Wednesday, February 28, 2007
New Beginning 228
“There’s a parachute in that locker,” Sam yelled. Anti-artillery bullets shattered the cockpit, ricocheted inside the old plane. I buckled my parachute.
“They’ll shoot you down. We have to reach the escarpment. There are caves there that can provide shelter.” Engine #4 burst into flame. Airspeed dropped. The plane shook. Tried to fly. Falling. Glenn throttled down #4.
“Grab the stick and help me pull it up. We need to gain altitude.” I jumped into the copilot’s seat and yanked the stick. Ground rose faster than the plane climbed. Glen bent the throttle levers back. The engines screamed in death agonies, climbing once more. An updraft lifted the plane. It clipped trees. Killed birds. The escarpment came into view.
“Jump now.” Sam yelled, bracing the stick. Engine bearings shrieked as metal scored metal. Engine #1 seized, ripped apart. We jumped. We watched. Half-wingless, the plane spiraled downward. A final descent. A fiery end.
Too late I realized that if the plane was clipping treetops and killing birds, it sure as hell wasn't high enough for our chutes to open.
So within moments we were impaled on sheared tips of trees. Then we grabbed our sticks again, if you know what I mean, because hey, when you're impaled on treetops in the middle of nowhere, you might as well yank the stick.
Opening: Anonymous.....Continuation: Dr. Hack