by Unknown
The flight was smooth: no bumps – not that Ethan cared. He was jumping at 5,000 feet, opening at 3,500. Sam quizzed Ethan with a few questions, checked his kit, made sure everything was good. Ethan knew it took about ten seconds to fall the first 1,000 feet, then another five seconds for every 1,000 from then on. That gave him about fifteen seconds of freefall time. It wasn’t much, but it was more than enough. All the other stuff he’d been doing during his previous jumps, such as 360s and front rolls and tracking, was about improving his confidence in the air. But jumping at 5,000 feet didn’t allow time to do any of that. This time he’d be totally focused on what the level-eight jump was all about: executing a clean exit, getting stable, deploying the canopy, then making a good landing in the field by the DZ.
That was all there was to it.
Simple.
The call came from the pilot. They were now on the jump run – five minutes to exit. Ethan felt adrenaline rip through him, and started the countdown in his head.
Five . . .
He began to run through everything he’d been taught by Sam and Johnny: how to exit, how to arch his back to flip over and stabilize in flight.
Four . . .
He rehearsed how to deploy his canopy, and what to do if he had to cut away.
Three . . .
His dad’s face flickered momentarily in his mind, telling him he was a waster, a mistake. But Ethan knew better now; knew just how wrong his dad was, had always been. He pushed the image away.
Two . . .
He focused on the sense of self-belief and purpose that Johnny and Sam had given him. Skydiving was fast taking over his life. He was determined to be the best.
One . . .
He knew he could do it. He wasn’t backing out now. Time to focus . . .
Zero . . .
Ethan jumped . . .
. . . and his exit was smooth. He fell from the plane, saw it above him, arched his back to flip himself over and stabilize. The view was more vivid than on any other dive he’d done, like he was even more aware of what was around him because he was up there alone.
Shit, I’m alone . . . Ethan felt his face break into a smile. He beamed. And then he laughed.
This is it! I’m really skydiving! YES!
He checked his altimeter, eye-balled the DZ, kept himself stable. The air rushing past felt like it was trying to rip his head off: 4,000 feet; 3,900 . . . 3,800 . . . 3,700 . . . 3,600 . . . 3,500 . . .
Ethan pulled the ripcord.
No sound had ever made him feel so relieved as this one – his canopy bursting into life above him, pulling him from 120 mph to 10 mph in a matter of seconds.
He checked everything, made sure the toggles were working OK, banked left, right, pulled himself round to head towards the DZ.
Something caught his eye, far off and above him. It was the other skydiver.
Must’ve left soon after me, he thought as he saw the final moments of the diver’s canopy opening. But that wasn’t important. All that mattered was this moment.
He’d just jumped from a plane. On his own.
Ethan was on top of the world.
13
Ethan landed smoothly as Sam jogged over, Johnny in tow.
‘Well?’ Sam asked.
Ethan grinned, pulled his canopy in, and rolled it up to take it back to the hangar.
‘Reckon he enjoyed it,’ said Johnny.
‘Then we consolidate,’ said Sam. ‘We can get a couple of jumps in today if you’re interested.’
‘Oh, I’m interested,’ Ethan replied.
‘Good,’ said Sam. ‘I’ll go sort out a fresh rig for you.’ And he turned to walk back to the hangar.
Johnny followed, calling for Ethan to hurry up. ‘I’ll book us into the next available space,’ he said. ‘Sam’s coming with us as well. You must’ve impressed him.’
‘Really?’ said Ethan. ‘I thought you did the consolidation stuff on your own.’
‘You do,’ said Johnny. ‘You’ll be doing it all by yourself. We’re just coming along for the ride. But you need to know one thing . . .’
‘What’s that then?’ asked Ethan.
Johnny smiled. ‘If Sam’s coming, then you’re really in the shit!’
Ethan stopped mid-step. ‘Why’s that?’
‘It’s simple,’ said Johnny. ‘If you’re average, Sam leaves you alone. Not interested. Better things to do. But if you show promise, then he can’t help himself; he goes all out to make you better and better. And that’s hard work because he’s never happy with anything but perfection.’ He stopped and smiled. ‘After all, look at me!’
