Air Born | Generation Icarus #1

Tyler - What a helluva way to die

WARNING: Side effects of reading Generation Icarus include increased blood pressure, elevated heart rate, involuntary insomnia, and compulsive shipping. Since its original debut on Wattpad as "First Flight" in 2014, many readers have demonstrated alarmingly addictive behavior resulting in fanfiction, fan art, and cosplay. As yet, there is no known cure.

Read at your own risk.

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"Tyler, you are such a freak."

I ignored Nico and checked my wrist altimeter. 1000 feet. I sang louder. "Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die."

Nico rapped my helmet with his knuckles and his voice crackled in my headset again. "Earth to Tyler. Perfect soundtrack for our first solo jump, dude!"

I pushed the mic closer to my mouth to do justice to the chorus. "Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die, and he ain't gonna jump no mo-o-ore!"

"So, Babyfreak, you grow freakishly fast and you sing freakishly bad."

"My singing might be crap but at least my good taste in music makes up for it. Yours is just f—"

A new voice cut in. "Guys, can we keep this professional, please. No chatter on the radio."

Grinning, I leaned my forehead on the window so I could get a better look at the rapidly-shrinking Californian landscape. 2000 feet.

Nico resettled on the bench seat and smiled sweetly at Hayley, across from us. "We're not on official CAP business now, cadet captain. This is strictly pleasure." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the attractive blonde.

She kicked him. "You need to learn a bit of respect, or you're gonna get your ass handed to you at Officer School this summer."

As the two of them fell into the familiar banter that came from years of being in the same Civil Air Patrol cadet unit together, I checked the altimeter again.

3000 feet.

It was a climb we had made many times over the previous few months, but this was the first time we were jumping solo. At the rear of the little plane, the instructors were talking to the other trainees, all college students or older. Hayley and Nico were eighteen and nineteen and I'd just turned seventeen. Nico liked to call me Babyfreak whenever he got the chance.

I ignored him, knowing I'd have to survive a lot worse at basic training when I finally entered the real Air Force, hopefully in just a few months. But as I was barely old enough to apply, I had to make sure my résumé was the best in the pile, and that was where the skydiving came in. As soon as Nico and Hayley had heard I was going for my licence, they signed up too. Competition between the three of us was genuinely friendly, but serious. We all liked to win.

4000 feet.

The plane tilted gently as it spiralled higher, the drone of the engine loud in my sensitive eardrums. I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable with the bulky parachute pack forcing me to sit upright. The familiar pain in my back flared as I moved.

I tried to hide it, but Nico must have seen the look on my face. He frowned, covered his mic with his hand, and leaned closer.

"Dude, I thought your back was better?"

I glanced at Hayley, but she didn't seem to be listening, distracted with her pre-jump checks.

"It's fine," I said, resisting the urge to reach over my shoulder. I knew that it was definitely not fine.