Freeflying

[Viridian]

This story is part of a collaboration with tenenbaum. As a challenge, we decided to select a story and write sequel to it. This is my take on his story, "Deep Falling" (viewtopic.php?f=14&t=11093&p=77020)
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Freeflying
By Viridian

I couldn’t get that experience out of my mind. The rush of air going past my head. The icy fear when the parachute didn’t open. The deafness that blocked out my screams. The rapidly approaching canopy. The crunching and the cracking of branches, tearing through my suit and into my skin. Dangling over the quicksand. Wading desperately though the swamp to find a branch. Sinking. David’s head disappearing. His kiss. I never told my husband about what happened that day. He vaguely knew about the incident, but he never made the connection that I was the one who nearly fell to my death. I never told him about David’s secret passion. I felt it was wrong to put my husband in that situation. And David too. I think David understood that the most between the three of us. He said what he needed to say and freed himself of a guilty burden. I suppose a real romance story would have us married and living happily ever after. Somehow, neither of us had that longing for each other now that it was in the open.

He never gave up his passion for skydiving though. In the months since the accident, he had decided to make a living out of skydiving and became an instructor with the company that ran the skydiving program we regularly took part in. I hadn’t jumped since the fall, and my return to skydiving was as much about overcoming my fear as it was seeing David again. It was not to be, however. I hadn’t even begun to suit up when the alert came. Poor weather. It was a shame, because the skies were as clear as ever, but it was the roar of the wind that brought an end to my hopeful return.

I was about to pack up my gear and head back when I heard someone call my name. It was Stuart, one of the senior instructors.

“Molly,” he said, “we could use your help.”

Stuart was calm and professional. The last scheduled jump was caught up in the sudden winds and had been blown off course. These things did occasionally happen and it was rarely a significant hazard. The company had to send out vehicles from the drop zone to recover the divers. I wondered why Stuart would want someone outside of the company to help, but the reason was made clear.

“We believe they’ve been taken over to the same forest you fell in,” Stuart said. “You know, the one with the quicksand.”

Quicksand. I shuddered and felt cold sweat roll down my neck. I wasn’t any sort of search and rescue expert, but I knew the forest well enough and had my accident there. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go back. Maybe going back would help me face my fears. Maybe it wouldn’t. Stuart sensed my apprehension.

“Molly, David’s out there.”

* * *

It was surprisingly humid in the forest. It was damp, exotic, like a jungle, even though I knew well enough that it wasn’t. It was as if I had never been here before. I was glad I wasn’t stuck in a jumpsuit this time. My tank top was damp with sweat. I couldn’t imagine having to do the search with jumping gear. Stuart had picked up a handful of instructors and experienced jumpers to help with the search, but it was such a wide area that we split up.

I wasn’t sure what to say if I ran into David again. We had promised to go skydiving after we were rescued. We didn’t get around to it. At least, I didn’t. It was like having a case of the yips. I developed panic attacks whenever I remembered the fall. My hands would shake and I’d have flashbacks of being stranded. Even the sound of opening an umbrella was a trigger. I know, it sounds over the top, but when you narrowly avoid death, it kind of comes back to haunt you. I had David to thank for all that. Me being alive, I mean. I know he got right back into skydiving, feeding on the thrill of our near-disaster as if it was just another jump. I wasn’t made of the same stuff.

The forest felt vast. It was dense and made me feel small. It was a strange contrast for someone who belonged in the air and was used to being closer to the clouds. I could hear the sounds of birds calling out to each other, and occasionally one would rustle the leaves as it flew from one tree to another. My mind zoned out, captured by the peaceful atmosphere and fresh air. I couldn’t remember how long I was wandering for or exactly what I was looking for.

That soon came back to me. My feeling of lightness and peace was shattered when I saw the parachute dangling from the trees. My heart was in my mouth. At first I thought it was David, but on closer inspection it was female skydiver. She was suspended metres above the ground. Her suit was shredded and her body was limp. I shuddered at the possibility that she was dead. The impact with the canopy and the parachute snagging onto the treetops could possibly have snapped her neck. It was a horrifying sight to see her hanging lifelessly, swaying in the wind. In that moment, I felt overwhelmed with another memory. I knew what this was like. In those moments, when David strapped his chute to me and opened it low, I could only remember darkness when we hit the trees. I looked up at them now. The diver hanging above me could have been me. Indeed, even the jumpsuit was eerily similar to what I wore on that day. Beyond the chute, I saw the sky. The trees felt like they were growing. The diver was out of reach, and the clouds felt like they further away. But it wasn’t the forest that was taller. Looking down, I realised something else what was familiar.

