The pilot set them down sweet as could be close by the retardant tanks.
Steve managed not to collapse to the grass when he landed too much on his overworked left knee. By grabbing out to steady TJ, they managed to hang on to each other well enough to remain upright.
He and TJ took a deep breath in unison when they had their balance and their eyes were no longer crossed with the pain. A shared nod with a grimace said more than enough about that.
Then the reality hit, “Whoo-hoo! Now that’s what I call flying!” Though his body was buzzing from the pounding of his shirt flapping against him in the rushing wind, he felt high as a kite and well on the way to drunk.
Dangling under a helicopter was absolutely the most beautiful way he’d ever found to fly, aside from dangling beneath a parachut
