Surrender the Sun - Book 3 - Point of No Return

"I can't believe the impossible choice I have to make. My friends are counting on me, and I don't want to let them down. So I make the decision to venture up to the surface one last time, despite the dangers that lay ahead.

As I make my way through the frozen landscape, my mind is consumed with thoughts of Jax and his caravan. I hope with all my heart they make it safely. But with the harsh conditions and unpredictable weather, I know it's a long shot.

Then there's the matter of Walt. The thought of him being dead weighs heavily on me, but I can't dwell on what I don't know yet..."

The catalyst for the Osprey’s design—the need to land vertically in tight places—also proved to be its menace. With rotors that tilted to make way for landing, there was a point of no return that had killed marines in the past. As the Osprey hovered over its landing area, the rotors turned downward…at a point in this turn, a sudden drop could occur like a slip in a steering wheel. Engineers worked continuously to solve the problem, yet the bodies stacked up over time.

A fail-safe usually prevented sudden descents and the inevitable crashes in the modern-day design, but with conditions such as the severe wind shear during the Maunder Minimum and sustained wind gusts, something went wrong. The point of no return became just that as Walt frantically tried to hold the Osprey up. In the blink of an eye, the craft was descending. All he had time to do was to key the mic rapidly four times.

* * *

“Walt! Walt!”

Hands shoved under his armpits. Electric sparks flew as he opened his eyes. The black of night held only a golden flicker, its source a mystery. A searing pain shot through Walt’s left leg. He was trapped. Yelling in agony, Walt jerked his leg, attempting to tear himself away from what held him prisoner.

“Walt! Help me, here.” The gruff, panicked voice belonged to Garrett Yeager.

Somehow, Walt was lying on his back. He bent his right knee and pushed with the heel to gain more traction. He was trying to help. Again, a severe pain shot through his left hip. And blazing heat. Where was the warmth coming from? Could there be a fire? “Oh God!” he yelled out in agony.

“You’re trapped in the plane’s wreckage, okay?” Yeager seemed to be reasoning with him. Trying to get him coherent enough to help. A frightened child screamed in the distance…in fact, several children yelled, though he heard one terrified voice above the others, a higher-pitch screamed, a cry of utter terror.

“What? What happened?” Walt asked. Thick, choking smoke invaded his wretched lungs so that he had to cough over and over again, trying to get a decent breath of air.

“Gotta…get you out of here. It’s on fire…the whole thing.”

“What!” The screaming…or was it ringing? Twisting his pounding head around, he struggled to find the source of alarm. Yeager pushed and pulled the torn wreckage that covered Walt’s lower body, the hard metal scratching against itself like nails on a chalkboard. Then Walt watched as Yeager ran around to the other side of the wreckage. He shoved his hands under Walt’s shoulders again and pulled relentlessly on Walt’s body, finally yanking him free, and dragging him through the twisted metal wreckage. Walt wailed with pain so excruciating that it felt as though his leg had ripped away.