Ethan laughed. All the way back to the hangar he was quizzed on his first solo, but inside he was thinking about what Johnny had just said. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud that somehow he’d impressed Sam. He knew that wasn’t easy. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it. Everything had happened so fast since he’d first met Johnny. Now here he was, a qualified skydiver.
Luke came out of the hangar to meet them.
‘Well done, Eth,’ he said. ‘Welcome to the club.’ He reached out and shook Ethan’s hand. ‘Sam’s told me you’re off up again in a bit so I’ve sorted you out a new rig. Johnny – you can repack your own.’
‘Don’t you want to do it for me?’ asked Johnny. ‘I never get the creases right, not like you.’ He attempted a hurt look and kicked a stone disconsolately.
Luke smiled, shook his head and took Ethan’s rig. ‘Grab some scoff. It’ll be a couple of hours before you’re in the air again.’
Ethan thanked Luke as the man in black walked past. His visor was up now, but Ethan still couldn’t see much of his face. Ethan nodded as he headed towards the car park.
‘Ah,’ said Johnny. ‘Your first fan! Trust me, it’s a nightmare: the adoration, the sex . . .’
‘He was the only other skydiver in the plane when I went up with Sam,’ Ethan explained. ‘For some reason no one else was jumping. Still, it was nice to have the thing as private as possible. Helped me to focus.’
‘Hungry?’ asked Johnny.
‘Always,’ said Ethan.
Before they headed off for Ethan’s first consolidation jump, Sam quickly grilled him on a few drills and hand signals, and ran him through a set sequence for the skydive. Then he checked Ethan’s rig, pulling the clips to make sure they were secure. Finally he said, ‘For this jump, I want to see a clean exit, stable position, and then two three-sixties, left then right, good deployment of canopy. Johnny and I will follow you in.’
‘And we’re jumping from thirteen thousand?’ asked Ethan.
Sam nodded. ‘You’ve shown you can skydive solo. That’s what the level-eight jump is all about. Now you need enough air time before deploying your canopy to practise your skills. And that’s what consolidation is for. This is where you really get the chance to prove yourself.’
Ethan was quiet – not scared, just focused, running through everything Sam had said.
Johnny looked at him. ‘You’ll nail each jump, mate,’ he said. ‘Not as quickly as me, obviously, but I’ll be there to help. And I’ll make sure I get your good side on camera.’
Ethan couldn’t help but smile. ‘I have a good side?’
‘I’ll let you know,’ said Johnny.
‘Here’s the minibus,’ Sam growled, shaking his head at Johnny. ‘In.’
The rush of air as the plane door was pulled open slammed into Ethan and momentarily took his breath away. He suddenly felt very aware of the height he was jumping from: all there was between him and the ground below was the few centimetres of the plane’s skin beneath his backside. He closed his eyes, squeezed them shut so hard that pinpricks of light stabbed his brain, then breathed deep and slow.
13,000 feet . . . Easy . . .
The call came. Ethan was first to jump, with Sam and Johnny following. He’d be first out of the plane, first to fall from 13,000. He avoided looking round at all the other faces in the plane, the eyes of both seasoned
jumpers and newbies.
And then he jumped.
Air caught him, pulled at him, the sound of it battered his ears. He saw the plane above him, and then two other dots in the sky, before arching his back, flipping over.
Earth below, sky above. Sky everywhere.
Rock ’n’ roll!
Ethan got himself stable, then spied Johnny and Sam coming in, tracking across to him till they were close. He got the thumbs-up from both of them. Knowing he was getting it right made him feel a lot more confident.
Johnny grinned, then turned upside down, feet pointing straight up, keeping himself stable with his arms and hands. Ethan burst out laughing, the sound swept away by the wind.
Johnny flipped back to the stable position, then turned again so that he was just sitting in the air, as though relaxing on an invisible chair. Then he stabilized again.
Ethan looked at Sam, who gave a hand signal that told Ethan to do a 360.
Ethan did two – one left, one right. Then he returned to the stable position, found the DZ below, and got on course. All he had to do now was deploy. But he still had a few seconds of freefall left.
