Chute Roll



  Chute Roll

  Sigmund Brouwer

  Copyright 1996 by Sigmund Brouwer. All rights reserved

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  Sigmund Brouwer's Rock & Roll Literacy series

  • Chute Roll

  To come:

  • Cliff Dive

  • Long Shot

  • Legend of Gilded Saber

  • Tyrant of the Badlands

  Chapter One

  I stood at the open door at the back part of the airplane. I held onto the side of the doorway. I stared down at the desert. To the south, I could see the city of Las Vegas. The buildings looked like little Lego blocks. I was 8,000 feet above the ground. That’s a mile and a half straight down. It’s a long ways to fall. Soon I would be throwing myself from the airplane into that mile and a half of empty space.

  I closed my eyes. The first step is never easy.

  Some guys carry a lucky rabbit’s foot. Not me. How lucky could the rabbit be if someone had been able to get its foot?

  I opened my eyes again. The roar of the engines changed as the pilot made a turn to take the airplane over the target far below. The wind noise rushed through my helmet. I shook from the force of the air that pushed over the airplane wings into the doorway.

  “Hey Jeff!”

  It was a shout from a girl standing right behind me in the airplane. Sabella Scanelli. She’s one of the best. My main competition. She and I were the only ones going up for this jump.

  I turned my head slightly. There wasn’t much time left before I needed to jump.

  “Yeah?” I shouted back.

  “Betcha a hundred dollars I land closer!”

  Closer meant closer to the target on the ground. We were both training for the biggest parachute event of the year.

  Instead of answering with another shout, I shook my head ‘no’.

  “Chicken?” There was a big grin across her suntanned face.

  She knew I wasn’t chicken. I just didn’t have her kind of money. Her father was a casino owner in Las Vegas. A shiny long black car brought her to the airport each time and took her away as soon as she was finished. Me? I wasn’t rich. I had to work at the flight school to pay for my jumps.

  “Chickens don’t fly!” I shouted above the wind. “But I do!”

  And I pushed myself into all that empty air.

  Chapter Two

  I love the feeling of letting the wind sweep me into a free fall. It is as close to flying as a person can get.

  Face down, I spread my legs and arms. Although I was falling at over a hundred miles an hour, I was still so high that the ground didn’t seem to be getting any closer. At least not yet. But if my parachute didn’t open…

  Far below me, was the brown of the desert. The airport runway was a dark slash of pavement across it. Farther way, was the large circle of the red and white target. Soon enough, I would have to concentrate on getting my angle right.

  For now, though, I was having fun. I leaned one way. Then the other. I moved my arms and swooped like a hawk. In free fall, without an open parachute, you can twist and turn in the speed of the wind.

  Finally, I pulled on my rip chord.

  I held my breath.

  Although I have jumped over 200 times, pulling the rip chord is the one thing that always makes me nervous. Because, for a few seconds, I wonder if my chute will open. In my nightmares, I’m always falling toward the ground. In my nightmares, I have two or three minutes to watch it rush toward me. In my nightmares, I have all that time to wonder what it would be like to smash into the ground.

  I held my breath and counted the seconds. One, two, three…

  Bang!

  My shoulder straps jerked me as the chute opened wide. It stopped my fall from a 120 miles per hour to ten miles per hour. It stopped me so fast that it seemed to yank at me, like a giant hand pulling me from above.

  I started to breathe again. Now all I had to do was guide myself toward the target as I floated downward.

  I looked over my shoulder to see where Sabella Scanelli was. I spotted her about a minute behind. She was a dark shape against the pale blue of the sky.

  I checked the ground.

  I checked Sabella.

  I checked the ground again.

  I checked Sabella. And nearly screamed.

  Her chute had tangled!

  The strings of the chute were all wound together and the chute could not fill with air.

  She tumbled toward me. Because I was floating and she was in free fall, she gained on me like a rock.

  I saw her hit the breakaway cord and release her main chute. She yankd at her second rip cord for her reserve parachute.

  Nothing happened. No chute opened behind her.

  I couldn’t hear her scream, but her mouth was wide open in terror.

  A second later, she flashed past me on her way toward her death.

  There was only one thing to do. I had to cut myself loose from my parachute.

  Chapter Three

  I arched my back. If you don’t do a breakaway right, it throws you into a spin. Once I was level, I pulled on the breakaway handle.

  It took less than a second to lose my main chute.

  I fell toward the ground. The altimeter on my wrist showed there was only 7,000 feet left before splat. At a hundred and twenty miles an hour, that’s not much time.

  I dropped my head and went into the dive position of a delta move.

  Sabella was falling belly first. She had her arms and legs wide to slow herself as much as possible. It’s a one in a million chance to survive a free fall, but she was trying.

  In my dive, I started to gain on her. In a delta, you can scream downward at 200 miles per hour.

  She was a little ahead and to the left. I kicked a leg out to change my direction. I aimed straight at her.

  The wind screamed against my face and goggles.

