The Skydive

Vincent was standing at the ground camp with an excited expression on his face. The last few weeks had been the biggest adventure of his life. He'd spent them learning how to jump out of an aeroplane: flying at 12,000 feet over a skydiving resort in Empuria Brava, Spain. Today was going to be his final day. Hopefully, today would be the day that he passed his skydiving qualification; a qualification which would be the envy of all his friends back home. He had already performed several jumps. This was the first jump where he would be engaging in complete unassisted free-falling. His training so far had served him well and he felt confident plummeting through the sky, like an arrow in flight. However, at this moment his hands were sweating. He felt his nerves crawling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't the jump that frightened him. He had jumped enough times now to know how to suppress his nervousness, at least a little. Something scarier was looming over his head. Today he was about to propose to his girlfriend.

She was standing just a little away from him, smiling at him as he rigged his parachute. Serendipity was slim and curvy in all the right places. Every male in the camp was ogling her, thinking that Vincent was a very lucky man; wishing they were in his position. He was sure Serendipity would be watching from the ground. She would see him falling at break-speed towards the ground below. He then planned to deploy the chute allowing the white blanket canopy to blossom in the sky. Some simple but powerful words had been embossed on the parachute:

'I love you Serendipity! Will you marry me?'

He could imagine her smile beaming, her eyes glistening as she read the message. It was of simple words and Serendipity took pleasure in simple things. Many often thought she seemed cold, but Vincent knew this was all a façade. At least he thought he did.

Adding to her curvature was one large bulge centered around her naval. She was pregnant with Vincent's baby. It had been over seven months now; in forty days she was expected to deliver. A child would be born into this world which Vincent could call his own: to be nurtured and taught how exciting life can be. The sides of Vincent's lips curled upwards as he imagined his adolescent son's and his bodies flying in tandem through the azure sky. A sense of unity being created; a sense of excitement and adventure being shared between father and son. He couldn't wait.

The camp seemed to shake as a loud, low-pitched cacophony emerged from the vicinity. Vincent took a deep breath as he felt the breeze of the Cessna aeroplane's propellers against his long, dark hair. A man with a red jumpsuit opened the side door of the vehicle and beckoned him inside. Vincent zipped up his scarlet jumpsuit and headed towards his plane. The man spoke with heavy Russian accent to greet Vincent and introduce himself:

"I'm Ivor, I veell bae your instructor today,." he said and then pointed to a man in a yellow and black striped jumpsuit, "and zees is our second buddy, Viktor."

"Hallo," said Viktor in a similar accent, "I look forward to jump."

"What happened to my previous instructor, " asked Vincent.

"He's seeck" Said the two Russians together, "but don't warry, ve already did 5000 jumps."

Vincent glanced from Viktor to Ivor, trying to judge each man's character from their glazed eyes. Their expressions seemed cold. Ivor had a low jaw, large horse-like teeth, raised cheek bones and a bald head. Viktor's facial features were a little less harsh, but looked equally intimidating under his scraggly beard and dread-locked hair. Although Ivor's build was broad, Viktor looked supple and agile. He had a strong feeling of mistrust towards the two men; he tried not to let it show. Besides, he would soon be diving out of a plane and wouldn't have anything to do with these men. He was skilful enough manipulate himself through the air alone. His mind dreamily drifted back to earth. The image of Serendipity's beautiful face helped him calm his nerves.

The plane took off. Vincent remembered how his emotions were in the passenger seat several days ago. His nerves had been swimming in his stomach. He had almost felt as if he wanted to throw up. Nonetheless, these days had long past and he'd now learnt to control his fears. His slightly weathered, rugged face was showing a relaxed disposition. His eyes displayed calmness and he was focused on the task ahead. Once the plane doors had opened, he would pull out, push in, and throw himself into the open. As he was falling, he would need to straighten his limbs and arch his back, sinking his belly to keep his centre of gravity low. This would stabilise him; stopping him spinning to oblivion. Following would be thirty seconds of exhilarating free fall. When he was ready to deploy he would reach behind his back, grab the pilot chute, and throw it into the air-stream. This would pull the parachute open. Written on it would be his message of unrequited love, displayed to the observers below. Serendipity was amongst them. She couldn't possibly refuse such a brave, passionate proposition. Vincent was certain that this was to be a special day: one of many happy memories.

The pilot shouted back into the cabin, "ok... Time to rumble."

Igor opened the side-door and readied himself by its left edge. Viktor moved behind the doors and signalled for Vincent to come forward. He stood up and sidled slowly towards the opening.  He felt a cold wind against his face and he remembered the his gut wrenching feeling during his first jumps. He positioned himself to the right of the doorway and crouched. This was perhaps the easiest part; it relied purely on adrenaline. He had to count to three. 'One': he pulled his head and body a little out of the plane, keeping his feet rooted firmly to the ground.  'Two': he pushed against the doorway, forcing his body and head back inside. 'Three:' He pulled one last time; his head lead his body into the void below. Once again he'd done it. He was accelerating towards terminal velocity through the air. Igor and Viktor followed closely in pursuit. Their role was to restore his body position on the first sign of any trouble. To stop him spinning into oblivion in case he couldn't stop himself.

