Simon-G294/The Stumble

"Last chance, trainee! Jump!"

Simon's quivering hands were locked around the straps of the backpack the navy men had given him; his legs buckled and threatened to fall out from beneath him. Before him gaped the open troop bay of the Pelican dropship, and beyond that lay an icy blackness that seemed to Simon as if it would reach up and swallow him whole if he let it get any closer.

It seemed like an eternity since that one navy man had stopped by the orphanage to talk to him. Since then he'd taken a bunch of strange tests before they'd packed him up on a long space voyage that had him throwing up around the clock. Then they'd dropped him and hundreds of other kids off onto a dark field, where a big man surrounded by more big men had given some kind of speech about the Covenant and how they needed to fight them. Simon hadn't really been paying attention; it had been nearly half a day since his last meal, and he was starving.

But now they'd all been herded back onto the dropships, given strange backpacks, and now a huge navy man was telling him to kill himself.

"Do it, trainee!" the man bellowed over the gusts of cold wind. "Jump!"

Simon barely heard him. All he could concentrate on was the blackness in front of him. His entire body had become like stone, and he couldn't even think about moving. There was no way he was going into that darkness.

No way.

The navy man snorted in disgust. "Next!" he ordered, waving him back, and Simon loved him for it. Now he could go back to the orphanage, back to those bleak hallways and angry teachers, never again having to face the darkness that was in front of him. He'd rather be thrown back onto the streets, with their feral dogs and the days filled with endless hunger, rather than go into the blackness.

He took a step back, and the kid behind him pushed past.

Simon's leg slipped, just an inch...

Suddenly he was on his knees, hands scrabbling at the metal surface for something to grab onto. And then the wind grabbed him and pulled him out of the dropship and into the dreaded blackness.

The next few seconds stretched on for days, composed of an endless scream that was immediately snatched away by the wind the moment it left his mouth. He screamed and screamed and screamed until he couldn't breathe. There was nothing around him, just the open air and the impenetrable darkness. It was only after he ran out of breath that he remembered the navy man's instructions.

Pull the cords.

He couldn't even see those, but he reached up and beat desperately at his shoulders until his numb fingers closed upon a length of what had to be the cord. He tugged it with all that remained of his fading strength.

Nothing happened.

He hesitated, confused, then desperately yanked the cords again and again. He jerked his small arms up and down as the wind whistled around his falling body. And then, after another eternity, something behind him jerked up and away from his body. He felt a jolt, then yelped in pain as the backpack tightened around his body and squeezed out what little air he had left.

He must have blacked out for several minutes, because the next thing he knew was that his face was buried in a mound of dirt while the parachute that had saved him came to rest over him like a blanket.

There was the pounding of boots on dirt, then someone was tearing the chute off him and rolling him over. The stars twinkled overhead in the darkness as two more navy men inspected him.

"Jesus Christ, he's still alive..."

"When his chute didn't go, I thought he was a goner. Like that poor girl from the Betas..."

"Must've kept pulling. That's what saved him..."

Simon breathed out and looked back up at the stars. He was alive, and that was all that mattered. As long as he could keep it that way, he'd do anything.

Anything at all to survive.