  Twenty seconds later, I had cut the distance in half. Ten seconds later, I had cut it in half again.

  But the ground was getting larger and larger. I was close enough to see the cross-like shadows of cactus trees. If I didn’t reach Sabella soon…

  Five, four, three, two…

  Her dark hair was flapping behind her like a blanket, almost whipping in my face as I reached her. I had to time it just right. I flung out my hand and grabbed her ankle.

  She screamed.

  “Don’t panic,” I shouted.

  With both hands, I pulled myself up her body. The rushing wind tried to tear us apart.

  The ground was closer and closer.

  Finally, I yanked the second rip cord on my parachute. It was my backup chute. If it didn’t open…

  As I waited those awful few seconds, I wrapped my free hand around Sabella again. We were like one beetle on top of another. Me on top. Her on the bottom. I needed to be holding her with all my strength.

  My chute flopped open and yanked at us.

  I held tight. We were maybe a thousand feet off the ground and still traveling fast. Would there be enough time for the single parachute to slow us down with our double weight?

  Chapter Four

  “Roll left when we hit!” I shouted into Sabella’s helmet. “Hear me? Roll left!”

  She nodded.

  I would roll to the right. The last thing we needed to do was crash into each other on the ground. That could break ribs or arms or legs.

&nb
sp; We both straightened, pointing our feet toward the ground.

  Now we were so close I could see the shadows of small rocks. I also saw something else I didn’t like.

  Cactus. Big cactus. In a big patch. Right below us.

  It if was just me and my parachute, I’d be able to steer by pulling on the parachute cords. But with Sabella in my arms, we had no choice but to drift without changing direction.

  We fell into the cactus.

  Cactus needles tore at my face and hands as I rolled. I stood and looked behind me. My chute was shredded.

  Sabella was just getting to her feet.

  “You all right?” I asked.

  “Except for all the cactus needles in my…” She pointed at the back part of her body. “I won’t be able to sit for a week.”

  Now that it was all over, I began to feel the cactus needles in my own body.

  “Me neither,” I said.

  “It could be worse,” she said. She took off her helmet and shook her hair loose. “I could be a blob of jelly somewhere on the desert floor.”

  She took a step toward me. “You saved my life.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I said. It wasn’t. If I hadn’t been able to reach her in time, I still could have saved myself with my backup chute.

  “I’d hug you,” she said, “but with these needles, it would hurt both of us.”

  “That’s all right,” I said. I pointed behind her at a trail of rising dust. “Besides, it looks like we have company.”

  She frowned at the sight of a big, black car driving at us at a high speed across the flat of the desert.

  “Your Dad?” I asked. Sabella never hung around the flight school. It was a car I’d seen picking her up and dropping her off.

  “No,” she said. Her frown stayed in place. “My body guards.”

  Body guards?

  The car reached us. It skidded sideways as it stopped. Dust choked us.

  The car had smoked glass windows. I couldn’t see inside.

  Two guys ran out, one from each side. Both were big. Both wore dark blue suits.

  “Miss Sabella, you hurt?” the driver asked. He had a pair of binoculars hanging from his neck. “We saw what happened.”

  “I’m standing, aren’t I?” she said. “Thanks to Jeff.”

  The driver turned his face toward me. It was not a pretty face. His nose was bent. He had a scar across his chin.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Jeff Nichols,” I said.

  “You done good,” he told me. “Mr. Scanelli will be pleased.”

  The other guy was just as ugly. He had a cell phone pressed to his head. He walked over to the first guy and gave him the phone.

  “I’ve told the boss what happened. He wants to talk to you.”

  The driver took the phone.

  “Yes, Mr. Scanelli,” he said into the phone. He walked away from us, talking into the telephone. I couldn’t hear the rest of what he was saying. I didn’t want to. All of this was weird.

  The second guy spoke to Sabella. “Would you get into the car now, Miss Scanelli?”

  “If I don’t?”

  “You know your father has told you to listen to us,” the second guy said.

  “Well, you weren’t much good to me in the sky.”

  “Miss Scanelli, if you don’t get inside, I’ll have to carry you inside. Would you like that?”

  Sabella did not say anything. She marched to the car. I heard her say ouch as she sat down. Cactus needles.

  She slammed the door behind her.

  The second guy watched me.

  It was hot. My body hurt in a hundred places from cactus needles. I wanted to get back. It was about a mile back to the airport.

  “Any chance I can catch a ride back with you guys?” I asked.

  The second guy didn’t answer.

  Fine, I told myself. I had two legs. I didn’t like the looks of these guys anyway. Besides, I had to get back to the flight school to write an accident report. It’s not good when parachutes don’t open.

  I started to walk.

  “Stay,” the second guy said.

  Stay? Like I was some sort of dog?

  That made me mad. I kept walking.

  I never knew a guy so big could move so fast. Especially in a suit.

  I heard the crunch of his shoes across the gravel and sand of the desert. Before I could turn to look, he was in front of me. He grabbed my flight jacket and lifted me off the ground.