And each second made his smile grow and grow.
He checked his altimeter. It was time to deploy. He looked at Johnny and Sam. Both nodded and sped away from him to give him space. Then he reached round with his right hand and pulled.
That sound again – bed sheets flapping in the wind – then total silence, almost eerie. Ethan didn’t know if his face was aching because of the freefall and the wind, or because he just couldn’t wipe the smile off it. In the end he didn’t even bother trying. He just kept his eyes on the field next to the DZ, and guided himself in, correcting his canopy now and again with a tug of a toggle, until the ground rushed up to meet him. He pulled both toggles, and landed, not entirely gracefully, on his arse.
He quickly got to his feet, started to pull in his canopy. Adrenaline was still coursing through him from the dive and it felt better than good. He could taste it; his fingers tingled. He caught sight of Johnny coming in for a perfect landing. He made everything look easy, look good. When he was clear, in came Sam, and Ethan was blown away by the speed at which he zipped in, how he then pulled up into a perfect touchdown.
Johnny waved to Ethan and walked over to meet him on the way back to the hangar. Sam sent a casual salute.
‘I said you’d nail it.’ Johnny clapped Ethan on the shoulder. ‘You’re good up there, man, you really are.’
‘You serious?’
‘Dead.’
Sam called over. ‘Wait up, lads.’
Ethan and Johnny stalled as Sam marched over to join them, canopy over his shoulder like a huge dead jellyfish.
He looked at Ethan and smiled. ‘You should be proud of yourself, Ethan,’ he said and reached out to shake Ethan’s hand. ‘Well done.’
Ethan felt as though his arm was about to be ripped off. ‘Thanks.’
‘I never say that unless I mean it,’ said Sam, still gripping Ethan’s hand. ‘You’ve a natural talent for this. Don’t waste it.’
‘I won’t,’ said Ethan, but the words didn’t exactly express how he felt right then. Getting such praise from someone like Sam – with his experience, his perfectionism – was amazing. Ethan had never been so damned proud in his life. For the first time ever he felt like he’d actually achieved something worthwhile. And he knew then that he didn’t just like skydiving, he was addicted to it – just as Johnny had guessed.
By the time Ethan had thought of anything intelligent to say, Sam had gone. He turned to Johnny, shaking out his hand to get the blood flowing again. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
Johnny smiled, set off walking again. ‘Remember what I said? You’re in the shit now, mate; Sam’s really got his teeth into you.’
A shout brought them both up sharp. They looked round to see someone trotting over from the side of the DZ.
‘Jake,’ said Johnny. ‘What’s he doing here?’
Ethan saw where Jake had come from. ‘Kat’s over there.’ He pointed. ‘He must’ve been talking to her, watching us jump.’
‘Having fun, are we? You and Sam enjoying yourselves with the rookie?’ Jake yelled.
‘Nice to see you too, Jake,’ said Johnny. ‘What are you doing here? Aren’t you still grounded?’
‘Don’t give a shit. Like I’m going to listen to Sam. His judgement’s totally out. He’s losing it in his old age.’
‘Come on, Eth,’ said Johnny, and carried on past Jake.
Jake stepped in front, blocking their way; nodded at Ethan. ‘He my replacement?’
‘What’s going on with you, Jake?’ asked Johnny. ‘Why are you really here?’
‘I’m asking if this rookie is my replacement; if Sam’s eyeing him for jumping with the team.’
‘No idea what Sam’s thinking,’ said Johnny. ‘He’s just helping Ethan skydive. That’s his job, remember?’
‘I remember all right,’ said Jake, getting up close. ‘I remember how you were always his favourite. Is that what this is? Another little Johnny clone for Sam to look after, eh?’
‘Hey,’ said Ethan. ‘Leave it.’
Johnny laughed. ‘Jake, shut up and piss off. You’re talking out of your arse.’
Jake pushed him, and Ethan stepped in. ‘I said leave it.’
‘Look, head back to the hangar,’ said Johnny, looking at Ethan. ‘I’ll sort this out.’
‘Yeah, that’s it, Rookie,’ said Jake as Ethan hesitated. ‘Do what Johnny tells you. Head back to teacher. Go on, like a good little boy.’
