Summary: Jake flies a group of college students to La Huerta.
Author’s note: This is set during Book 1, chapter 1 of Endless Summer, and the dialogue is taken from the chapter.
It was a clear day, and visibility was good. Jake stretched out and put his feet up on the dashboard of the plane. This time he was headed for La Huerta. Although he flew to different locations in the Caribbean, the passengers were pretty much the same: a bunch of rich people who were going to sun themselves at some resort. This time it was a group of bratty college kids.
He reached up and covered his mouth as he yawned. As usual, he hadn’t slept very well the night before. Those damn nightmares kept waking him up. Last night it had been the same one he had had so many times before. He and Mike were flying over the coast of Kharzistan on what was supposed to be a standard recon mission. Suddenly missiles began hurtling toward them. They were being ambushed by Kharzistan military. Jake ejected, his parachute opened, and he began dropping downward. He winced as he watched the plane explode. As he drifted toward the ground, he frantically looked around for another falling parachute, but did not see one. No! No! Not Mike! He bit his lip as tears welled up in his eyes. Mike was his best friend. His only friend, really. They were like brothers. And now he was gone. The tears began falling, and as he hit the ground, he began sobbing uncontrollably. Then he woke up screaming and shaking.
He put the plane on autopilot and tried to relax. The next thing he knew, he heard a woman’s voice.
“Excuse me. It’s Jake, right? Weren’t we supposed to have landed by now? Wait, are you asleep?”
Jake opened his eyes and turned in the direction of the voice. A young woman with blue eyes and long blond hair was standing in the cockpit. He frowned at her, irritated. “Listen, Princess, don’tcha know it’s rude to wake someone who’s taking a nap?”
She glared at him. “Princess?”
He smirked. “What can I say? I give nicknames to people who annoy me.”
“In that case, I’m calling you Hotness,” she replied.
“Of all the demeaning nicknames you could have given me, you went with ‘Hotness.'” She thinks I’m hot, he thought. He had to admit that she was quite attractive. A pain in the ass, but sexy. As she stood there, alone with him in the cockpit, he wondered if she was interested in joining the Mile High Club.
“I don’t think well on my feet,” she claimed.
“Anyway, relax. We ain’t landing ’til…” Jake’s eyes widened. “The hell? That time ain’t right. And that ain’t right either.” He began whacking the instrument panel.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” the young woman asked.
“If you knew half the things I’ve survived, you’d bet on me to get you through anyth…” Jake abruptly stopped speaking as they suddenly encountered severe turbulence. He watched as the young woman slammed into the wall. “Aw, just great!” he grumbled. “This stormfront’s coming in quick.” He reached over and grabbed the controls. “Get your ass in a seat, hear? And tell everybody to buckle up.”
As the girl exited the cockpit, Jake focused on getting through the storm safely. Everywhere he looked, he saw dark clouds. The plane began to rock back and forth from the force of the wind. Balls of lightning moved through the sky. Oh shit. One was coming toward the plane. With a loud clap of thunder, the lightning struck. Sparks began to fly in the cockpit, and the engines flamed out. The lightning intensified, and then suddenly the plane passed through the storm clouds and into clear skies once again. Jake steered the plane downward as it moved rapidly towards La Huerta. A smoking volcano came into view as they came closer to the island.
He called to the tower to request emergency priority to land, but got no response. Damn it, he thought. Carlos was ignoring him. Jake wasn’t about to forget that Carlos still owed him a hundred bucks, so staying quiet wasn’t going to help. He began heading for the dirt airstrip. He steered the plane closer and closer until it touched the ground, and pulled it into the hangar.
At last, they had arrived in La Huerta. It had been one hell of a flight. He couldn’t wait to get paid and head back to Costa Rica. A hammock and a bottle of whiskey were calling his name.