  Chapter Five

  “Stay,” he said again.

  I’m not small. Up close, though, this guy made me feel like I was a six-year-old kid.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll stay.”

  He set me down. He stared at me. Small beads of sweat popped out on the skin of his face.

  “There’s a fly on your nose,” I said.

  He didn’t smile. I decided this was not a person who liked little jokes. I decided it would be better just to shut my mouth and wait.

  Finally, the driver came over. He snapped the cell phone shut and handed it to the second guy.

  The driver looked at me. “Mr. Scanelli is very pleased you saved his daughter’s life. He wishes to reward you.”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “I don’t need a reward.”

  “Don’t say ‘no’ to Mr. Scanelli. It’s not a good idea.”

  The driver reached inside his suit jacket. He pulled out a long, flat wallet. He opened the wallet and took out some bills.

  “Take this,” he said, handing me the money.

  “I told you already. I don’t need a reward.”

  The second guy grabbed my wrist and raised my arm toward the money. He squeezed hard. It hurt. I got the hint. I took the money.

  “Count it,” the driver said.

  They were hundred dollar bills. I counted twenty of them. That was two thousand dollars.

  “Mr. Scanelli also wants you to do something for him.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “He wants you to keep this to yourself.”

  “I can’t,” I said. “I have to file a report. I work at the flight school. They have to know about the accident. They have to look into it and see what went wrong.”

  The driver stepped right up to me. He looked down his bent nose at me.

  “Don’t you hear good?” he asked. His breath smelled like garlic.

  “Yes,” I said. “But —”

  “Mr. Scanelli always gets what he wants,” the driver said. The big, ugly man patted my face. “Let me put it this way. If you file a report, I break both your knees.”

  He grabbed my chin and forced me to look straight into his flat, black eyes.

  “Look at me, kid. See how serious I am? Do you think I’m joking.”

  “Um, no.”

  “Say it again, kid. Tell me you know I’ll break your legs if anyone hears about what happened up there in the sky.”

  I believed him. Looking in his face, I believed he was the kind of guy who would break a person’s legs. Or do worse stuff. I told him I believed him.

  “Good,” he said. He let go of me.

  The two of them walked back to the car. They drove away.

  It left me with two thousand dollars in my hand. And with legs so weak from fear I could hardly stand.

  If this was the kind of thing that happened when a person helped Mr. Scanelli, I didn’t want to find out what happened if a person made him mad.

  Chapter Six

  I was dreaming about a woodpecker when I woke up the next morning. I realized the knock-knock was not a woodpecker sitting on my head and trying to dig into my brain. The soft knock-knock came from the front door.

  I looked at my alarm clock. It was seven o’clock.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Who would be knocking at my door at this time? The sun was barely up.

  I put on some sweats. I walked to the door. I did not have far to walk. I live in a small apartment. It is all I can afford.

/>   I looked through the peep hole of my front door.

  Sabella Scanelli!

  I opened the door. She stepped inside before I had a chance to ask her to come in. She shut the door behind her.

  “Jeff,” she said. Her long dark hair was tied back. She wore jeans and a leather jacket over a T-shirt. Her face was beautiful.

  “Un-huh,” I said without opening my mouth. I hadn’t even brushed my teeth. I did not want to blast her with morning breath.

  “Sit down,” I said, covering my mouth. I pointed at an old armchair. Except for two kitchen chairs, it was the only chair in my apartment.

  I grabbed blue jeans and a clean T-shirt. I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth and splashed water on my hair. As I combed my hair back, I stared at the mirror to see myself as Sabella would see me.

  My blue eyes looked back at me. They were blue eyes in a face still puffy from sleep. I decided there wasn’t much to be impressed with. I am not ugly, but on the other hand, movie people will never chase me down to ask me to be a star.

  When my ordinary hair was combed neatly above an ordinary face, I threw on my jeans and T-shirt. Then I went back out to my visitor.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “You live here by yourself, don’t you.”

  “Well,” I answered, “as you can see, there’s not much room for anyone else.”

  I lived in a studio apartment. Which is a fancy name for a one-room apartment. My bed pulls down from the wall. When I push it back up — which I did with her watching — my bedroom becomes the living room. There is a small kitchen off to the side. And a small bathroom. Nothing more.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  “Eighteen.”

  “How long have you lived on your own?”

  “This is my first month,” I said. “My parents live on the other side of town. I visit them a lot, but I wanted to show them I could make it on my own.”

  “You’re lucky,” she said. “I wish I could have that chance.”

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Eighteen.”

  “Then who is stopping you?”

  She laughed. It was a sad laugh. “Think of a bird in a cage made of gold. That’s me.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said.

  She stared at me for a few minutes, as if she was deciding something. “You don’t want to know,” she finally said. “Trust me.”

  She stood. “Anyway, last night I called the flight school for your schedule. You work early today.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “So I’m here hoping I can get a ride with you,” she said. “It took me nearly two hours to walk here. But the airport is so far out of town it would take most of the rest of the day to get there.”