Sam’s leaps go bad

I look down through the break in the trees and try to make out if the man about to shoot me in face is an agent of the DEA or FBI.

Doesn’t really make a difference I suppose; all the same to me. Small entry point one inch below my right eye, massive trauma to the back of my head upon exit.

I squint hard and I see the letters F, B…

BHAM!

The force of a sledgehammer hits; all is red, a pain similar to a tension headache that spikes at your forehead - only this time it’s bursting from back and darting forward like a tsunami of agony.

I’m falling backwards, there is a feeling of weightlessness. My final thought is, “Ziggy…”

I’m gone before I hit the ground.

I look out and I see faces full of hatred of anger, of fear. All these faces now look up at me in anticipation.

The rope is coarse; I can feel it scratch at the skin on my neck.

With both my hands and feet tied, it is impossible to move.

The trapdoor creaks beneath me; it aches to give way. It does not have long to wait.

From behind, the clank of the leaver, and I fall. My spine snaps; I don’t feel the biting hold of the noose.

I’m grateful for this respite from the pain.

All is mud and the stench of slow rotting death.

The walls on either side hold immense terror within them; an intoxicating sense of fear pervades the trench.

A whistle and I automatically start climbing the short ladder. I think “Al, where are you?” Al is nowhere to be seen; it has been years of ‘this’ since I last saw his artificial likeness.

I reach the top and pull myself up, slipping in the mud as I do.

The air is metal. A shell explodes at my feet and I tear apart. The end comes in a dizzying mix of red and brown.

But it is not the end, it is never the end.

The Earth fills my horizon. Africa, Europe, Asia all impossibly huge.
Weather patterns dance to a silent tune. For the first time in a thousand leaps, I feel a sense of hope.

As my faceplate cracks, I think “how perfect”.

The body I inhabit so briefly is frozen with that thought for all eternity.

What is the plan in this? Why have I been abandoned?

The glare from the lights whiteout all but the lion that stands between them. A second more and the light engulfs me too.

Sometimes it is over before I can even get a sense of what it is.

They all stand around my bed and cry for me. I desperately want to end
their suffering.

The cancer-ridden body of mine takes one final breath and I feel what is ‘me’ leaving, rattling as it does so.

I cling desperately to the rock, looking down to see a drop that never appears to end. It is hard to breath; my grip slips.

“Oh boy” I hear myself say, and I lose my grip entirely.