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    Death Drop
    Death Drop
    Death Drop
    Ebook87 pages57 minutes

    Death Drop

    By Melanie Jackson

    ()

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    About this ebook

    On his way to baseball practice, Zeke lines up for Vancouver's newest thrill ride: Death Drop, an elevator that falls faster than gravity.

    The theme of the ride is based on the story of Persephone, who tumbled into the underworld. Zeke tumbles into a frightening situation himself after he discovers a little girl who is lost. He takes her to the Death Drop manager's office. But later, when he tries to find out what happened with her, the ride's staff say they never saw her! To find the missing girl, Zeke must navigate a devilish plot that includes Dante Gabriel Rossetti's famous painting Proserpine, a fiery drop into flames, and an angry coach.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOrca Book Publishers
    Release dateOct 25, 2016
    ISBN9781459811942
    Death Drop
    Author

    Melanie Jackson

    Melanie Jackson lives in Littleton, NH with her husband, Corey Jackson. She works full time as a licensed nursing assistant. Melanie was born with a rare medical condition called FFU (Femur, Fibula, Ulna Dyspepsia); and dyslexia. She is the second oldest of seven children, was raised by a single mom and was homeschooled. Reading and writing has never come easily to Melanie but she was inspired by her favorite authors to keep trying. With hard work and dedication she began writing and found worlds and stories existed within her she had never known. The journey to publication was filled with countless struggles but she learned every step of the way. Melanie hopes to give someone the same joy and inspiration she was given.

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      Book preview

      Death Drop - Melanie Jackson

      Feast

      Chapter One

      She’s gone.

      It was a little girl with an English accent. She sounded cross. She was nothing to do with me. I thought she was talking to someone else in line.

      I kept staring up at Death Drop from my place in the line on the sidewalk.

      At 170 feet high, attached to a black tower, the elevator was Vancouver’s newest thrill ride. Death Drop plunged its passengers down at forty miles an hour. Fifteen times the speed of a normal elevator. Faster than gravity.

      Like the tower, the elevator was black—with one difference. It had a huge blood-red pomegranate painted on one side.

      Death Drop was based on a Greek myth. Hades, the king of the underworld, gave a pomegranate to a beautiful woman named Persephone, whom he had kidnapped. She ate a few seeds. Who wouldn’t? Pomegranates are bittersweet, refreshing.

      But sly Hades had put a spell on the pomegranate. Eating the seeds meant that Persephone had to marry Hades and spend half of every year with him.

      Behind Death Drop, people kayaked on False Creek. The water was blue-green in the sun. The kayakers didn’t seem to be thinking about nature though. With their paddles, they pointed up to the tower that had been built for the elevator. Everybody was talking about the big drop.

      To reach the elevator, you walked up the tower’s curving, windowless corridors. You got treated to special horror effects—To die for! the ads promised. There was even a famous painting of Persephone, on loan from England.

      I had arrived early for baseball practice at the park across the street. I’d decided to see what all the hype was about.

      In orange, flame-shaped letters, a sign explained that groups of twenty at a time went in. The next group had to wait until the first group crashed down in the elevator.

      While waiting, I tossed my baseball up and down.

      "She’s gone."

      I looked down. A kid with sausage-like blond curls was talking to me.

      Out of the whole Death Drop lineup, why come to me for help? I didn’t look very respectable. My LA Angels T-shirt was streaked with mud.

      Besides, I was a boy. Kids with problems needed a nice lady. A middle-aged, motherly type.

      You can’t find your mom? I asked. I didn’t put a lot of friendliness into my voice.

      She scowled. "My aunt," she said as if I should know.

      Right, I said. I glanced up and down the line of people. If I left it to help the kid, I’d lose my place.

      I spotted an attendant at the entrance. He wore black jeans and a black T with a pomegranate design. He was pale, with a pinched expression like he didn’t want to be there. Maybe he thought he was too good to be taking tickets.

      I told the kid, That’s who you need. Someone who works here.

      She shook her head. The sausage-like curls bounced. She pointed to me. To my baseball shirt.

      Angels, she said. Angels help people.

      Screams ripped through the air. Death Drop was plunging!

      The top half of the elevator slid back. Now the passengers could see the ground hurtling toward them. The elevator tipped forward. They screamed louder.

      Then—flames leaped from the earth. Death Drop zoomed right into them.

      Or so it appeared. The flames were gas-powered, from jets built in a circle around the elevator. No one was at risk of getting burned.

      The elevator landed. People staggered out. One guy, looking kind of green, ran into a washroom.

      The blond kid was still watching me.

      With a great effort, I kept my voice patient. About my T-shirt. The Los Angeles Angels are a team. See, I’m into baseball. I’m a pitcher.

      The girl nodded. You will help me.

      I was not getting through to this kid. I wasn’t used to dealing with children. I had no younger siblings. And my life consisted of baseball, baseball, baseball.

      I decided the best plan was to forge ahead. I smiled brightly at her. So! Now that we’ve cleared that up, why don’t you go over to that guy in black. He’ll—

      Take care of you, I meant to say. I never got the words out.

      The kid opened her mouth wide and howled. Tears sprang from her eyes. I’d never seen anything like it.

      People turned to stare. They looked from me to the kid and back again. The stares turned to glares. I was being mean. I was bullying a little kid.

      I gave up. I took the girl’s hand. Let’s go find your aunt.

      She kept bawling. But she let me lead her to the attendant.

      I have a lost child, I began.

      The attendant was telling a boy with thick glasses that he didn’t meet the height requirement. He pointed to a

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