Brace for Impact

I have no choice– Now, I’m skydiving without a parachute. My eardrums ache and pop as water streams from my ungoggled eyes. The wind buffets me from all sides as I take a mental inventory of what wasn’t left behind.

I have my Gun™! But I doubt shooting the ground would make any difference.

My boot knife! What am I going to do, stab the air to death?

I scream profanities at the top of my lungs as the wind whips them from my rapidly drying mouth. I can barely think within the raucous noise, and breathing the thin air is difficult. My training had not covered this scenario: what to do if a witch opened a portal beneath your feet mid-battle.

Take stock of your surroundings!

Where are you?

What can you use?

I open my eyes as wide as I dare against the biting wind, hoping some giant fluffy bird is below me. The sky is lemon yellow, and the grass below is deep crimson—a forest of twisted bubblegum-colored trees with flickering silver leaves— this is not my world, not even close. There is no bird.

Where did the witch send me?

Nevermind– FOCUS!

My military-issue DevCom™ it’s still wedged in my ear!

If I can reach it, I can call for help!

It’s no easy feat groping my right hand across my left shoulder, crossing my body against the wind, but I manage it. I faintly hear the DevCom™ chime on as my palm depresses the button.

I never thought I’d be glad to hear that stupid chime.

“HELP, I’M FALLING. AND I’M ON A PLANET WITH A YELLOW SKY. AND PINK TREES. AND I JUST TURNED ON MY DEVCOM™. AND I HAVE LESS THAN A MINUTE BEFORE– JUST SEND HELP!”

My plea for help meets with crackling silence; at best, they would have heard to the blaring static from the wind.

There’s no way that’s gonna work.

They can’t hear me at all!

Useless.

My mind fumbles for anything else that might help slow my rapid descent.

Oh, my wand could help me! Where is my wand?

Or Bartholemew, my annoying wizard college roommate.

Or any of the magic on the other side of the portal!

How much longer before impact?– Impacting what?

Trees, there are trees below!

The weird pink trees could break my fall enough to survive.

I would batter myself against the upper limbs and suffer a great deal of pain, but I’m willing to take broken arms and legs over immediate death.

– you know, unless I break my neck.

My mind fumbles for anything else to help slow me down, but I am running out of ideas. If there was a lake or puddle, I might’ve aimed for that. But then I remembered hitting the water this fast would be as bad as hitting Vicelock Durasteel™.

They can’t break in and steal with Vicelock Durasteel™! Doo-doo-doo- DUN!

4… 3… 2…

I don’t remember when my brain started counting down, and I have no way of knowing if it’s accurate–

At least my life was still better than Bartholomew’s.

My last regret is remembering that stupid jingle at a time like this.

Brace for impact!

The air punches from my lungs, crushing me. Yet somehow— warm and wet? Prying my eyes open, I was no longer falling. A meaty black tentacle grapples me inches from the gray canopy in its slimy grip. It slowly drags me back up through the portal.

Not again, Bartholomew … disgusting