Game of Death by David Hosp Read Free Book Online

move over to the open door. He looks at me. Hanging this close to the door, every word has to be screamed.
‘You go first!’ he hollers. ‘Yvette will follow three seconds later, and I’ll be right behind her. I’ll catch up to her, and then we’ll make it down to you! We
have around forty seconds total before we have to pull the ’chutes, got it?’ My head nods, but I don’t know whether it’s an acknowledgment of agreement or a terrified spasm.
‘Okay!’ He turns me toward the door and I hold on to the sides. The wind shear is so strong I can barely breathe. Our instructor yells from behind, ‘One! Two! Three!’
    I hold my breath and jump.
    There is no way to adequately express what it feels like the first time you step out of an airplane. Imagine that you’re sucking on a giant fire hose, and out of that hose is shot all of
the most intense emotions you can comprehend: terror, exhilaration, regret, hope, joy. It is literally like drowning. It’s hard to breathe; it’s hard to think; it’s hard to
comprehend what’s happening. I relax my legs and put my arms out to stabilize my body position against the fall, as I was taught in a morning’s worth of lessons. And all the while the
curve of the Earth flattens more and more as the ground rushes toward me with unrelenting speed. I assume I’m screaming, but it’s hard to know because the roar of my body rushing
through the atmosphere is so loud. My hand goes to my ripcord, just to make sure I can find it.
    I feel a tug at my arm, and it freaks me out. I know that our instructor told me he and Yvette would catch up with me, but it just seems so incongruous for them to be here, now, as I hurtle
toward the world. It feels like I should at least be left alone in my own little hell. But I look over and they are both there, smiling brightly and giving me the thumbs up. I give them my best
Fonzie back, though it feels insincere. I tap my wrist and pantomime pulling the ’chute, but they both shake their heads, still smiling as though they have a secret they haven’t shared
with me yet.
    ‘When?’ I scream.
    Yvette reaches out and takes my arm and pulls my falling body toward hers until our heads are right next to each other. ‘Relax!’ she calls to me. ‘Enjoy the ride!’
    A horrible thought occurs to me. ‘We’re not wearing parachutes, are we?’
    Her smile remains.
    ‘Oh God!’ I scream. I start pulling desperately at the ripcord, but nothing happens. I start to hyperventilate. ‘No! Oh, God, no!’ I start to struggle against the fall,
and my body loses its stability, tumbling and rolling, but Yvette and the instructor grab me and settle my position again. I still can’t breathe and I close my eyes. Yvette puts a hand on my
back. ‘Look at me,’ she calls. I open my eyes and look at her. ‘There’s nothing you can do!’ she yells. ‘It’s out of your hands. Just enjoy the
fall!’ She nods below us at the ground coming up.
    It is, I must admit, a beautiful scene. We took off from an airfield fifteen miles outside Boston, and below me the landscape is laid out like a suburban jigsaw. From my fall, I can see how it
all fits together. I’ve never seen it from this angle. There is an intimacy with the land, looking at it from this vantage point, seeing it the way it once was in its natural state, and the
way that the inhabitants have molded it, sculpted it to their needs. That intimacy is intensified by the fact that it is still rushing toward me, intent on crushing me.
    That’s when it happens. I become calm. I see what is happening for all that it is, and nothing more. As we get closer to the ground it feels as though we are speeding up, but I’m
okay with that now. My phobia, it seems, is gone.
    ‘You tricked me!’ I yell to Yvette.
    ‘You needed to be tricked!’ she yells back.
    ‘You’re a terrible person, but I owe you one!’
    ‘I’m collecting!’
    ‘I’ll call Killkenny tomorrow,’ I scream. I see her nod