“The nearest description I can find is…ripples,” he said.
“Ripples,” John said, keeping the menace in his voice despite the shock rippling through him.
Ripples.
“Ripples in time,” the geek said.“Time is…” he gestured out the window.
“Rippling around us,” John prompted.
“Yes, sir.”He brightened.“It seems to have stopped.”
“Any idea where were are?”John asked.Or when?
The geek looked around, as if hoping for a road sign.
John sighed.“Okay, let’s return to base.”
Ripples.Yeah, he needed to talk to Stella.
Con began a loop, then applied some aileron and rudder, putting the plane in a roll.A missile shot past under the wing, messing with his roll some, before striking the ground with a flare of deadly light.
The only reason they were still alive was because of his stunt pilot training, though he didn’t like doing these moves in an unfamiliar plane.That seemed like the lesser of two evils, however.
He pulled back on the stick, putting them into a steep climb, then kicked the rudder so that they pivoted on the axis, coming down in a straight line toward the helicopter.
Helicopter.He no longer doubted that the weird horizons were sending them through time.And now it had sent them into a time when helicopters existed, the kind that could shoot missiles.
It was fast, too, and could maneuver like a son of a gun.His mother wouldn’t have liked him using that term either, but it wouldn’t have set her foot tapping as much as if he’d used the other word.
Whoever was in the helicopter had the edge.
But he had a few tricks up his sleeve they wouldn’t be expecting.
And he couldn’t get cocky about that.Each time he went into a stunt, they’d learn from it, learn how he flew.Well, he knew a lot of other pilots, knew their moves.He’d just have channel some of them, too.
Despite the danger, it felt good to be doing stunts again.With the world spinning around him, he had the illusion he was in control, even if only briefly.
The hostile chopped short his mild buzz when they opened fire with bullets, spraying one wing.He managed to twist the plane away before the shots hit the cockpit.
He followed this with a snap roll, applying elevator, aileron, and rudder in the same direction.
The plane spun around its center of gravity as two missiles went past on either side.
He came out of the roll, wishing for something—anything—he could use for cover.He knew he could out-fly them if he just had some place to head—
He frowned as the horizon began to pulse just ahead of him.At the center of the pulsing were clouds.Lots and lots of dark clouds.
He shouldn’t fly into a storm.
They could die in there.
They were going to die here.
He turned the stick and headed straight for it.
They might make it through the storm.
They wouldn’t survive the dog fight, even using all the tricks he knew.
