Chapter 884

Beside her, Brenna was a statue of pure terror. She was trembling violently, a fine, uncontrollable shudder that shook her entire body. Her lips were white, and her good hand was clamped around Caroline’s arm in a death grip.

Caroline covered Brenna’s hand with her own, offering a silent, steady pressure. She projected a calm she didn’t feel, her own heart a frantic hammer against her ribs.

Instructor Sharpe paced the length of the cargo bay, her boots clanging on the metal floor. Her voice, filtered through the helmet comms, was a sharp, metallic rasp in their ears. “This is not a game! Every action you take from this point forward has consequences. Do it right, you live. Do it wrong, you die. It’s that simple!”

A crackle over the internal comms, and the pilot’s voice, calm and detached, filled the space. “Approaching jump altitude. Twenty-six thousand feet.”

The temperature inside the cabin plummeted. The thin, high-altitude air was frigid. On command, they all donned their oxygen masks. A blast of cold, dry oxygen filled Caroline’s lungs, making her head swim for a moment.

With a deep, hydraulic groan, the massive rear ramp of the transport began to lower.

It opened onto a vision of pure, terrifying emptiness. A black, star-dusted void hanging over a roiling sea of clouds. A vicious, screaming wind tore into the cabin, sucking the warmth and air out in a single, violent gasp.

Instructor Sharpe, now the jumpmaster, stood at the edge of the ramp, a silhouette against the abyss. She began the final sequence of hand signals.

“Stand up!” she roared, her voice barely audible over the wind.

They rose as one, the weight of their gear making the movement clumsy and difficult.

“Hook up!”

They attached their static lines to the anchor cable running the length of the cabin. Brenna moved like a robot, her eyes squeezed shut.

Sharpe moved down the line, her hands slapping each recruit’s pack and helmet in a final, brutal check. When she reached Caroline, she paused for a fraction of a second. Her eyes met Caroline’s over the edge of the oxygen mask. Caroline’s gaze was steady, resolute.

Sharpe said nothing. She just slapped her gear hard. “Ready!”

The green light flashed on. A deafeningly loud buzzer blared through the cabin.

“Go! Go! Go!” Sharpe screamed.

One after another, the dark figures in front of her shuffled to the edge and vanished into the night.

Brenna went with a choked cry.

Caroline took a single, deep breath. She stepped to the edge and launched herself into nothing.

The sensation of falling was instantaneous and absolute. The world dissolved into the deafening roar of the wind and the dizzying feeling of weightlessness. She arched her body, stabilizing her position, a human arrow aimed at the heart of the earth.

She watched the altimeter on her wrist, the numbers unwinding at a terrifying speed.

20,000 feet.

15,000.

10,000.

At the designated opening altitude, she reached down and pulled the ripcord for her main canopy.

She felt the familiar, reassuring tug of the pilot chute deploying, the drag beginning to pull the main pack open.

Then came a sound.