Worth Saving(68)

I open the door and climb into the pilot seat, while the six paratroopers climb in the back. As I settle in, I can hear them behind me, strapping themselves in and making small talk as they get their gear in place. I don’t have a co-pilot today because this is a simple training mission, and I don’t need one. It’ll just be a quick up and down.

I click in my harness and don the bulky headset, and I immediately hear a voice in my ears as I start the engines and propellers.

“Whiskey Sierra, this is Delta One. How do you copy?”

I take a deep breath in and then push the air out. I just need to settle my heart down because it’s starting to beat a lot faster than usual.

“Whiskey Sierra, Whiskey Sierra, this is Delta One. How’s copy?”

I clear my throat and then speak into the microphone. “Uhh, that’s a good copy, Delta One. Lima Charlie.” My voice doesn’t sound normal. Maybe it’s because I have the headphones on, but it sounds weaker. It’s ragged and strained.

“Roger that. Alright, Whiskey Sierra, you are cleared for takeoff. Please ascend to twelve hundred feet about the drop zone. Radio back once you’ve reached jump altitude.”

“Copy that, Delta One. Headed to the drop zone.” I wrap my hands around the controls for the first time, and before I pull up, I have to take another deep breath. This time, I close my eyes and count to five. By the time I’ve reached five, I feel better. Not great, but good enough to pull the stick back and lift the chopper off the ground.

To my pleasant surprise, I’m unfazed by the sound of the wind whisking around us, and I even feel soothed by the slight bumpiness as we take off and move towards the drop zone. Slowly but surely, my heart rate goes back down to normal, and I feel at ease. I feel like my old self again. I’m comfortable behind the controls, and I’m suddenly glad I’m back at work and doing the thing I once loved. It feels good, and I can’t wait to tell Major Nelson I came back, and didn’t have any issues with doing my job.

I can hear the chatter of the guys behind me. They aren’t talking to me, but I’m not surprised. I’m Air Force, they’re Army, and there’s always going to be at least a little bit of division between the branches, especially during peace time. We can put all that shit aside once we’re in combat and we need to focus in and kick the shit out of the enemy, but when we’re at home, we have a friendly rivalry, and that’s okay.

As I carry us through the sky, I move towards the drop zone, which is an empty field right off the flight line, and I raise our altitude at the same time. It doesn’t take us long to get to where we’re going, and I need to call it in to the tower. So, I reach twelve hundred feet and I hover above where the paratroopers will jump.

“Delta One, this is Whiskey Sierra.”

“Go ahead, Whiskey Sierra.”

“Roger, we’ve reached maximum altitude and are centered above the drop zone. The team is on standby and waiting for the green light.”

“Copy that, Whiskey Sierra. The jump team is a go. You have the green light.”

“Copy, we have the green light.” I reach down and flip a switch in front of me that illuminates a green lightbulb in the back of the chopper. After I flip it, I turn around in my seat to make sure it’s on, and that the jumpmaster, Colonel Burg, can see it. I signal to him that the light is green, and he signals for his team to move. That’s when it happens.

All of a sudden, all I can see in the back of the chopper is the image of Lieutenant Weston’s body sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by a shimmering pool of blood. The six paratroopers are still there, but as they start to get up, they’re stepping on Weston’s body and they don’t even know it. With every step, Weston’s carcass shifts and the blood splatters all over the paratroopers’ boots.

I suddenly feel like I’m spinning, and I’m terrified, so I close my eyes for a second, but when I open them, he’s still there. They’re still stepping all over his dead body, just like in one of my dreams, except I’m wide awake. My eyes bulge and I feel sweat starting to bead on my forehead as it becomes harder and harder to breathe.

Suddenly there’s a shift in the chopper. It rocks to one side and one of the paratroopers loses his balance and falls to the floor, just barely avoiding falling out of the door Colonel Burg just opened. I snap my head back around and look out the window, but I’m not hovering the chopper over the Nellis flight line anymore. I’m back in Afghanistan. The green grass below us has morphed into brown sand, and the empty field is now cluttered with stucco houses and filth. I feel like I’m losing my mind as I let go of the controls and cover my face with my hands, but the second I do, the chopper drops all at once and I have to grab on again to keep us in the air, but the engines are starting to stall and we keep dropping. I can hear screaming, but I don’t know where it’s coming from, and just when I’m about to turn around to look, the front windshield gets hit with multiple bullets.

Out of nowhere, I can hear AK-47’s being fired, and the rounds are bouncing off the shell of the chopper. There’s an explosion that rocks the helicopter to the left as smoke billows from one of the engines and we go into a spin. It takes all of my strength to pull us out of it just as the landing skids slam against the ground, jolting me forward and knocking my headset off.

When I realize I was just shot down, I reach down and unbuckle my harness, then I rush to find my weapon because I know they’re going to come to try to finish us off. But, I never find it. I reach in between the seats where I normally keep it, but it’s not there, and I feel even more afraid now because I can’t find it, so I look out the window to see if I can see them coming, and what I see scares me more than anything else.