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The next boy jumped without even looking. And the next.
Then it was Shane's turn.
He couldn't move his legs.
"Hurry up, loser," the boy behind him said and gave him a shove.
Shane stumbled forward—halting only a half step from the edge. He turned and stopped himself from shoving this kid back. The kid was a head taller than Shane, and his black hair fell into his eyes, making it seem like he was missing his forehead. Shane wasn't afraid of this creep.
He turned back to face the night rushing past him. This was what he was afraid of.
Shane's legs filled with freezing concrete. The rushing wind was so loud he couldn't hear anything else anymore, not even his hammering heart.
He couldn't move. He was stuck on the edge. There was no way he could jump.
But now he was so scared he couldn't even turn around and chicken out, either. If he sat down, though, and then slowly inched back—
"Go, dumbass!" The creep kid behind him pushed. Hard.
Shane fell off the ramp and into the night.
He tumbled and screamed until he couldn't breathe.
Shane saw flashes of the dimming sunset, black ground, the white caps of the mountains, and stars.
He threw up.
Some confusion will be normal.
The red handle! He had to grab it. He reached up, but there was nothing there. He clawed at his shoulder until two fmgers found purchase. He tugged.
There was a ripping sound and something unraveled from his pack.
Shane jerked straight, his legs whipping after him, and his teeth snapped together from the sudden bone-jarring deceleration.
The spinning world stopped.
Gasping and blinking away his tears, Shane saw the last bit of amber light fade from the edge of the world, and the stars gently rock back and forth around him.
Overhead the wind whistled and rippled though a black canopy. Ropes connected Shane to this wing, and his hands instinctively grabbed them. As he pulled, the wing turned and angled in that direction.
The sudden motion made him dizzy again, so he let go.
Shane squinted and made out shapes swimming around him: black on black like the bats on Harvest. Those had to be the other kids, gliding like he was.
His face heated as he remembered how he'd chickened out at the last minute in the Pelican… in front of everyone. Even that little girl had jumped.
Shane never wanted to be scared like that again. Maybe if he imagined that he was already dead, then there would be nothing to be afraid of. It'd be like he'd died with his parents on Harvest.
He mustered this mental image—dead and nothing to fear— and to test it, he looked down. Past his dangling feet there was a two-centimeter green square. After a moment, he realized it was the field where all the Pelicans had landed. Tiny lines snaked from the field illuminated by tiny firefly pinpoints,
"Nothing to be scared of," he whispered, trying to convince himself.
He forced himself to pull the ropes, angle downward, and speed toward the green field.
Wind whipped through the black silk wing, and tore at Shane's face. He didn't care. He wanted down fast. Maybe if he was the first one down, he'd show everyone that he wasn't scared.