Close up they look more like robots, silvery metallic shapes glinting inside the spheres of glowing light.
Fear coils inside my mind as I stare into the brightness. I want to move. I want to run. But we’re trapped inside this inflatable idiot ball and there’s nothing I can do.
There’s a crackle of static and then I feel the air start to harden around us.
I turn towards my dad and see the look of panic spreading across his face too. Outside the inflatable globe, the three glowing spheres seem to brighten and I wince as I wait for the silent explosion of light. Dad said we’d find an A to Z of adventure here, but I didn’t think this would mean being zapped by aliens while trapped in a zorb. Then I remember – it’s my dad who’s the alien, and maybe me too, but we’re still stuck inside this zorb.
Suddenly an idea hits me out of nowhere; a lightning flash of inspiration that gets me reaching for the dangling straps. We don’t need to get out of here to escape – we just need to move.
‘Hold on tight,’ I shout, poking my toes into the rubber footholds at the base of the zorb. I pull the Velcro belts across my shoulders and my stomach, pulling them tight as I try to strap myself in.
Realizing what I’m doing, Dad does the same. Facing each other, we grab hold of the handles on the opposite sides of the zorb’s inner core, our arms and legs outstretched as we stand there defenceless. Through the transparent plastic, the blue-white light seems brighter than the moon and if we’re going to do it, it has to be now.
‘Let’s go!’
Holding tight to the handles, we rock our bodies backwards and forwards as, with a reluctant squeaking noise, the zorb begins to move. It starts to roll forward, slowly at first, pushing open the metal gate as I feel myself turned upside down. The blood rushes to my head and then drains away almost immediately as the zorb continues to roll. I can hear the ground rumbling beneath us as the brightness fades away and is replaced by an onrushing dark.
We’re picking up speed, the inflatable plastic squelching around us as the zorb careers down the slope. I seem to have left my stomach behind as the floor of the zorb turns into the ceiling and then back into the floor, over and over again. I feel like I’m spinning around a black hole, the gravity getting stronger as the giant ball bounces past the trees.
I want to get off.
My knuckles whiten as I cling to the handles, my mouth opening wide in a scream. But no sound comes out as I’m flipped over again and gravity pushes the scream back down my throat. I’ve made a mistake – being zapped by killer robots would’ve been a quicker way to die.
I catch a glimpse of my dad as we tumble over again and I see the massive grin on his face.
‘WHEEEEEEEE!’
I don’t believe it. He’s actually enjoying this!
Every bump in the track sends the zorb flying higher. It feels like we’re travelling at one hundred miles an hour, and through the plastic walls the darkness seems to blur. I don’t know which way is up or down any more. The only thoughts left inside my head are a spin cycle of fear.
‘Woo-hoo!’ Dad shouts. ‘Eat zorb dust, killer robots!’
The inflatable ball crashes into a bank, bouncing sideways as it clears the trees, and I catch a glimpse of the tents in the field.
Oh no. How are we going to stop?
Gravity takes control of my trousers as the zorb picks up speed again. Through the translucent plastic I see lights spiralling past and then a dark shape looms out of the gloom. There’s no way to avoid it as zorbs don’t come fitted with brakes. Or a steering wheel. Basically, we’re just going to bounce to our deaths. The words escape my lips in a high-pitched squeak.
‘We’re going to crash!’
SPLAT!
With a thumping jolt, the zorb squashes the tent flat. I feel the Velcro belts straining at my chest as our giant hamster ball of death caroms forward towards its final destination.
The campfire has been built in front of the yurt. As the world spins wildly round, I glimpse the dads and kids milling around the fire. I imagine before we crashed through the tent they were happily toasting their flying saucer marshmallows, but as the zorb bounces forward they now seem to be running and screaming in fear.
The zorb is speeding straight for the campfire and I realize I’m going to have to add being toasted to death to my list of ways in which this zorb is trying to kill me.
Straight ahead, I see Flip Foxley waving his arms wildly as he tries to get us to stop. His mouth seems to be moving, but I can’t hear any words above the rumble of the zorb as we bounce forward across the grass.
‘Get out of the way!’ I shout.
For a second, Flip stands his ground, arms outstretched as though he thinks he can catch us. Then he seems to think better of this, diving to one side as the zorb hits a hummock and then soars straight over him.
A strange feeling of weightlessness comes over me as I watch the world tumbling by. Inside the zorb, Dad and I are spinning in a perfect orbit, the space between us disappearing as we fly through the air. Then I glimpse the roaring flames of the campfire and realize this is going to be rather a toasty landing.
But before we hit, a blinding light illuminates the zorb. I shut my eyes against the sudden glare and, when I dare to open them again, I see that we’re hanging suspended in the air. Beneath my feet, I can see the flames of the campfire, but as I look up towards the sky, I see a blue-white beam slicing through the core of the zorb.
We haven’t got away.