Page 146 of Damián

“Dami! If one of those hits the fuel tank, we’re going to be astronauts!”

“Just aim for the right wing! I’ve got a plan.”

“What’s the plan?” he asks, changing directions toward the right wing.

“We jump.”

“At twenty-four miles an hour?!”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“No, I love it!” Björn grins, throwing a quick glance to the back seats. “Pass me the fire extinguisher from the back.”

I twist around, unhook the super heavy extinguisher, and give it to him.

“Ready in two.” He takes the extinguisher and slams it down onto the accelerator, wedging it tightly under the steering column. “Now!”

I kick my door open and throw myself out, trying my best to roll instead of just splatting flat… But the impact is freaking brutal.

I hit the tarmac shoulder-first, tucking my chin to my chest as my momentum sends me tumbling. The concrete shreds my shirt, tears at my skin, bruises my ribs, and knocks the air completely out of my lungs.

A la madre…

I gasp for breath as I force myself to roll onto my stomach.

“Everyone, take cover.”

I bring my rifle up, aiming, and wait for the exact moment the fuel truck slides under the plane’s wing. Then, I shoot.

The tank on the truck ruptures, dumping gallons of highly flammable fuel all over the concrete.

“Say goodnight, pendejos,” I whisper.

I shoot the tarmac right next to the puddle, creating a spark that ignites the fuel, and BAM!

The explosion is magnificent and big.

Okay… maybe too big.

Damn it… I am way too close to the blast, and my body hurts so much I can’t move away in time.

“Damián!”

I turn my head just as Björn dives out of nowhere. He’s dragging a thick sheet of corrugated steel, likely blown off a nearby hangar, and he throws it right over the two of us.

The blast wave hits.

The heat washes over our shitty shield so intensely that it feels like the oxygen is instantly sucked from my lungs.

And when it’s finally over, we stay pinned to the ground for what feels like ninety years, waiting for the flaming debris to stop raining down on us.

Finally, Björn shoves the metal sheet off and rolls onto his back, panting heavily. His face, hair, and beard are covered in ashes, and he has a fresh cut bleeding over his left eyebrow.

He looks at me, his chest heaving… and bursts out laughing.

“Holy fuck! Did you see that?!”

“That was a ten out of ten, hermano!” I laugh back and start coughing. “Ouch, my ribs… my shoulder…”