Quicksand. I was so fixated on the sky that I was paying no attention to the ground. It was a very subtle change that caught me off guard, though I should have known better. The clearing I was standing in was actually a wide expanse of quicksand. As with much of the boggy spots in the forest, the ground was solid and inconspicuous, but with my weight and movements, the soil became saturated from an underground source of water and began to liquefy. I had only sunk to my calves, but I was slowly going down.

I took a deep breath. I did manage to keep myself out of trouble in my previous encounter and knew that if I planned quickly and moved slowly, I had a fair chance of getting out. It was just my luck that I was stuck right in the middle. Last time, I used a piece of driftwood to float on, but there wasn’t anything close by I could use. My only option was to make my way out of the unstable clearing and hope that I could make it before I sank too deep. It was slow and steady at the beginning, but I knew that the rate of descent would pick up once I agitated the bog. It was tough work. The mud was thick and sticky. It was helpful because there were more solid patches I could walk over without getting stuck, but trudging through the muck was exhausting. Once I was up to my thighs, the real grunt work began. I had to fight the quicksand for each step, losing inches at a time, and I was still a long way out from what I thought was the edge. I really was scared that I would get stuck and plummet straight down. I had to concentrate. I looked ahead and focused on this one, gnarled root in front of me. I didn’t know if it was strongly attached to anything, but I was going for that root. I kept my eyes on it, pushing forward against the suction of the bog. Once the quicksand reached my shorts, I dove forward onto my chest. The slimy mud slipping under my clothes felt uncomfortably intimate and the quicksand still had a firm grip on my legs, but I managed to reach the root. It held firm. Holding onto it, I rocked side-to-side to loosen the quicksand enough for my legs to slip free. My shoes were a lost cause, but that was a sacrifice I was happy to make. I was free.

There was a rustle and a snap. I looked up in time to see the diver plummeting from the canopy. Her parachute was torn up as she fell, finally catching onto another branch, but not before she hit the ground. Thankfully, it was a very soft landing. Still unconscious, she slumped face-down in the quaking bog. The way her body was spread over the surface prevent her from settling too deep, but it was only a matter of time until she was swallowed by the quicksand.

I carefully moved to the other side of the bog which wasn’t churned up. It was a five metre distance between me and the sinking skydiver. From here, I could clearly see the moisture and movement in the ground. As I thought, the whole clearing was a deadly pit of quicksand. I took more deep breaths as I gazed at the trembling bog. I focused the girl. Her legs were naturally being pulled under first, and soon her upper body would meet the same fate. I contemplated crawling over the quicksand, but the thick, sticky mud made me worried about my arms getting stuck. I didn’t have much time to mull over it. I stepped out into the quicksand again, this time with more purpose and haste. The quicksand was already hungrily slurping at my legs, pulling me back each time I tried to step forward. I was only halfway across when I plunged to my hips. The quicksand squeezed me like a living vice. I was scared. I wasn’t sure if I could go forward or back. I kept my gaze on the girl. I dug my hands deep and pulled myself forward. My only concern was to get to her. Somehow, I did. It was a clumsy effort of wading, swimming and crawling, but I managed to get to her before she disappeared. I pulled her back out of the bog and lifted her upright. As I did so, she stirred. She was alive.

“Wh…Where…”

“It’s okay, you’ll be fine. You’ve had a big fall. What’s your name?”

“Kirsten.” She looked up at her broken parachute and came to realise what she had survived. “I remember the wind. I couldn’t control the chute. David was too far away…”

“David?” My heart skipped a beat. “You were with David?”

“Yes. He’s my instructor – oh god, what’s happening? Where are we?”

Kirsten had only just noticed the quicksand pressing up against her ribs. I was slightly higher, up to my waist, with my arms around her body. We steadily sinking. Normally I would never go into a situation like this without a plan. This time, in my desperation to reach Kirsten, I hadn’t thought about a way out. We’d have to wait for rescue, but at this rate we’d only have a few minutes. The parachute was still above us. There was some slack in the suspension lines. We might be able to hold on. Kirsten was too battered and weak, so I pulled the lines taut. I wasn’t confident that it would hold. The branches were fragile.

