. I want them to remember me smiling. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Before she can say anything, I pull free and race toward Galaxy Peak.
“Hey, what are you doing?” a park employee shouts as I barrel past him. “Come back here!”
Above me I hear the tearing of metal and the shattering of glass as more of the silver structure collapses. I force myself to block it out, just like I block out the sight of the wounded park guests trickling out of the pyramid and the sound of Audrey’s and Tala’s cries begging me to come back.
I race to the entrance of the roller coaster and dart inside. There I find myself in a large, cavernous room cheaply decorated to look like a cross between NASA’s Mission Control and the Death Star. It’s an odd, disjointed mash-up of two worlds made all the more ominous by the fact that the room is deserted and almost completely dark. Only a few red emergency lights flicker overhead.
With the fire alarm blaring over the speakers and the pungent smell of smoke wafting through the air, I feel like I’ve stepped into some crazy sci-fi disaster movie. I should be terrified. But as I make my way down the long winding corridor that leads to the roller-coaster tracks, I’m too full of purpose to be frightened.
All that matters is finding Jackson and my friends.
I reach the boarding zone of the ride, where several empty roller-coaster carts shaped like rocket ships sit on a track that leads into a pitch-black tunnel. I take out my phone, turn on the flashlight, and aim the beam into the winding darkness. Then I carefully step onto the tracks and set off into the heart of the pyramid.
The air grows staler and smokier the deeper I move into the tunnels. Every twenty feet or so, I pass overturned rocket ships that have been abandoned in the chaos. I assume everyone who was in them got out safely because I don’t see any bodies. That’s a good sign.
Then again, I’m still on the lowest level of the ride. There are probably eight floors of track between where I am and what’s now the top of the pyramid. Jackson, Duy, and Caleb could be on any of those floors. And if they were on one of the levels that’s already collapsed...
No.
I push the thought out of my head. I have to believe they’re alive.
I climb up a steep incline of track, passing cheap papier-mâché models of Jupiter and Saturn. The passage levels off as I reach the next floor, where I have to climb over two rocket ships that must have collided because they’re both overturned and blocking the track. There’s just enough room for me to squeeze over their bulky frames, and when I do, I spy a flicker of light coming from around the curve of the tunnel up ahead.
“Hello?” I call out.
“Hello!” a familiar voice shouts back.
“Duy!”
“Riley?”
Hope courses through my veins. I scramble down the tracks and around the curve, and the sight that greets me almost makes me weep for joy.
In the light of their smartphones, a very-much-not-dead Duy is leaning over a very-much-not-dead Jackson attempting to lift an overturned rocket ship off his legs.
“You’re alive!” I shout as a sob of relief bursts from my throat. I’m so overcome, I can hardly believe my eyes. Neither can Jackson. He looks at me like I’m a ghost.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I came to find you.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Clearly. Are you all right?”
“Of course he’s not all right,” Duy snaps. “This stupid spaceship weighs a ton. So maybe save the conversation for later and help me get this off him.”
They don’t have to tell me twice. I drop to my knees, and together we put our backs into trying to shift the overturned rocket. But after a few minutes of grunting, straining, and pushing with every ounce of our strength, Duy and I have nothing to show for our efforts except cramped muscles and a heavy coat of sweat.
“It’s no use,” Jackson says, letting out a defeated sigh. “I told you, it’s too heavy. You’re not gonna be able to lift it.”
“We just need more help. Where’s Caleb?” I suddenly remember to ask.
