The Release

“I’ll ask him that. When I find him. He’s got to be out there Ethan…I believe that. I think he wants us to find him.”

“And you really want to do this?” Ethan asked.

Lucy exhaled out her nose. “This is our family. Our mom. And I can do this. Please trust me.”

“I trust you. But it’s scary…to let you go. What if you—” he couldn’t finish his thought.

Teddy swooped into the room and made a leap to the couch. He jumped and jumped until Darla came in and swung him off the leather and planted his feet on the ground.

“Legos?” she suggested and he rushed away, shouting about building an all-blue spaceship. Grant came in and sat by Lucy and he gave her a reassuring smile.

Pushing her back against the bookshelf, Darla crossed her arms. “We heard before the communication ended that the bridge is down between here and Washington. Car backup along all major highways will be impossible to navigate. You could walk out…but Grant is a living testament that you might still run into Raiders…who knows what type of people are lurking at the major entrances and exits to the city.”

“Sounds lovely,” Grant said. “What if we head north?”

“Fine. But still I-84 is a traffic jam up the Gorge. You’re walking out of here and that alone carries all sorts of risks,” Darla explained as she rubbed her temples. “Too bad you can’t just fly out over the wreckage. Land yourself beyond the miles of corpses and cars.”

“What if we could?” Grant asked, alert and looking between everyone, his eyes flashing with excitement.

“Fly?” Darla laughed. “Oh yeah?”

“Well, more like float,” Grant replied and he smiled.

From Up Above Tours was family owned and operated for thirty years. Grant’s uncle was a commercial pilot frustrated by an aggravating schedule that kept him away from his wife and young children and Grant’s aunt was a strong woman with an entrepreneurial spirit and unstoppable business acumen. For years they ran sunrise hot air balloon tours over the Willamette Valley, storing their massive equipment during the off-season in Grant’s family’s storage barn on their large lot with acreage. Abandoned and ready for flight, just miles from Lucy’s home, were a collection of hot air balloons. Grant’s aunt and uncle kept the balloons in trailers next to the stables, where Grant’s horses grazed and slept.

“Horses? You have horses?” Lucy asked and she raised her eyebrows with a knowing look.

“Don’t say it…just don’t. I think the point’s been made.” Then he frowned as he remembered. “Had horses, though. We lost two the night before everything. Not all of them. But if it was just a precursor to everything else then I doubt I have any horses anymore.”

“Wait, wait,” Ethan turned to Grant. “So, you can fly these things?”

“Yes,” Grant replied quickly. Then he shifted his eyes to Lucy and lowered his eyes. “I mean…I’ve helped fly them. I work every summer with the company. Setting up the balloons, assisting with flights. I can do it. I know how. I’ve done it a hundred times over the years.”

“But you’ve never actually flown one solo?” Ethan wheeled closer and looked at Grant incredulously.

“I can do it,” Grant said, his eyes lighting up, moving between each of them – eager to convince. “I’ll need some extra hands, but I can fly us out over the wreckage. Right? That’s all we need?”

“How far do they go?” Lucy asked, imagining a stress-free ride through the skies all the way to Nebraska.

“Depends on how much fuel we take, which balloon, which gondola. I think I can get us like fifty miles. But maybe more, I can push it to more.”

“That’s all?” Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not even a start to the trip.”

“Well, I don’t want to walk fifty miles instead if those are our options,” Grant replied.

“Where will you go?” Ethan asked.

“Well,” Grant paused, “we don’t have a choice. We go where the wind takes us. But from here? I’m hoping to catch the wind that travels south. Head toward Central Oregon…plenty of open landing space.”

“This is brilliant, Grant,” Ethan reached forward for a high-five, which Grant reciprocated. He turned to his sister with appraising eyes. She looked to Ethan, Grant, and then Darla who picked at the bed of her fingernails with the tip of a paperclip.

“I can’t even believe we’re talking about this as an actual thing,” Darla muttered. She flicked the dirt and grime to the floor and bit off the top part of her fingernail on her right pointer finger.

“A freaking hot air balloon,” Lucy added and Darla smirked—they shared a moment bonding over their skepticism.

“This can work, Lucy,” Grant said, turning to her. “I am promising you.” He lowered his voice. “I will get us to your family.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’re following a cryptic letter. Nothing more.” Ethan replied. “For now, we’re following the hint of my family. That is what we’re chasing. A hope. In a hot air balloon.”

“A hint, a hope, a hot air balloon,” Lucy mused out loud. She thought of Mrs. Johnston’s alliteration poster and smiled to herself. Yes, fools, all of them, thinking that in the end knowledge of literary terms could ever be useful. “You’ll need this for a successful future,” some of the more idiotic educators pontificated. What future? Lucy thought. Apparently for her future she needed to know how to navigate a hot air balloon. And she shook her head, exhaled long and low, and then turned to the group. “When do we leave?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Eight days after The Release

The day before the big trip, they pla

Darla tucked him in and then asked them not to be too hard on him. “He wishes he could be the one to do this,” she said. “He feels like he’s failing you.”

For the first time since they concocted the hot air balloon idea, Lucy felt guilty for her quick willingness to leave him behind. “If you think I should stay, please tell me,” Lucy begged Darla.

“No, you should go,” Darla replied. “Spencer’s network was intricate and vast. I would never have saved his pathetic life and offered him our most precious resource if I didn’t believe he would help us save Ethan.”

Lucy had to trust that she was right.

When sleep finally found her that evening, she crashed. There were no dreams. No midnight awakenings. And now, in this early morning, her body refused to budge and her mind kept shoving her back into the darkness. She could feel Grant’s hand push on her shoulder, his voice call her name, but she refused to acknowledge his presence.

“Lucy? Lucy?” Grant said to her. “It’s time. We have to go.”

When she was able to pry her eyes open, Grant’s shape was blurry in front of her as he knelt down by her bedside. Outside, it was still dark.

“Don’t make me pour a bucket of water on you Lucy, please?” Grant pleaded and his words hovered in the place where sleep beckoned her, but where her mind was aware, but not awake.

“No—” she protested.

“Wake up, please. We have to go. I’ve checked the wind…heading south…at sunrise. It’s a mile to my house, Lucy. We have to hurry. Who knows if the weather will be right tomorrow. It’s Oregon after all. We have to catch the wind just right.”

“I don’t want to go—” she slurred. But she felt Grant reach a hand under her back, lift her forward. “Okay, okay,” she said when her body was upright.