Ethan looked at Jake’s sneering face, and didn’t see the boot put out to trip him up. He caught it with his left foot, tried to keep his balance, fell forward and slammed into the ground.
‘What the hell did you do that for?’ he shouted, and pushed himself up, but he was caught in his canopy and fell back, drowning in his rig.
Jake laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Then turned and jogged back over to Kat.
Johnny reached down and helped Ethan to his feet, untangling him. ‘You all right?’
Ethan nodded. ‘What is his problem?’
Johnny and Ethan watched as Jake said something to Kat, then jumped into his Porsche and sped out of the car park.
‘He’s got an unfortunate flaw,’ said Johnny, helping Ethan pick up his rig.
‘What’s that then?’
‘He’s a tosser.’
Ethan saw Johnny smile.
‘Forget Jake,’ said Johnny. ‘He’s just jealous, that’s all. You ready for another jump?’
Ethan nodded. It was the one question to which he knew the answer would always be ‘Yes!’
14
By the end of the day Ethan was exhausted; he was already in bed when his phone rang. He’d been relieved to find his dad absent when he got home – expecting to find him in front of the TV again, ready for another argument. But tonight he was spared.
Mum was out working. Jo had called him into her room for a chat. She was in the middle of another of her weird paintings. Ethan had stared at it in fascination. He could see that it was way cool, but he just didn’t get what it was supposed to represent. That didn’t matter though; he knew he didn’t have to understand it to support her.
Now, lying on his bed, listening to his phone ringing, he checked his watch. Eleven thirty. No one ever phoned him this late. He didn’t recognize the number.
He didn’t answer and the call went to answerphone.
A moment later, the phone rang again.
Ethan picked it up, stared at it. The flat was empty now; Mum wasn’t back from work and Jo had gone out with her mates. A thought struck him – what if it was Jo using someone else’s phone because her own was dead? What if it was an emergency?
He answered. ‘Yes?’
Silence.
‘Hello?’
Ethan could hear something in the background. Wind buffeting metal. Whoever it was, they were calling from FreeFall – he’d re
cognize the sound of the hangar doors anywhere. They were loose and always rattled in the wind.
A whisper: ‘I said I’d make you pay, Rookie.’
‘Jake?’
Laughter.
The phone went dead.
Ethan didn’t know how Jake had got his number, but it was the fact that he had called from FreeFall that bothered him most. What was the rich tosser up to now? Ethan had a feeling that it wasn’t anything good. And since it was him Jake had called, Ethan felt that it was up to him to go and stop him.
Instinct took over. He was up, out and cycling along the road to FreeFall before he knew what he was doing. It was a dark night and the lights on his bike were fading. As they flickered in the gloom, he willed them to stay alive just long enough.
Then they died.
But Ethan pushed on, pedalled hard, the wind in his eyes. All he could think about was Jake and the trouble he could cause at FreeFall without anyone there to stop him. The bloke was a total idiot. This was probably some kind of revenge or something. Whatever it was, Ethan was determined to sort it out.
He swung the bike round a sharp corner. Bright light flooded the road, blinding him. A car horn blared and the sound of screeching tyres shattered his concentration as a car swung past, only missing him because he swerved into the verge. He felt his front tyre smack into something hard and lurched to a stop.
Jeez . . . that was close . . .
For a few seconds he sat on his bike and tried to calm down. Then he looked at his front tyre. It was totally flat thanks to a jagged rip. FreeFall was still a fair distance away, and time was of the essence. He pulled out his phone, punched in a number.
‘Yeah?’
‘Johnny?’
‘Ethan, look, can I call you back? I’m a bit . . . busy . . .’
A girl giggled in the background. Typical Johnny.
‘It’s Jake,’ said Ethan. ‘I think he’s at FreeFall. He just called and—’
Johnny came back bullet-quick. ‘When?’
‘Just now. Said something about making me pay, then hung up.’
‘You sure he’s at FreeFall? Did he tell you?’
‘No,’ said Ethan, ‘but I could hear the hangar doors rattling in the background. He’s there, I know it. He could be messing with the rigs or something.’