Broken Wings

Survival

Shit! Fire on my left wing! Flashing lights appeared in every panel and indicator, and alarms blared in my ears. I was losing speed and altitude, and my control was starting to slip again! There was no way I'd be able to land like this. Looks like that rat bastard got me after all! I glanced out the canopy and saw the world rotating outside my plane. Great, I was flat-spinning too. A shriek of rending metal screamed through the cockpit, and I checked left again to see another strip of that wing's skin had ripped loose to flap violently in the airstream. This was unsalvageable. Time to bail! I reached for the yellow and black striped handle between my legs, cursed the lucky fuck who shot me up once more, and pulled. Explosive bolts popped like a string of firecrackers around the canopy, and I slammed down in my seat as it rocketed up and away from my doomed F-35. A few seconds later, my fighter's left wing sheared completely off, unleashing a fireball of burning fuel that engulfed everything. There was an even brighter flash, and a shockwave impacted me when one of the remaining missiles exploded, scattering burning wreckage across the uncaring sky below me. Damn, that was way too close!

After the explosion, the only sound was wind whistling past my helmet. I was free falling. The brush with death and the weightless rush of skydiving forced a manic grin to break out across my face. But an ominous thunk, more felt than heard over the screaming airstream, made that grin vanish. Something was wrong. I looked up and... Still no pilot chute. Not good.

I reached up and behind my helmet, trying to feel for whatever had happened since there was no way I could turn my head to see. A nauseous panic filled my chest as I failed to identify the problem. Oh shit, that's bad!

The sea of forest below was approaching fast, but I had to really strain my neck to see it. While I stretched my arms in a frantic attempt to find and fix whatever was wrong with my parachutes, my legs caught the wind like streamers on a kite. This stabilized me so I fell back first, dragged down by the ejection seat that was supposed to save me. My panic reached a peak as I realized there was nothing I could do to fix this. I was utterly fucked.

I watched the sky for a few moments as this certainty set in, then, with nothing left to do but wait, I went limp and closed my eyes. The panic faded somewhat as I accepted my unavoidable death. I listened to the wind roar past, and I tried to distract myself from what was coming by reflecting on my life. I really did do my best. I'd worked hard to earn my pilot wings, and I'd loved the job and the freedom that came with them. And I was pretty sure I'd made a difference in the end. I regretted that I'd never see my parents, my brother Logan, or my squadmates again, but I didn't think there was anything I'd do different if I could. Wait, yes there is! I'd go find whichever jackass failed at packing my parachute and-

CRACK! The first branch broke me from my trance as it also began to break my fall. CRACK! "AAAAHHHHH!!!" I screamed as I careened through the canopy, shattering branch after branch and praying not all the cracks I heard and felt were my bones breaking. Finally, with a colossal thump that took my breath away, I hit the ground back first, rolled in my seat, and slid to a halt.

Mind searing, tortuous pain seized my entire body, and I didn't think I'd even be able to draw a breath. I tried and felt nothing but an empty pull in my lungs. I'd have laughed if I was able. Instead tears welled up in my eyes. To survive a fall like that only to suffocate on the ground because I couldn't force myself to take one measly breath? That would be total bullshit! I scrabbled at my face, peeling off my mask and ripping my helmet away even as I tried again and again to draw breath. No change.

Spots began to appear in my vision. I started panicking again, but somehow, I also felt strangely detached, like I was watching someone else. Was I really dying? Was this what it was like? Or maybe I was just an observer, curious to see if this unfortunate creature would manage to buy itself a few more minutes of life. One more heave, one more nothing. My vision was all but gone, and I knew one more failure would release me from the pain and the annoying animal panic which was fading with everything else. My spirit was leaving; I was already dead but I knew I had to try to breathe one last time before the end. The shadow creeping close to take me wouldn't be satisfied unless all my strength was spent. So ready to finally be done with it, I gathered what little energy remained in the body that barely belonged to me anymore, tried to draw breath one final time -- and I slammed back into my skull as my lungs sucked in a tiny puff of air!