He was instantly reminded of what had happened to Jake. He remembered what Luke had said about the AAD: it would deploy at 750 feet and catch Kat before she hit dirt. But if her canopy was still flapping around, it could just as easily get tangled with it and fail.
Ethan ran over to the door. He could just make out Kat plummeting downwards, spinning out of control towards the Earth. Her canopy was towing behind her like a huge scarf – it would have to be cut away. Ethan knew only one person had any hope of reaching the handle on the harness to release the canopy and then deploy the reserve.
So he leaped out after her.
He arched, flipped, stabilized. He could see Kat far off and below to his left. She was still spinning, totally out of control. All he could think about, his entire focus, was Kat and how he was going to stop her smashing into the ground. He pushed his arms back and shot forward, accelerating fast, tracking across the sky like an Exocet missile.
It seemed to Ethan that the next few seconds stretched out for ever. Kat was so far away, and had such a head start on him. He checked his altimeter: 9,000 feet pinged past. Then 8,000.
Suddenly he was level with Kat. She appeared so abruptly in front of him that he had to really struggle to keep himself stable. Now, though, they were falling at the same rate, 120 mph – terminal velocity. She was spinning wildly and Ethan had to get close enough to deploy her canopy – which meant really, really close. So with little movements of his body here and there, he gradually, ever so gradually, edged forward.
Ethan checked his altimeter. Checked it again. They’d pinged past 7,000 feet now. They were running out of time. He had to hurry, get in before they both hit the dirt.
He could almost hear the seconds ticking by.
His best bet, he figured, was to aim for the handle that would cut away the main canopy. That way, even if he wasn’t able to pull the reserve, Kat’s AAD would sort it out, and he’d have enough time to push away and deploy his own canopy.
6,000 feet…
So, with a final move, Ethan brought himself in towards Kat, reaching out to grab her with both hands.
But he came in too fast, too hard, and didn’t have a chance to stop himself and slow down. The thump as he connected with her sent a shockwave through him, and he felt something in his left shoulder pop. Then his arm went numb. Dead to the world.
5,000 feet…
Now they were both in trouble: Kat was out of control and unconscious, and Ethan had one arm totally out of action. Amazingly, he’d managed to keep hold of Kat with his right hand, and it was on the handle that would cut away Kat’s canopy. Keeping himself calm, Ethan managed to get them both stable; then, with a huge yank, he tugged the handle.
4,000 feet…
Kat’s main canopy disappeared above. She and Ethan continued to plummet downwards at 120 mph.
Ethan saw the handle to pull Kat’s reserve. With a deep breath, he lunged for it, felt his fingers close round it, and yanked.
Kat, still unconscious, disappeared, swept up above him by the explosion of her reserve. But all Ethan could think about, as he tracked away to find some safe air, was that he was seriously in the shit; with his arm out of action, he was unable to reach his ripcord to release his own canopy. He twisted round, but his arm hurt like hell, wouldn’t move. He tried again, but the movement sent him into a spin and he floundered in the air, unstable. Ignoring the pain, the panic, he righted himself, got back on track for the DZ, then had another go, tried to reach across, couldn’t…
Ethan checked his altimeter. He’d just pinged past 3,000 feet.
SHIT!
17
He didn’t have time to think about how bad everything was. What he had to do was get the hell out of the deep shit he found himself in. The thought that in saving Kat’s life he could soon be ending his own really pissed him off.
Get a grip, he told himself. Focus.
Unable to reach the ripcord for his main canopy, he was now reliant on his reserve. There were two ways to activate that: use his good arm, the one still keeping him stable, to pull the toggle and release the reserve; or do nothing and trust the AAD to do its stuff. If he reached over to pull the toggle, he’d spin and lose control. The spin could cause the lines to twist and that would be it – bounce time. But if he did nothing and the AAD failed, he was dead anyway.
The altimeter pinged again – he’d just passed 2,000.
He didn’t like leaving things up to fate and his equipment. He gritted his teeth and went for the toggle. But, as expected, the movement of his good arm spun him violently to the right, straining his neck. He tried again and again, but each time he came within inches of the toggle, then spun again.
Ethan heard his altimeter ping. He’d zipped past 1,000 feet. Everything was now down to the AAD.
Ethan closed his eyes…
… and felt himself yanked from 120 to 10 mph in seconds. His knackered arm flapped around, then smacked him hard in the face. The sensation stung. He didn’t mind though. It meant he was alive.
As Ethan glided gently to the ground, in the silence underneath his reserve canopy, he screamed. It was all he could do. He’d saved someone’s life, nearly killed himself in the process, but survived none the less. It was definitely something to scream about.
When he landed, he was still screaming. The reserve, not being very manoeuvrable, had placed him a few hundred metres away from the DZ, so he just lay there for a few moments, trying to take it all in. He’d never been so close to death. It wasn’t something he ever wanted to experience again. But now that he had, now that he’d been seconds away from oblivion, he felt that something monumental had changed for him. OK, so the skydiving had given him a chance to see what he was capable of, to realize that there was more to life than worrying about exams and his dad. But what he’d just done – saving Kat, saving himself – had made him feel more alive than ever before. In fact, it was as though he’d been asleep his whole life and had only now fully woken up. He took a deep breath, held it, breathed out. He felt absolutely and completely aware of every part of his body, like every single bit of who he was buzzed with life. Everything around him looked clearer, the colours brighter, the air fresher. He knew then that skydiving wasn’t just a part of his life, it was his life.
Ethan heard a motorbike pulling up close, then someone jogging over.
‘I hope you’re not dead, because if you are I’ll have to ride back and get the minibus to shift your sorry carcass.’
Ethan looked up to see Johnny grinning down at him. ‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Not dead. Not even slightly.’
‘Anything broken?’
Ethan waved his one good arm. ‘This one works fine, the other one doesn’t. I felt it pop when I bumped into Kat.’
Johnny sat down, helped him to sit up. ‘You saved Kat’s life, Eth.’
‘And the AAD saved mine,’ said Ethan. ‘Kat OK?’
Johnny nodded. ‘Yeah, but she’s gone to the hospital for a check-up. Sam spotted her first. He was watching the plane when she jumped. He knew something was wrong right away.’
‘So he saw me jump out after her?’
‘It was unbelievable, Eth, just insane…’ Johnny paused. ‘You know you could’ve been killed?’
‘Wasn’t really thinking about that,’ said Ethan. ‘I saw Kat fall from the plane unconscious; didn’t really have much choice but to go out after her.’
They heard the rumble of a large engine and turned to see Sam’s Defender come to a standstill a few metres away. Sam got out, leaving the engine running, jogged over, nodded. ‘Ethan.’
‘Sam…’ Ethan nodded back.
‘Can you walk?’
Ethan nodded again.
‘His arm’s shot though,’ said Johnny. ‘Guess he’ll be following Kat to the hospital.’
‘Help me get him into the Defender,’ said Sam, looking at Johnny.