“Two minutes till drop,” the voice yells over the roar of the plane as we all check our weapons and backpacks. The tension in the small, cramped compartment mounts as explosions and the rattle of guns outside dance all around us.
“One minute till drop,” the pilot hollers again from the front of the plane as it starts to shake from all the antiaircraft bullets suddenly filling our air space.
“Thirty seconds till drop.” Our troop carrier jolts us really badly now, trying to throw us around like ragdolls. And… then a guy gets hit! The bullet punching through his body armor is like sticking a knife through butter. He goes down, sitting on one of the benches welded to the side of the plane. Then his blood is blossoming all over the gray seats, the flickering red lights, and the gunmetal walls of the plane. The soldier’s death makes me grit my teeth and clench my fists.
“Drop zone reached,” the pilot shouts. Suddenly the red light next to the drop door at the front of the plane turns green, illuminating us in a harsh color. The drop door at the right of the plane hisses open and we are all unsuccessfully pulled towards it as the pressure in the cabin immediately drops.
“Go, go, ACH!” The sergeant gasps, cut off mid speech by a bullet snapping off his arm. The first soldier jumps out as the intercom squawks one last time, “We’re going…” The last words are cut off as one of our engines explodes to our right and an ear splitting shriek of metal tearing rents a hole in the left side of the plane where the wing used to be.
“Everyone MOVE!” I scream over the whistling of the wind. I take a step, encouraging the others to make their escape from the dying plane. Then everybody is piling towards the drop door and the giant gaping rent, so I have to rush forward, and…
WHOOSH! I hear the high whine of engines, anti aircraft guns and explosions. The sky above me darkens with smoke and shrapnel as my drop ship explodes. The wind bites and slaps my face and make my goggle protected eyes water as I fall into terminal velocity. I pull the release cord tied down by a flimsy piece of cloth on my shoulder straps and hope my pack doesn’t jam. I immediately snap back as my parachute flutters out, catches the wind and opens with a loud crack. The velocity of my fall instantly decelerates, but with all of the bullets ripping through the air, my large white parachute is easily torn up.
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“OH GOD!” I curse wordlessly. The velocity of my fall accelerates again and I try desperately to ready myself for impact with Mother Earth while pulling my thompson machine gun out and going through the objective in my mind. “Oooh No!” replaces all of my thoughts as houses with a dark slanted roofs loom up from the dark depths below me. I pull my release pin and the my parachute flies off behind me, allowing me to roughly slide onto the roof; however, instead of halting, the force of my collision makes me tumble off of the side of the slate roof and towards a dark leafy tree.
“Oof!” my breath escapes me as I slam into the deceptively soft leaves. My eyes reflexively close as I’m driven towards the center of the tree by my fall; the breaking branches tear my clothes and snatch my gun away from me. My backpack straps strain and the tree groans as I try to pull myself into a fetal position. Wham! I finally crash to a stop as I hit the thickest of the tree’s branches.
I lay in my makeshift cradle for a few seconds, stunned and getting the sweet air back into my empty lungs. A foreign voice calls out distantly; it calls out again and another answers, this time closer. My training forces me to move. I reach for my pistol with my right arm, my dominant arm. I nearly cry out in pain as a throbbing fills my head, chasing away all my survival instincts. Using my left arm, I awkwardly pull out my pistol. I finally open my eyes, stretch out my legs, and try to sit up. “Not again,” rings through my head as the branches under my butt shift and I am sent crashing to the hard cold ground below. Nearly blacking out from the pain lancing through my right arm, I roll my head slightly to the right and see the soldier who must’ve been calling out earlier stride into sight and look down on me . “Huh. A grey helmet and crisp uniform.” I think fuzzily. The soldier who might’ve answered his call then steps into view on my left, also looking down on me. With one swift, practiced movement, the soldier on my right pulls his shiny new rifle up, looking down the sight. A bright flash appears, chasing away the darkness and blinding me.