Vincent felt as if the whole of the earth had pushed back up against him. His head was pushed upwards first, causing him to flip twice backwards. 'Stabilise,' Vincent thought as he remembered to arch his back and straighten his limbs. Sure enough, it worked; his stomach sunk below his body. It was now time for some aerial stunts. He performed a couple a barrel roll, dropping his right shoulder and letting his body spin around it's natural axis. He screamed with exhilaration as the ground and sky revolved around him. He performed another. No-one could hear him as his voice was lost to the wind. Next were somersaults where he tucked his head into his chest; adopting a foetal position which sent him into a tumble. He returned to his basic arched position, and checked the altimeter on his wrist. He was at 7000 feet. In a few seconds he would deploy. 

The wind fought against him as he sped towards the ground. Slow motion proved impossible; each movement violently forced him into a new position. He reached behind his back to search for the pilot-chute. His arm was thrown quickly against his backpack where the chute lay. He struggled to launch it, but managed. Vincent felt the earth pull away from him again. The parachute had deployed. Below he heard a magnificent bang. One of the warehouses at the camp had exploded. People were scurrying along the ground, like ants. A strong sickly feeling came over Vincent. He felt himself start to panic. 'What had happened on the ground? Was Serendipity safe?' He rolled his head in the direction of the canopy above him and registered a sudden feeling of shock. Above him was not his declaration of love. Vincent's message was not there. Instead, in red, there was another message. A message so hurtful, so painful:

"I'm sorry... I'm in love with someone else."

He saw it hurtling towards him. A shape in the distance, like a giant insect. The bright sunlight reflected off its yellow stripes. It wasn't a wasp; it was Viktor. His form was sleek. His legs were curled upwards. His arms were clenched around his low belly. His hands were cradled around a giant knife. Its blade was long and curved. He moved with such elegance; his wasp-like form was speeding towards one point; its very target - the parachute itself. Turning to his left, Vincent saw the horrific sight of Ivor hanging from his parachute, motionless. A 9mm hole had been bored into Igor's head. Someone on the ground must have shot him...

"Serendipity," Victor thought, "how could you?"

Then he heard it - a large rip as Viktor's knife tore through his parachute. The earth pulled Vincent back towards it. He could feel himself accelerating downwards; faster and faster. His parachute was now useless. He had about twenty seconds before his bones would crumple into the ground. He needed to act fast. What could he do? Wait... He remembered the reserve parachute. If only he could deploy it. But first, he would need to lose the main parachute. How to do that again? Of course, the release cord behind his back. He just had to pull it and - woosh! It floated away.

His acceleration increased. It wouldn't be long now. Had Serpendipity or Viktor destroyed the reserve? He checked his altimeter. It was at 800m. It should have been deployed... But it hadn't. He had only a few seconds left. Three.... Two.... Bang! A minute explosion in his backpack expelled the canopy. It pulled him upwards slowing down his speed greatly as he collided with the grassy ground. But, oh, with what force he did. He felt a sharp pain searing through his legs. They skidded hard in front of him, pulling his torso backwards. His hindquarters hit the ground and he was brought to a halt.

He was lying there, unable to move his legs, the supporting cords of the reserve parachute traipsed behind him. A familiar figure was towering over him. She was silhouetted against the amber evening sun. Her shadow was long and shed greyness over Vincent's face. In her arms she was holding a heavy duty rifle. It was pointed straight at Vincent's forehead.

"Serendipity..." whispered Vincent as a sharp pain shot again through his lower limbs.

"I thought I asked Viktor to remove the reserve," she said coldly.

"Serendipity... why?" he said.

She'd done well to keep a cold face to this point, but tears welled in her eyes. She fought them back and exclaimed with bitterness, "You'd never understand."

She pulled the trigger. The bullet penetrated Vincent's skull. He felt no pain.

His consciousness faded, and faded, and drifted. It drifted to a new place, another dimension. Time was now limitless. He could travel forwards and backwards as he pleased. Free in space, free in time. He could discover what really happened. He had to go back. Back to a time well before he was shot. Back to a time well before his skydiving course.

He traversed through the fabric of time until he understood. Then he was ready to travel into the future. He had to decide on his new life. He had to chose the host for his reincarnation. It became obvious to him where he was meant to go. He chose his own son. His soul could put things right. Truly avenge those who had caught great pain to himself. To hunt down the man who had caused his dear girlfriend and mother-to-be to have destroyed her child's father. He must pay.

His conciousness faded. Each one of his memories diminished into nothingness. His mind was once again becoming simple. Once again returning to the very start of the circle of life. But forever in this boy's life one memory was to remain. Buried deep inside his subconscious the memory of his own mother: the killer. It would haunt his very dreams. But not yet... For Jeremy Migauke was just about to be born.