Storm Riders

The roiling black and greys of the storm clouds destroyed all visibility like the roar of the engines destroyed all sound. The large plane shuddered and dropped suddenly before bouncing up again. It was like riding a drunk, flying hippopotamus.

I unbuckled myself and used the hanging leather thongs to pull myself to the front. The next time everything lurched to one side, a mouthful of bile reminded me how much I liked flying.

Irritated, I banged on the sliding door that separated the cockpit from the rest of the plane. I don’t know how they heard me but the door opened- and slammed shut as we dipped a third time in as many minutes.

The door opened again and a sheepish pilot grinned at me.

“Sorry about that sir!”

“Never mind that. Can you keep this bird upright?”

He laughed. “No sir. See that?” He pointed to a star-burst of light that appeared in the clouds. “They know we’re up here somewhere. They’re shooting blind for now, but it’s gonna get a whole lot worse when they start shooting at us.”

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