The wind flipped her over so she was on her stomach. The landmarks that had looked so tiny in the plane were growing rapidly.
I can do this, Amy told herself. I have to. She heard Duncan’s voice in her head.
Keep your back arched for stability.
She pulled her shoulders back and bent her knees, like they’d practiced during training.
Keep your arms and legs at equal distances to maintain control.
She chanted the instructions to herself like a prayer.
Check your altimeter.
Amy grunted as she forced her arm up, fighting the wind to bring it close enough to read the device.
Eight thousand feet.
Should she pull her chute now?
Sixty-five hundred feet.
The ground was getting closer. She could make out the tops of trees.
She reached her hand back to yank the cord, but felt nothing but air. She tried the other side. Nothing.
The sob that had been stuck in her throat released. Tears poured down her face, and the trees turned to green blurs.
Five thousand feet.
The green blurs grew larger.
Forty-five hundred feet.
Using all her strength, she forced her hand back one more time and felt her fingers close around the handle. She pulled as hard as she could.
There was a whooshing sound and she was yanked up in the air like a string puppet, though it felt like her stomach had come loose and was still falling without her.
Her speed decreased and, suddenly, she was floating.
Her heart was beating so fast she thought it was going to splatter against her rib cage. She forced herself to take a deep breath. She could do this.
A field came into view. Amy tried to forget the fact that most skydiving accidents involved failed landings. She didn’t care if she broke every bone in her body, as long as she lived.
She brought her knees up to her chest and braced for impact. Her feet hit the dirt and she tumbled forward, somersaulting a few times before landing on her back with a heavy thud. A jolt of pain shot through her, but she barely yelped. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of her.
Amy lay on the ground with her parachute twisted around her. She could feel the prickle of grass behind her neck. A small stone lodged under her right calf. A trickle of blood running down her left cheek. It all felt strangely wonderful. She was alive.
Amy wiggled her toes, flexed her feet, and then stood up. She was bruised and dizzy, but she could walk. She scanned the field and could just make out the other Cahills about a half mile away. She wondered if they’d seen her jump alone. Would Dan have already guessed what had happened?
She walked slowly, savoring the feeling of the ground beneath her feet. Part of her wondered if the Vespers were watching her, and she waited for the familiar cloud of anxiety to consume her, but it didn’t come. Her heartbeat remained steady.
When Amy finally reached the group, she found them sitting in a circle, laughing as they did imitations of one another in the air. The instructors were standing to the side, unfazed by the routine jump. Dan’s cheeks were flushed with excitement as he gestured wildly to Hamilton. Natalie was trying to smooth her hair. They had no idea how close she’d come to dying. How close the Vespers had come to getting exactly what they wanted.
Hamilton looked up as Amy approached. “Whoa, Ames. What happened to you?”
Amy paused and the others stared at her. She caught Dan’s eyes and he jumped to his feet. “Are you okay?” he asked, taking a step forward.
She nodded.
“Where’s Teodora?” Jonah asked, looking around the field.
Amy opened her mouth to brief the other Cahills, but then stopped. Living in fear hadn’t helped her prepare. All it had done was drive Dan and her apart. She needed to make sure her family was ready, but this wasn’t the moment to tell them that their lives were in danger.
“Don’t worry about it,” Amy said. It felt strange to speak. “Let’s head back. We have a bunch of language teachers coming to the house this afternoon.”
Madison groaned and Natalie rolled her eyes. Ian brought his hand up to his face like he was smothering a laugh.
Amy drew her shoulders back and raised her chin. “Everyone head to the bus now,” she said, in a voice that was not her own but somehow sounded familiar.
Jonah raised his eyebrows, but stood up. “Come on, y’all,” he said. Ian, Reagan, and Hamilton rose with him, but Madison and Natalie remained seated.
“You heard me,” Amy said. “Move it.” The girls got to their feet, shot her a confused look, and started walking toward the bus.
Dan hung back for a moment and then turned to Amy. “Are you sure you’re okay?” The color drained from his face as he looked into Amy’s eyes. “Did something happen up there?”
“I’m fine.” She meant it. “Come on,” she said, smiling for the first time since she’d stepped on the plane. “We need to get to the bus before Ian plugs his iPod into the speakers.”
Dan shuddered. “I’d rather face a thousand Vespers than listen to Beethoven.”
A few hours ago, the thought of a thousand Vespers would’ve made Amy’s stomach curl. But now, nothing seemed impossible. She would be ready to fight. They all would.
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Clifford Riley would like to acknowledge Mallory Kass.
Cover design by Keirsten Geise; Rapid Fire logo design by Charice Silverman
First edition, December 2011
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e-ISBN 978-0-545-43701-1
39 Clues Rapid Fire 5 Turbulence Page 3
