a circle. He knew they were practising their formations on the ground before jumping. He’d seen other groups do it, but never Johnny’s team. They started spinning themselves into different shapes. Sam was directing them, observing, correcting. Johnny was strolling around the group; Ethan noticed that his helmet had a camera strapped to it.
Then the group burst out of their formation and jogged off to the minibus that would take them to the plane. As they clambered in, Johnny turned and gave Ethan an exaggerated salute, like a pilot heading off on some death-defying mission. Very tally-ho.
Ethan laughed. God, he wanted to go with them and jump!
The minibus revved and drove off, a plume of grey smoke spluttering from an exhaust that was held on by an old wire coat hanger.
Sam came straight over to Ethan. ‘You’ll need these,’ he said. ‘Binos.’
He handed Ethan a pair of binoculars that looked almost as mean as his Defender. They were covered in a rubberized skin which had clearly saved them more than once from getting smashed up.
The sound of the plane’s engine ripped through the air and Ethan followed it as it took off. He put the binoculars up to his eyes. Their clarity and magnification was unbelievable. He zoomed in, and could see the pilot in the cockpit. Soon, though, there was little point following the plane. Best to wait for that drop in the sound of the engine, like Johnny had told him, then spot it again and watch for the sky to fill with black dots.
‘Still want to do it?’ asked Sam.
‘Can’t wait,’ said Ethan, and nodded at the plane. ‘How long have they been jumping?’
The question he really wanted to ask was how long would it take for him to be as good as they were, and how much would it cost, but he didn’t want to sound too cocky.
‘Luke’s the most experienced,’ said Sam. ‘He’s been jumping for three years. The rest just under two. What’s more important though,’ he went on, ‘is the number of jumps. The more air time you get, the better the skydiver you become. Some people are better at it though . . . natural.’
‘Like Johnny?’ said Ethan.
‘Like all of them,’ said Sam. ‘That’s why I chose them for my formation team.’
‘Must be amazing up there.’
‘Trust me, it is.’ Sam turned to Ethan with a faint smile. ‘You spotted the plane yet?’
Ethan listened. The thrum of the engines was still audible. He looked up, and Sam did the same – just as the sound dropped a little.
Ethan put the binoculars to his eyes and stared skyward.
Nothing.
The sky was clear.
Then he found the plane; it was clearly visible. That’s 12,000 feet away, thought Ethan, remembering some of the stuff he’d picked up already since working at FreeFall. And that’s a hell of a long way to fall . . .
Skydivers filled his vision, spilling from the plane. He caught sight of a group speeding through the air. They drew together in one formation, then moved smoothly into another. Ethan tracked them, straining his eyes through the binoculars to see what they were doing. He imagined doing it himself, racing towards the earth with Johnny and the rest, pulling moves like a pro.
The formation burst, and the black dots split off from each other – zip-zip-zip-zip-zip . . .
‘What do you think?’ asked Sam. ‘Any good?’
‘Looked fine to me,’ said Ethan, still gazing through the binoculars. ‘At least, I think it did.’
‘Were the formations stable? Did anyone break off too early?’
Ethan replayed in his mind what he’d seen. ‘No, it was all good. Looked amazing.’ He paused and lowered the binoculars to glance at Sam. ‘Wouldn’t mind doing it myself.’
Sam looked at Ethan as canopies burst into colour above. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘That’s just the right attitude. Shows me that you’re not just thinking about the tandem. You’re thinking beyond it, to the next level. Just what I’m after.’
Ethan was just wondering what on earth Sam meant by that final sentence when he spotted something strange. He quickly raised the binoculars again.
While everyone else was now gliding in, doing turns, one skydiver was plummeting towards the ground, canopy pulled but flapping uselessly above, like a bedraggled windsock. And the ground wasn’t exactly getting further away.
Ethan lowered the binoculars and pointed. ‘Sam?’
Sam was already looking, his eyes narrow, his face hard.
‘That can’t be right,’ murmured Ethan.
‘It’s not,’ Sam replied.
Ethan held his breath. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the falling skydiver. Morbid curiosity had