The thought that all he had worked for was to come to nothing, caused him to well up with anger.
He got up from his seat and pulled open the door to the cockpit. The pilot looked up at him with surprise. Zak punched him across the face, knocking him clean out.
‘Zak!’ roared Mum.
Zak dragged the unconscious pilot onto the floor, then climbed into the seat. He grabbed the control wheel and pushed forwards, directing the plane downwards.
‘Zak!’ roared Mum again, now right into his earhole.
He winced, but was undeterred. He had no plan. He just wanted to scare everyone.
The plane quickly reached a steep angle, filling the view with the city below. A cacophony of voices now shouted at him to stop. Mum lost her balance and tumbled forward into the front of the cockpit.
‘Right now!’ she screamed.
Zak was almost on top of the control wheel. He brought his feet up and put them either side of it, then pulled back.
The largest dome grew in the middle of the cockpit window.
‘Hey Skye, can you see what shops they’ve got?’ said Zak straining.
He glanced behind to see Skye and Dad with their eyes shut, clenching whatever furniture they could hang on to.
Zak laughed. But the plane would not pull up.
‘Uh-oh,’ he said.
In a matter of seconds, the hexagonal framework making up the dome filled his vision, as the plane hurtled towards it.
Zak was aware of a loud smash. It was long and drawn out, as if slow-motion. He was thrown forwards and through the glass.
He felt no impact on his body. This was a family program. If it were truly realistic, he would have been cut to pieces.
It took him a few seconds to come to a stop. He somehow lay upside-down on the nose of the plane, saved from the fall by his trousers snagging on part of the wreckage.
