You are strong. You are fearless. You can do this.

“I can’t do this,” Rebecca Armstrong said, closing her eyes and shaking her head, short brown curls brushing her cheeks. She hummed in an attempt to ignore the rumble at her feet. It didn’t work.

“Sure you can. I’ll be right there with you,” a man shouted, his voice rising over the steady drone of an engine.

Rebecca forced her eyes open. A man with a charming smile sat beside her. He was about her age, or close enough that it didn’t matter, and had enough charisma to convince an introvert to be an extrovert. Or at least it seemed that way 10,000 feet closer to the ground. Now, Rebecca couldn’t remember his name. Dan? Dwayne? Darryl?

Lined up behind him were the other thrill seekers, sitting in pull down chairs along the plane cabin’s wall. Toward the back were an elderly couple, holding hands with their wedding rings entwined. They smiled encouragingly when her gaze fell on them, and gave a thumbs up in unison. Beside them, closer to Rebecca, sat a man that looked like a Marine: close cropped hair, clean and prominent jaw-line, expressionless features. He stared blankly ahead, adjusting the parachute strapped to his back and flexing muscled shoulders. Those three were the solo jumpers—the first off the plane. It left only a man in his late teens, judging by his failed attempt at facial hair and lingering bloom of acne, as the other tandem jumper. The way he looked at the instructor sitting beside him, a woman with a blonde ponytail—Clara—suggested he had an ulterior motive to being on the plane. Rebecca and Dave—yes, Dave!—sat at the end, slated as the last to leave.

“I’m not sure I can. I mean, I thought I could but, now that we’re up here, it…” She wrung her hands as the words spilled out of her mouth. Her eyes drifting to the straps and buckles on her harness. Are they tight enough?

“It’s OK, this happens,” Dave said. “It’s just nerves. Once that door opens, it’s gonna be…well, you have to experience it.” He pointed to a door on the opposite side of the cabin. Experience it.

This was all Nancy’s fault. You’re boring, Rebecca. You need to get out there and experience something new. You’re young…ish. Meet some guy and have some fun!

It was fun when she was on the ground, standing in Dave’s shadow, his chiseled jaw highlighted by the sun, wearing a shirt that was a size too small but emphasized his pecs and biceps. Now, sitting in the crumpled tin can of the airplane, he looked more like a dork: safety goggles strapped to his head, black jumpsuit zippered to his chin, buckles and clips poking out of him like a straight-jacket.

“I…I don’t want to do this anymore,” Rebecca decided.

“We’re not going to force you, but…” It was as if he knew exactly when they reached altitude and planned his response accordingly. A bang issued through the cockpit, followed by a rush of air that made Rebecca’s ears pop. Clara now stood by a hole in the side of the plane, showing endless blue sky.

It had the opposite effect Dave intended. You can’t jump out that!

Rebecca wanted to bury her head in her knees until the plane returned safely to earth, but settled for staring at the floor instead. The others shuffled in nervous excitement around her.

“OK everybody, listen up,” Clara started. Dave tapped Rebecca on the shoulder, directing her attention to Clara. “We’ve got some mild headwinds out there. Nothing to worry about, just keep in formation. We are approaching the drop window. Grace and Paul,”—she nodded at the elderly couple—“you’ll be up first, followed by Brad,”—that was the Marine—“and then Mark.” She smiled at the young man and then turned to Rebecca. “You’ll be last.”

But I’m not going!

“Good. Everyone have a safe jump and see you on the ground,” Clara finished. Everyone clapped except Rebecca.

“I’ve made up my mind,” Rebecca said.

“It’s time to buckle up!” Dave said, not hearing her as he held up one of the buckles on the front of his suit.

“I’m not doing this!” she shouted, causing him to recoil and drawing the attention of the others. 

Grace stepped toward Rebecca. “It’s ok dear, everyone is scared the first time. You know what I did—”

“—That’s enough Grace, we got this. You two need to go,” Clara interrupted, waving Grace back to her position near the open door.

“Just do what you feel is right,” Grace finished, as she shuffled to join her husband. They kept their hands intertwined as they jumped. Paul let out a high pitched squeal that was eaten by the wind.