“Can you hold onto me?” I asked her.

Kirsten nodded weakly. “I think I dislocated my shoulder.”

She could only hold on with one arm, and it wasn’t much of a grip. She kept on slipping down. I had to use both hands to get a firm hold on the parachute, and I was afraid of snapping the branch. We settled down to our chests, where we were able to reach some sort of equilibrium. It was a very tenuous one though. My arms were getting tired. I knew I was going to be overpowered by the bog’s pull at some point.

“Kirsten, I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I don’t think I can hang much longer.”

“Your name’s Molly, isn’t it?” Kirsten asked, to my surprise. “David mentioned you a few times. About the accident. He told me about how you wouldn’t let go of him when you fell into quicksand.”

“Yeah, the idiot kissed me as well. Thought it was our last moment together.” I chuckled, remembering back to that time when we were hanging over the bog. He had a certain intensity around him. Not just the life-and-death bit, but he was carrying something with him that he really had to let go of. That was why he didn’t want to let go of me.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d spend my last moments nuzzled between someone else’s boobs,” Kirsten joked.

As silly as it sounded, it was enough to help me relax. The quicksand was still pulling us down, but it didn’t feel as bad. I was beginning to understand the limits of our lifeline, alternating between pulling and sinking so that we didn’t go too deep before I risked another tug. We were still getting deeper though.

“Hey, I’ve got idea,” I said, partially inspired by Kirsten’s last comment. “This may sound a little weird.”

I started tearing off the remainder of Kirsten’s suit. I remembered how stifling our jumpsuits were when we were stuck in the quicksand. By getting it off, not only was Kirsten able to cool down, but the suit felt like it weighed a ton. It made a huge difference. Kirsten was able to get a better hold of me and I didn’t feel like I was being dragged down by a sack of bricks. We were both up to our shoulders, and with our faces so close to each other, we were more intimate than I had been with David in the same situation.

“Can I ask you something?” said Kirsten. “When you got out of the accident, what did you promise to do? I mean, you must’ve sworn to change your life around or something after that experience.”

“Yeah,” I answered. “I promised I’d go skydiving again.”

Kirsten sensed my awkward hesitation. “You never did, did you?”

“No. I was too afraid.” I pondered that for a moment. “And yet, I didn’t hesitate to walk out into quicksand, and now I’m inches away from drowning.”

“That sounds like something David would say too.”

We fell quiet again. We were surrounded by the sucking bog and the silent trees. How long had we been here?

“Molly, let’s make a promise,” Kirsten said. “When we get out, we’ll all go for another jump. You, me, and David.”

“I promise. This time, I mean it.”

We were nearly up to our necks. I gave the lines another pull and squirmed back up to chest-depth. However, it wasn’t the branch that snapped. The parachute itself tore off, flopping uselessly beside us, leaving us suspended in the quicksand by ourselves, now with nothing to hold onto. We embraced each other, feeling the quicksand pulling us back in. This time we exchanged no words. For some reason, we were compelled to do one thing. Holding each other tightly, our lips locked together. It was short and had no meaning, but we did it.

“I guess that’s one thing I can tick off my to-do list,” Kirsten said with a smile.

“You’re better than David,” I replied. “I’m glad I didn’t end up dating him. He’s a terrible kisser.”

“I won’t tell David,” said Kirsten.

“Tell me what?”

Kirsten and I immediately looked over to the edge of the bog. I had envisioned that David had been crippled during the fall and was in desperate need of my help. That was just my mind playing out a scenario that I thought would happen, like what happened last time. In actuality, David did what he was meant to do. He controlled his descent and landed in the drop zone despite the fierce wind and immediately got in contact with base. It was David who was coordinating the search for Kirsten. It was a far cry from tearing off my parachute and strapping his onto me. He had really become a professional skydiver.

Stuart also arrived with a long coil of rope. David took one end and tossed it out to us. “Kind of reminds you of old times, doesn’t it, Molly?” he said. I could’ve slapped that smile off his face. “So, when are we going for our next jump?”

[PM2K]

Nice!