giving everything a final once-over, he spoke to his team.
“Ready?”
“You’re clear for takeoff, Captain.”
“Roger that.” Only a few weeks left until the Big Flight. There were plenty of test runs to do in the meantime, some on his own and three with the rest of the Rein Dears. There was a great deal of work involved, but no matter how many years he’d been doing it, he still found it exciting and exhilarating.
Above him the skies were blue, the winter winds calm and blowing with him rather than against him. His heart did a little flip knowing Jack was helping him despite his absence. Before he knew it, his plane’s wheels were leaving the tarmac, and he was rising up toward the clouds. Once he achieved altitude, it was just him, his plane, and the lulling sounds of his engine. The peace that washed over him, the freedom he felt while soaring through the air, was unlike anything else he could think of. Ever since he was a tiny elfling, he’d known he wanted to fly, and his mother, who had raised him all on her lonesome, had encouraged him, whittling the most beautiful airplanes for him out of pine, which they would paint together. Whenever he got the chance, he would visit her and take her for a ride in his plane.
With the weather clear, he practiced a few aerial maneuvers, enjoying some dips and loops, a couple of barrel rolls, before the wheel in his hand gave a harsh shudder. Leveling out his plane, he frowned, wondering what had caused the jolt. Out of the snowy blue, every light on his control panel lit up like a Christmas tree, the needles of his gauges going into wild spins. What the Holly? The entire aircraft trembled, and black smoke started engulfing his precious plane. The worst part was he had no idea what could be causing the failure. Everything had been checked and double-checked. Every piece had been in perfect working order, well-oiled, polished, and maintained to the highest of standards. Every cable had been in its place, every nut and bolt secure.
The engine sputtered noisily, then stalled, and his heart leapt into his throat.
Nothing he tried seemed to work, and as he began losing altitude it was clear he was going to have to jump. With a curse, he pressed down on the clasp of his seatbelt’s buckle. Nothing happened. Crabapples. He tried again, this time getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was horribly wrong. He pressed against the buckle with all his strength, and when it didn’t budge, he thought of climbing out through the straps, except when he tried to move, he was tightly secured, as if the belt had somehow tightened around him, pulling his body back into his seat. There was no budging.
He frantically fought against the harness, and when nothing came of it, he searched around in the hopes of finding something sharp he could use to cut his way through one of the heavy straps, but there was nothing. The way he was falling, he wouldn’t have time to cut himself free even if he did have something, which he didn’t.
“Oh Gods.” How could this be happening?
“Rudy?” Tim’s panicked voice came over the radio. “Rudy, what’s wrong?”
“The plane…. It’s dead, completely dead. I’m falling.”
“You need to jump.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” Noel’s firm voice came over, his own panic evident in his gruff tone. “For Kringle’s sake, get out of there!”
“I can’t. My harness is stuck.” He did his best to remain calm and tried to open his door. Not that he knew what he would do once it was open, but he had to hope whatever was going on wasn’t affecting the whole plane. When the door remained firmly bolted shut, his fears were confirmed. This was no ordinary malfunction. This was unlike anything he had faced before.
“Rudy!”
He’d done the drills, run scores of variables, prepared himself for every possible outcome should his plane malfunction, but nothing could have prepared him for whatever
“Ready?”
“You’re clear for takeoff, Captain.”
“Roger that.” Only a few weeks left until the Big Flight. There were plenty of test runs to do in the meantime, some on his own and three with the rest of the Rein Dears. There was a great deal of work involved, but no matter how many years he’d been doing it, he still found it exciting and exhilarating.
Above him the skies were blue, the winter winds calm and blowing with him rather than against him. His heart did a little flip knowing Jack was helping him despite his absence. Before he knew it, his plane’s wheels were leaving the tarmac, and he was rising up toward the clouds. Once he achieved altitude, it was just him, his plane, and the lulling sounds of his engine. The peace that washed over him, the freedom he felt while soaring through the air, was unlike anything else he could think of. Ever since he was a tiny elfling, he’d known he wanted to fly, and his mother, who had raised him all on her lonesome, had encouraged him, whittling the most beautiful airplanes for him out of pine, which they would paint together. Whenever he got the chance, he would visit her and take her for a ride in his plane.
With the weather clear, he practiced a few aerial maneuvers, enjoying some dips and loops, a couple of barrel rolls, before the wheel in his hand gave a harsh shudder. Leveling out his plane, he frowned, wondering what had caused the jolt. Out of the snowy blue, every light on his control panel lit up like a Christmas tree, the needles of his gauges going into wild spins. What the Holly? The entire aircraft trembled, and black smoke started engulfing his precious plane. The worst part was he had no idea what could be causing the failure. Everything had been checked and double-checked. Every piece had been in perfect working order, well-oiled, polished, and maintained to the highest of standards. Every cable had been in its place, every nut and bolt secure.
The engine sputtered noisily, then stalled, and his heart leapt into his throat.
Nothing he tried seemed to work, and as he began losing altitude it was clear he was going to have to jump. With a curse, he pressed down on the clasp of his seatbelt’s buckle. Nothing happened. Crabapples. He tried again, this time getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was horribly wrong. He pressed against the buckle with all his strength, and when it didn’t budge, he thought of climbing out through the straps, except when he tried to move, he was tightly secured, as if the belt had somehow tightened around him, pulling his body back into his seat. There was no budging.
He frantically fought against the harness, and when nothing came of it, he searched around in the hopes of finding something sharp he could use to cut his way through one of the heavy straps, but there was nothing. The way he was falling, he wouldn’t have time to cut himself free even if he did have something, which he didn’t.
“Oh Gods.” How could this be happening?
“Rudy?” Tim’s panicked voice came over the radio. “Rudy, what’s wrong?”
“The plane…. It’s dead, completely dead. I’m falling.”
“You need to jump.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” Noel’s firm voice came over, his own panic evident in his gruff tone. “For Kringle’s sake, get out of there!”
“I can’t. My harness is stuck.” He did his best to remain calm and tried to open his door. Not that he knew what he would do once it was open, but he had to hope whatever was going on wasn’t affecting the whole plane. When the door remained firmly bolted shut, his fears were confirmed. This was no ordinary malfunction. This was unlike anything he had faced before.
“Rudy!”
He’d done the drills, run scores of variables, prepared himself for every possible outcome should his plane malfunction, but nothing could have prepared him for whatever
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