|| Amelia ||

The pavement slabs are cracked. Childishly, I begin to hop between the lines, feet pattering on the concrete. Just doing something so silly and small only makes the ache in my chest worsen. The urge I have for simplicity in my life is so huge that I think it might swallow me whole.

The pavement slabs are cracked. So is my heart, my life; everything stripped itself apart these few weeks, and the only thing left behind is this dull ache.

Maisie lingers behind. I usher her along like a mother duck, and all at once I'm filled with a sense of envy. Her brain is wired in such a way that things don't matter. She can stare at things all day long, mumble her nursery rhymes, and nothing will change that.

I pull her along, and she begins to giggle. That makes the jealousy go, and instead, it's replaced with a warm feeling. Something that spreads from the centre of my chest outwards.

"I love you, you know," I tell her. She only gawks at me with those huge, brown eyes and blinks.

"Bus or Power Travel?" someone says from the front. I look up to where Josh is standing. He's stopped on the cracked pavement, feet on a snaky line, with Angie by his side. His eyes run over Maisie and me, and I swear I see something in his gaze soften. "Which one?"

"Whichever's quicker," replies Angie, and I nod.

"Travel, then."

It's exhilarating, the feeling of your feet being swept up from the floor. There's a rushing in my ears and I watch as the landscape runs down below as though trying to catch us up. A mighty chill hits the air, and I shiver, feeling myself being immersed in the cloud.

We are all grouped together, huddled like a herd of sheep, keeping Maisie in the middle. Josh's shoulders brush mine, and I feel myself tensing.

"It'll be three hours travelling," he says. "So you'd better put on warm clothes."

"You could have told us that back down on earth!" I reply, feeling the anger rush out, and it's a good sensation.

"Put it on now then," he replies, voice scathing. "You can move as long as you don't leave the circle."

I glance around. We are surrounded by fluffy white things. "I don't see it."

"When we're out of the clouds, you'll see."

Just then, we burst from the cover of the clouds and into bright sunlight. Flinching, I admire the blueness around us, the warmth slapping my cheek. But that's not all. Surrounding our little grouping is a floating, thin, white line that goes all the way round, encircling everyone.

"Don't pass that line," says Josh, "and you're safe."

Anxiously, I take off my rucksack. It's bulky and does no good at poking everyone else in the face. I undo the clip and rummage around, bringing out a bundle of fleeces. I pass one to Angie, the smaller one to my sister, and keep the third for myself.

"Don't have one for me?" Josh asks.

"No," I say, but that sounds a bit mean so I add, "I thought you had your own."

"I do, but I'm the one driving at the moment."

I realise he's right. His arms are slightly outstretched, and they move every time we swerve a little in one direction.

"Where exactly are we going?" Angie asks as I reach into the bag on his back for a jumper.

I can't see his face from here but I know he's uncomfortable—I can see it in the way his shoulders tense.

"Wait till we get there," he says.

"No," I say, indignant. "Tell us."

There's a pause at his end. "I got these instructions." And that's all he says.

* * *

I've discovered many things about Power Travelling. There's not only one white circle around us that blocks our escape, but two. Another arcs across our heads and under our feet which means, fortunately, that sitting is possible.

A second thing I've learnt is that the temperature can change drastically depending on the weather. One minute you're sitting down in the freezing cold, feeling condensation forming on your nose, and the next minute your nostrils seem to be steaming in the sunlight. But, luckily, because English weather is so gloomy all the time, the majority of the time I get to keep my coat on.

We play games to occupy ourselves. 'I Spy' would be a great contender if we weren't travelling at such a high speed. 'I Go To The Shops And I Buy...' is better, since nothing involves saying 'clouds' or 'sky' over and over.

By the time the first hour is up, we have played every travelling game we can think of.

"You should take a break soon," says Angie to Josh. "It's good to take a rest every two hours when you're driving."

He grimaces, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "Yeah, well we're not in a car, are we?"

"Just take a break when you feel tired," I say, and even I'm surprised at how sincere it sounds.

"And who will take over? If I stop, we're all going to fall out of this little bubble and probably die."

Josh, I think, when did you become such a pessimist?

"Don't worry," pops up another voice. A glance to the right tells me that it's Angie. "I can take over."

"You don't know how to drive," I tell her.

"We'd be killed in an instant," adds Josh.

"Don't you guys trust me?"

"No," Josh and I say at exactly the same time.

"It's not that difficult is it, Josh? And anyway, I'm the only one apart from you who's got the Power. And you can't go on like this for three hours. That's insane!"

"We can take a break back down on earth," I decide.

"That's probably for the best," says Josh, with a smile.

* * *

I can tell immediately when Josh is tired. And yet, when I think this, it makes me question why. It's not like I've been staring at him for two hours, have I?

His posture changes; his shoulders droop, eyes grow heavy, but there's still a determined look on his face.

"Rest time," I say.

He glances at me and nods. "Get ready for a bit of a crash landing."

I turn round and survey the land as we get closer. There's a spot of green that gets bigger, and if I lean out far enough, I can see the little flecks of yellow, the dryness of the mud.

Then suddenly I'm not sitting anymore. My body lurches forwards, and my hands grasp for a hold but there's nothing there.

I'm going to fall. Going to fall to my death, right into a green, mucky field.

I yelp as I'm yanked back, feeling the adrenaline pulse through me. I can feel someone's legs under me, the shape of their calf under my back, the individual fingers of a fist clenching my fleece.

"Amelia, are you okay?" comes Angie's panicked voice. But it wasn't her who pulled me back into the safety of the bubble.

"Fine," I reply, but it comes out breathless. I sit up, and the arms holding me fall away.

"If you'd fallen down there," says a hard voice, "you would be squished among some cowpats."

I turn to face him. "You saved me," I tell him. And the words I say next are the hardest to get out. They seem to stick to my throat, refusing to budge. "Thank you."

* * *

We land with not too much of a bump. Josh was right about the cowpats, however, because he has to swerve a lot in order to avoid them.

The field from this angle doesn't look yellow. It's mainly brown with flecks of green, but I can see the leftover wheat stems spewed across the ground.

We walk around for a bit, stretching out our muscles, soaking up the weak midday sunshine. One path leads us to a shaded fringe of a forest, where brown blends into the green. We keep walking, and then a strong scent hits my nose like a bullet.

In front of us, growing in patches is a tall plant full of purple spidery flowers. Long ago, the smell would have made me blissful but now it makes me uneasy.

"Ooh, lavender," says Angie, and she happily goes among the flowers, scrunching some up in the palm of her hand before taking in a long and deliberate sniff. I watch from the side, suddenly aware that he's behind me.

"I'm going," I say quickly. And then I turn, only to bump into his hard chest and the familiar scent of him.

He doesn't say a word as I pass, and I'm grateful for that.

I return to the site where we laid down our things. I begin to take our coats and I spread them so they all join up to form one huge sitting area. Then, I pull out a few tins of tuna, drain the oil out into the ground, and dig out a few plastic forks.

As bizarre as the meal is, it's surprisingly good. The taste of fish is something I haven't had in a long time, and its strong, distinctive taste stays on my tongue even as we pack up.

Then we're off in a flurry of clouds again, leaving the sunshine field behind.

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