“See, it’s not that hard,” Dave said, close enough for his hot breath to dance along the nape of her neck.

Isn’t a near death experience supposed to act like an aphrodisiac? She shuffled away from him.

“I’m not worried about jumping out of the plane. It’s what happens after,” she explained. His mouth curved in that charming smile, as if he had dealt with plenty of people like her and they always changed their mind. Except she wasn’t going to do that.

“OK, you’re next, Brad,” Clara ordered.

Brad stalked toward the door with long, purposeful strides and straight into the air, disappearing into oblivion.

“Window’s closing, we’re gonna go,” Clara said, beckoning Mark over to connect the harnesses. Mark had a goofy grin on his face as he leaned into her.

“Last chance,” Dave offered, holding up his clips again.

Rebecca remained seated, staring out the open door as Clara and Mark shuffled into view. As they neared the door, the plane shuddered, dipping suddenly before rocketing back up. For a moment, Rebecca felt weightless as her body lifted from the seat, then she was smashed back into it, jarring her back and making her teeth rattle.

She was lucky.

Clara and Mark were hoisted in the air, almost out the door, but then smashed into the floor instead. Clara banged her head on the steel and lay unmoving as Mark writhed on the ground, his leg trapped beneath her at an awkward angle. He may have been screaming but the rush of wind drowned it out.

“Stay here!” Dave, who managed to grab onto the safety netting above their seats, ordered. He put a firm hand on her shoulder, attempted, but failed, at his reassuring smile, and then turned to an unconscious Clara.

He didn’t get the chance to help.

The plane rocked again, not as much, but enough to bounce the pair in the air and out the open door.

“No!” the word escaped Rebecca’s lips as the two vanished into the infinite blue.

“Clara!” Dave shouted, running out the door without glancing back.

He left! Rebecca scanned the empty cabin as if someone were hiding in the corner. The stillness brought about a terrifying realization: there were no vibrations in her feet. The engines had stopped. The door to the cockpit banged against the wall with the pilot standing in the opening, his face ashen, more fear in his eyes than hers.

“What are you still doing here?” he asked.

“What’s going on? The engines stopped!” she cried. “Who’s driving this?”

The pilot’s shoulders sagged and his lip quivered. This wasn’t good. 

“It…it….came out of nowhere,” the pilot mumbled, and then snapped out of it as he stalked to the opposite side of the cabin and pulled a pair of parachutes off the wall.

“What are you doing?” Rebecca pushed herself up on unsteady feet.

“We need to get off this plane,” the pilot said, stalking back to her, holding out one parachute while he swung the other over his shoulders. She stared at it like it was a foreign object.

“I haven’t jumped before,” she was surprised those were the first words out of her mouth and quickly remedied that situation. “Why don’t you land the plane!”

“See that?” the pilot said, yanking her toward the open door.

Butterflies danced in her stomach with each step. The horizon was an orange and red ball of fury. “That was the runway. It’s gone. We’re not landing this thing and you don’t want to be here when it hits the ground.”

The door to the cockpit rattled as the plane dipped again. As it opened, Rebecca gazed out the front window. At first, she didn’t know what she was seeing. It was a huge chunk of metal, circular aside from two large, cylindrical thrusters jutting out on opposite sides. It was descending ahead of them, leaving a trail of smoke in the air. As she watched, another ship? appeared even closer, sending the plane on another dip.

She turned back to the pilot once the erratic movement eased. “What are those?”

“How am I supposed to know?” The pilot’s voice cracked. “They knocked out the electronics and the engines. The plane’s coasting. You gotta put this on, lady. I’m jumping with or without you.”

Guess that settles it, then.

Rebecca snatched the parachute, removing her old harness and slipping her arms through the straps of the new one. She tightened it, her hands shaking, and glanced out the cockpit windows again. Those ships are alien. The idea was mad.

“Hurry up, lady,” the pilot urged.

“But I don’t know what to do!” Rebecca cried.

