Chapter 6

   The air whipped past my face as I plummeted towards the ground in a dive. I struggled around, trying to find the emergency cord. I found it and yanked it, and the wings locked in their full open position. Less than 100 feet above the treetops, I stopped falling and started to glide, but I was still moving far to fast to try and land; my legs could break on impact, and since I was going to need to walk, that was unacceptable. I began to circle, both to burn off speed and to search for a suitable landing zone. I spotted, just to the West, one of the old logging roads that ran through the forest. It’d have to do, especially because my airspeed was now getting dangerously low; these wings weren’t designed for prolonged gliding. Just as I was about to touch down, the damaged wing finally came apart with a loud sound ripping canvas. I ended up pitching to the left and landing on my kneepads, and skidded to a halt. Completely exhausted, I passed out, falling flat on my face.

    I awoke what must not have been long after; though the sun had gone down, the moon was not yet high in the sky. I pushed myself up and rolled into a sitting position, groaning with the effort - everything hurt. My muscles felt raw, my joints ached a dull, grinding pain. My left knee felt swollen, and though a quick test told me I wouldn’t be running anytime soon, I could still walk. I pulled off my kneepad and immediately felt my knee push out, freed from it’s restraint. Definitely swollen. I dug through my personal satchel and pulled out a small paper packet, tore it open, and poured the contents on my tongue. The stuff was supposed to be some kind of pain relief, but after ten minutes, it really only took the edge off. I considered using another packet, but decided it would be best to save it. I managed to slowly get to my feet, holding in a scream; my knee hurt terribly to bend. I knew I needed to get moving before the swelling locked up my leg completely, and seeing how well the moon lit the road ahead of me, I started limping North.

    I checked my compass; I’d come to a fork in the road. I knew the aerodrome to be Northwest of my position, so I took the left road. I was unsure of how far I had come and how far I had to go; The mountain loomed in the not-quite distance, but it was impossible to tell it’s proximity. It might have been a mile, it might have been ten. I was hoping for the former, because I didn’t feel my knee could take much more abuse. I had used another packet just before I came to the fork, but even that didn’t help much. I would need to stop and rest soon if I didn’t make it to my destination, but that wouldn’t do either. I had to get back as soon as possible, or risk getting left behind.

    A few minutes later I was at gunpoint.