Victor stood on the roof of the truck, hands out, guiding as much smog as he could into a ball at the front of it. It felt like pulling mud out of a hole since he could only gather so much, and without someone constantly having their foot on the pedal, he was limited in how much he could drag out. Time was also not on his side. The airplane had begun to leave the ground and with no one behind the steering wheel, the truck had begun to list a little bit to the left.

When he felt like he had enough pressure and smog, Victor ran across the roof and jumped. As his feet touched the smog ball, Victor pushed and released off the gathered energy and was catapulted into the air.

His arc propelled him well above the plane which, in Victor’s opinion, was too high to begin with. As he fell towards the plane his stomach lurched and his insides tried to relocate themselves to the top of his body. It was this feeling that made him hate roller coasters.

The entire flight only lasted a few minutes and at the end of it he managed to make it onto the wing with a thud that pierced the sound of the engine. His stomach had hit squarely onto the wing and his knees buckled against the side as they hit. Lights danced in Victor’s vision and it was only out of reflex that he was able to grab onto the wing before being cast off. As the plane ascended higher, he held on, feeling like one of those cans being dragged by a car that read, “Just Married.”

The plane evened out, allowing Victor to pull himself farther onto the wing. He swung and maneuvered his body so that he was hugging the wing and facing the plane. Putting out his hands as far as he could, which was only a couple inches, he pulled himself slowly to the fuselage. The next step was to release his hold on the wing and climb up. Luckily, the plane had handholds right above the wing. Just as he reached out to grab the nearest one there was a metallic screeching sound at the top of the plane and Jensa’s head popped out.

When she spotted Victor her eyes went wide. “Holy shit. Gene really is wasting you.” Jensa ducked back down for a second and resurfaced with a large carabiner hook which was attached to a harness strap. She locked it into a ring right next to the hold and climbed out.

Staying low, Jensa walked to the back of the plane. Her balance was like that of a tight rope walker. There was a small bout of turbulence. As the plane shook, Victor had to tighten his already iron hold so he wasn't fling off, but she didn't even wobble. She made it to the back where the engines were blowing out smog and stuck her head in the cloud. After a few seconds she stood up straight and sighed.

"That's heavenly." She eyed Victor and grinned. "Ready?"

Jenna gathered some of the smog into a tightly wound ball. She did it much more quickly than Victor could manage. She lobbed the ball towards him and only missed by a few inches. The ball hit the plane with a dull impact and as it dissipated, left a dent in the hull. Another ball rocketed towards him. He pulled his head as far as he could while continuing to hang on, and the ball grazed his cheek. It felt like having sand paper lightly dragged across his skin.

Jensa laughed. She didn’t immediately throw another smog ball. Instead she kept pumping more into it, growing it larger. She held the ball out in her palm like a basketball player getting ready to throw a trick shot.

Victor forced himself to let go of one side of the wing. He swung his arm and managed to grab the nearest hand hold. Moving his legs to the center of the wing, he placed the toes of his shoes down and braced himself as he grabbed for the hand hold with his other hand. He slipped and barely managed to grab a hold of it.

“Careful now. We don’t want you falling off, do we?” The ball in Jensa’s hand had grown to the size of a softball.

Victor grabbed onto the other hand holds and pulled himself up to the top of the plane. He was right on top of where Jensa had come out of. The lid had been closed back. He looked down at the carabiner clip and back to her.

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“You should’ve thrown that earlier.” Victor breathed.

Jensa laughed. “You won’t do it. You’re not a killer.”

Victor bent down and grabbed it. Barely squeezing it like someone about to squeeze a trigger, he looked up and gave Jensa his best threatening look. There was no panic on her face. She only shrugged. Victor squeezed, but the clip didn’t budge. He tried again but it stayed clipped.

“Dammit.” Victor said.

“Tools of the trade.” Jensa said. The ball had now grown to the size of a dodgeball. “Maybe if you survive, I’ll give you the number to my guy.” She threw the ball.

Victor tried to preempt the throw by diving low and grabbing onto the harness rope for balance, but the ball changed direction in mid-air, doubled back on itself, went under Victor and hit him squarely in the stomach. The grunt that came out of his mouth was almost as loud as the engine. The impact forced him back and when he landed he began sliding down the airplane towards the propeller. A dent right above the windshield of the plane caught Victor and prevented him from sliding off.

After managing to gather some air into his lungs, Victor forced himself forward and grabbed onto the nearest handhold to steady himself. He climbed to his feet in a very low crouch, keeping his hand on the hold.

Jensa threw another smog ball. This time Victor jumped towards it face first. Like a dolphin going for a fish, he opened his mouth and bit into the smog. The ball almost forced itself through his mouth and nose and into his lungs. There was a sharp stabbing pain in his chest, but it was quickly drowned out by the energy and wakefulness that smoggers got. He managed to land back into a low crouch and grabbed a hold of the harness rope. Jensa stared at Victor with wide eyes. He took advantage of the momentary distraction and jumped at her. She recovered and intercepted Victor, pinning him to the plane.

“You,” Jensa got close to his face. “are a very fascinating man.”

“You’re not going to kiss me are you?” Victor grunted.

Jensa laughed and then glanced towards the edge of the plane. “I’m going to throw you off now. Take it as a compliment when I say, I hope you survive. I would love another dance with you.” She kissed the tips of her fingers and placed them on Victor’s forehead. She then grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him up.

With no more ceremony, Jensa threw Victor backwards over her shoulder. As she released, Victor grabbed at the harness and hooked his fingers into the strap. With his momentum, he managed to drag Jensa backwards. She screamed in surprise and fell backwards with the pull. Her head collided with the metal, silencing her scream. There was a loud pop from one of Victor’s joints as he landed on his side.

It only took a couple seconds before both of them began sliding towards the back of the plane. As they did, Victor tried to grab onto anything to slow himself down, but his hand was tangled in the harness. Jensa’s body fell off taking him with her. At the last second he tried to grab onto the edge, but he was pulled off and there was a sharp pain as a piece of jagged metal dragged itself through his skin.

There was a moment of weightlessness followed by the sharp tug of the rope stopping them. The arm that was holding onto the harness popped and Victor felt a burning sensation. After swinging wildly for a few moments, Victor looked up. Being several feet under the airplane, there was no way he was going to be able to climb back up. The rope was too thin and had already begun fraying in the middle due to the weight of both bodies.

That meant there was only one option left. Looking down, Victor saw that they were above a massive lake. The crystal blue water reflected the sun almost blinding him. He had heard that falling into water was akin to slamming into the ground. The only possible way to survive was to break the water’s surface. Looking back up to the plane’s engine, which was still blasting out smog. Reaching his hand up he hoped he was close enough.

Ignoring the pain in his arms and body, Victor began to guide the smog into a ball right above them. In the past, Piper had asked why her dad could only make smog balls and not other shapes. Truth was that it was easier for smoggers to control and any other shapes would fade out before fulfilling their intended purpose.

Victor strained as he gathered more smog into his ball. The distance from the engine made it feel like he was trying to reach something from the top shelf at a store and the swinging rope didn’t help much. Having no idea how much he would need, Victor hoped that the rope would hold for at least another minute. Unfortunately, he only got about one tenth of that. The rope snapped, and Victor almost let the ball dissipate.