“You’ll have to learn fast. When you jump you’re gonna find it hard to breathe. That’s just in your head. Screaming will get you going if it comes to it. When you finally relax, you’re gonna think it’s the best thing in the world. You’re free falling, right? Don’t look at those things,” he pointed to the machines hanging in the sky. “Focus on the ground. Our jump window was about a hundred clicks that way,”—he pointed behind them— “but no sense in worrying now. We’re over trees. Try to find a bare spot and don’t get hooked in the branches. OK?”

OK? Not OK!

“Open your parachute at 5,000 feet,” he advised, pointing at the altimeter strapped to her wrist. He didn’t wait for her reply. He jumped.

“But—!” she cried, staring at the open door as if he would jump back in. Everyone’s leaving me! The plane shuddered and she planted a palm against the side to steady herself. Shit, shit!

She inched closer to the door as the pilot became an ant below her.  Jump. Jump!

Seconds passed. Her feet wouldn’t move. It was as if they were planted in cement, rooted on a dying plane. Just do it! Jump!

She closed her eyes, each passing second magnifying the ball of dread in her stomach. Her hands clammed up. Sweat popped out on her forehead. She sucked in a lungful of air. You can do this.

And jumped.

Air buffeted her, rushing over her arms and legs like a high-powered fan blowing her upward instead of gravity dragging her down. The sensation created a giddy euphoria even as she kept her eyes closed. Then it felt different. Odd. A tugging on her side, triggering an innate alarm. She opened her eyes to see the world revolving around her. No!

That wasn’t supposed to happen. The instructional video she had to sit through said there would be a pilot parachute to stabilize her during her free fall. Not that she had to worry about that while diving tandem. She swivelled her head up, wind whistling through creases in her shirt. There was nothing above her. She reached behind her, fighting the wind as it pushed her arm up, thanking the yoga classes she attended every Tuesday for the added flexibility. All the while her spin increased, her vision tunnelling. Then she grasped the fabric and dislodged it; sending it up behind her. The spin slowed. 

As the world came into focus again, the limitless sky around her should have made her feel free, but instead she realized the immense scope of the invasion. Dozens of ships littered the sky, concentrating above the city to the east. Turning the concrete and glass below to rubble.

The altimeter on her wrist beeped: 7500 feet. She tore her eyes away from the devastation on the horizon to a more tangible objective. The green of treetops spread outward below her. A pop of colour bloomed on her right as the pilot released his main parachute. How did he end up way the hell over there? Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she angled toward the pilot, spotting an open clearing amidst the trees. A farmer’s field among the brush, it looked like. 

Don’t look around you and this isn’t that bad.

A smile crept on her face until something exploded above her. She tilted her head up to see a fiery ball erupt from the side of one of the alien ships. It was their plane. A blast of heat from the shockwave sent her further off course. Shit!

She was now at 5500 feet. Close enough. She pulled her parachute release and the material sprung out of her backpack, billowing above her head. Her body jerked as the mass of fabric slowed her. The change in pace was so drastic she lost sight of the clearing. When she found it again, she was close enough to see it wasn’t a clearing at all, but marshland, riddled with ponds and streams. Getting wet is better than burning in the plane. She gripped the handles on either side of the parachute to guide herself down, yanking too hard at first. The harness cinched at her waist and tightened around her chest, squeezing the breath out of her body until she released the handles.

The ground rose to meet her, faster than she expected. She tried to slow herself by pulling on the handles again, but it no longer had the same effect. A green and brown mass of earth and water approached. She lifted her legs to make herself a ball as she barrelled down. When she landed she was a bundle of strings and fabric and water and mud. She rolled and screamed, sucking in water and coughing it back out. Her right arm caught something, bent the wrong way, wrenched free. Her momentum finally slowed, with the parachute tangled around her. Her right shoulder ached and she could barely move her legs. But she was alive.

You made it.

She untangled herself, wincing against the sharp pain in her arm, and would have kissed the ground if she weren’t knee deep in water. Instead, she started to cry. She wondered if Dave saved Clara in time, or if the others landed safely. Not that any of that really mattered anymore. She just knew that if she ever got back home, she’d have a nice long conversation with Nancy about the merits of trying new things.