PART 5
The wind hit like a wall.
My body spun once.
Twice.
I forced my arms wide and killed the rotation.
No rifle.
No main chute.
No radio.
But I still had the small emergency pack Jensen had shoved into my gear locker that morning.
One sentence had been written on tape.
IRONWOLF SAID WEAR IT.
I found the handle by touch.
Not yet.
Pull too high, they would see the canopy.
Pull too late, the river would break me open.
I counted.
Thirty-one.
Thirty-two.
Thirty-three.
Below, the Korengal flashed silver under moonlight.
Thirty-seven.
Thirty-eight.
I pulled.
The emergency canopy snapped open with a violence that almost ripped my shoulders from my body.
But I was no longer falling.
I was flying badly.
That was enough.
I hit the outer edge of the river feet-first and vanished under freezing black water.
The impact stole the world.
Then I heard my father’s voice in my memory.
“If anyone ever tells you fear means stop, they’re selling you a leash.”
I kicked upward.
May you like
My head broke the surface.
I was alive.
