Free Lunar Colony by Patrick Kinney Page B

expeditions had the same goal: the discovery of cryptids, strange creatures whose existence has been mentioned, suspected, talked about in hushed whispers—but never truly confirmed by science. Creatures such as Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, or the Atlantic Sea Serpent. Cryptids were Harold Mews’s obsession, and they had become Annie’s, too.
    So, despite her parents’ protests, Annie packed her bags, prepared the hot-air balloon, and took to the skies.

    She was getting close now, and she saw that she was not the only one drawn to the contest. She had a bird’s-eye view of the road leading into Bucky Cove; it was lined with hundreds of vehicles, all approaching the small town.
    And it wasn’t just cars and trucks! All manner of adventurers in all manner of vehicles were drawn to the contest:

    Another hot-air balloon, far in the distance.
    A zeppelin, high above her.
    An old biplane zooming past her, sputtering and coughing.
    Below her, a man in a hang glider swooping and diving.
    It would be quite the contest indeed. But Annie had a leg up. She had studied cryptids. She knew where to look and she knew—
    Annie’s thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched howl. Annie gripped the side of the basket and spun.
    It was a jet! Futuristic and fast. And it was rocketing toward her . . .
    “Oh, bananas!” Annie shrieked as she furiously adjusted the heat and jerked the propeller.
    “C’mon, c’mon . . .” Annie said, eyeing the fast-approaching jet.
    With a shrill shriek, the jet blasted past her. Annie caught a quick glimpse of the pilot: a bug-eyed woman with bright pink hair interrupted by a white lightning-bolt-shaped streak. Across the side of the jet were the words GRIMLOCK GLIDER . The
Grimlock Glider
—shiny and silver, with upturned wings and purple lines—looked like something out ofthe old science-fiction magazines Annie loved to read.
    “Watch it, ya flying jerk!” Annie shouted.
    The jet left a hot trail in its wake, causing an updraft that rocked and tossed Annie’s balloon. Next came the downdraft, which forced the balloon toward the ground. Annie cranked the propane heater, but the air currents were too strong. The balloon was out of control and sinking fast.
    Annie groaned as she desperately jerked the propeller back and forth.
This adventure is off to a fantastic start . . .
    Annie peeked over the side of the basket. The ground beneath her was growing larger and larger as she spiraled down faster and faster . . .

The Contest
    Mere feet above the road and just seconds before crashing, Annie flung the propeller lever and the balloon swooped back up, catching a wind current.
    Annie may have avoided becoming a splattered splotch on the road, but she wasn’t out of the woods yet—in fact, she was heading straight
into
the woods! The balloon was careening toward a small grouping of trees. She needed to get the balloon higher.
    She spun the gear on the propane heater, giving it as much gas as it could handle.
    Annie looked up.
Incoming tree!
    There was a loud
CRACK!
and then a
WHOOSH!
as the basket clipped the treetops. A leaf with a big bug on it flew into Annie’s mouth and—
Yechh!—
she spit it out.
    A long plastic banner was strung across the Main Street entrance to Bucky Cove. It read HAROLD MEWS WELCOMES THE WORLD’S GREATEST ADVENTURERS!
    With a
rip,
Annie tore right through the banner. The plastic wrapped around her face so that she couldn’t see.
    “Bananas!” Annie exclaimed.
    Thankfully, the wind ripped the banner away—just in time for Annie to see that she was on a collision course with a tall brick chimney poking out of the top of a cute old house.
    “Double bananas!” she screamed. She threw the propeller lever again and sent the balloon swinging to the side. The basket scraped against the side of the house. A very round old woman with blue hair in white curlers stuck her fist out the window and called Annie all sorts of names.
    “I’m really sorry!”