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It floated beneath me for over a minute – and then I saw it crumple and distort.
It had hit the water.
I checked my LED counter.
500 feet…
400 feet…
300 feet…
Keep your legs bent and loose, ready for impact.
100 feet…
I saw the moonlight glinting off the water’s surface, and fought every instinct in my body to tense up.
WHAM.
My legs jolted like I was hitting solid ground, pushing them up against my face. Cool water rushed over me, filling my nose and mouth.
Coughing and gagging, I struggled to do what Johnny had told me:
First and foremost, don’t drown.
I flailed my arms and legs and coughed out saltwater, relaxing slightly as my floatation jacket kept me from going back under. At least the water was calm. The waves were small – no more than gentle swells that bobbed me up and down like a cork.
Hit the release on your parachute harness, otherwise you’ll get tangled up and drown.
The chute was already in the water, somewhere behind me. I could feel it tugging against me, pulling me backwards in the ocean currents.
I found the buckles on my parachute harness and clicked. The harness sloughed off into the water, and the tugging stopped. Now I was adrift.
I panicked for a second when I realized that I had let go of my AR-15. I imagined it sinking into the ocean depths like a stone thrown into a bottomless pit. Then I remembered that it was tethered to me with a cord. I reached underwater, felt the metal frame, and relaxed.
Swim to the crate.
In the darkness it was impossible to tell where the crate had landed, but it had a tracking device embedded in it, and my LED screen displayed a directional arrow leading me straight to it. It took me three minutes, but I finally found the crate bobbing in the waves, tangled up in its parachute like the prey of some giant jellyfish.
Pull the latch on the crate. It will come apart, and the sled will float.
I pulled the latch and cranked it clockwise. The metal crate came apart, leaving the scuba sled floating on the water. It looked like a child’s sled painted black, with a fan attached to the front and mostly submerged in the water.
Test the sled to make sure it’s functional.
I grabbed the handles and felt for the buttons. The main one was on the right handle. I clicked it, and the fan in the water spun to life, chugging and pulling me forward. I let it carry me a few feet before I cut the motor.
Then just wait.
Two minutes went by, then five. I was starting to get alarmed when I heard a burbling, churning sound in the distance. The noise stopped, and was followed by Johnny’s voice.
“Connor, you there?”
“Yeah,” I called.
The churning sound started again. Seconds later Johnny appeared like a dark, seal-like shape coasting across the moonlit water. He cut the sled’s motor and all was silent again.
“You okay?” he asked.
