Jenny in the Sky

The Rescue

There was a sliver of a moon that night.

Jenny wrapped her scarf tight around her neck, hugging the wool to her mouth. It was one 'o' clock at night, and all was silent. The watchman lay slumped against the wall, a drugged coffee cup hanging loosely from his fat palm. She patted her pocket, feeling the reassuring bump of sleeping pills. It was time.

Inky blue clouds covered the sky,  shrouding the stars and curling round a flickering Mars. Owl's cooed from beyond the skirting trees, as the wind rushed through the scattered blossom. Jenny crept towards the aircraft sheds, keys clutched in her hand. She reached the large, metal doors and inserted the key. Something was wrong.

The doors were already unlocked.

Jenny grinned to herself at the watchmen's carelessness.

She pushed the doors open, and stumbled into a harsh, yellow glow.

"Ah Jenny, thought I'd be seeing you here."

Jenny blinked rapidly at the invading light. Wilson was perched on an upturned bucket, torch in one hand, and spare keys in the other.

She groaned. "How long have you been waiting there?"

"I know why you're here, Jenny."

She slid to the ground and hugged her knees.

"I was going to save him." she whispered.

"I know. Risking your own life, as well as one of our aircraft models. You understand the damage you could've done?"

Wilson threw the keys in the air, and caught them with a casual flick of his wrist.

"The Armstrong Whitworth Whitley should do it," he said, staring at her intently "It's a sturdy plane, and should get you to Germany and back, no problem. I was thinking of taking a similar model, myself. No point looking for speed or fire power, given what we're going to do."

"W- what do you mean?" Jenny asked, wiping her eyes.

He shoved the keys into his pocket, and stood up.

"I mean," he said "I'm coming with you."

                                                                                 ***

 When she was six, Jenny had taken her father's bike to the top of a hill. She could barely reach the handlebars once on the seat, but that didn't stop her. Once both feet were off the ground, she let the wheels turn faster and faster, until the bike was racing down the slope, faster than any tractor or motorbike, the pedals spinning, the basket creaking until-

WHAM! The bike had stumbled over a rock, and Jenny went flying. She crashed into a lamppost and lay in pain, as a nearby neighbour ran for help.

But right before the crash, just as the pedals were spinning the fastest, Jenny felt it. She felt as though she were flying. She felt elation.

And that was the moment when she knew.

Now, nearly ten years later, Jenny felt the exact same joyous feeling, as the plane climbed higher and higher into the sky, the air shooting past her goggles and into her neck. The engine roared upwards, the propeller spinning around as though it's life depended on it. Higher and higher and higher she climbed, until there was no need to climb any higher and she drifted under the clouds, not caring about how difficult it was to breath, or that the temperature was deathly cold. Onwards she flew, occasionally dipping down to take bearings, never losing sight of the plane that held Wilson flying alongside her.

Eventually, they were above Nemo's coordinates. Jenny tipped forward to start the decent, propeller at an almost dangerous angle. The ground opened up beneath her, and in the distance sat the farms and clutched of houses of German towns. It all seemed so peaceful.

She looked out of the plane to the left, and as she was nearing the ground, she spotted a wreckage to the side of her. The wheels reached the grass, and Jenny brought the plane round to a stop. She lifted her goggles, and stood up.

Wilson was already by the wreckage, and alongside him hobbled the lean, bloodied figure of Nemo, supported by Wilson's shoulder. He called out.

"Get ready for the ascent. I'll get him in the plane."

Jenny nodded, and pulled her goggles back on. She shifted the engine into gear, and smiled at the familiar roar of the plane. Nemo was safe.

They had barely made it a mile in the air when it started. A low grumble came from behind, followed by the sound of guns. Jenny swivelled around in her seat, peering into the distance at the looming figures of enemy planes. Her heat quivered.

They were under attack.

She pulled the plane up, dodging the bullets, and swerved round. She had never fought anyone before, least of all in a plane, and definitely not in the dark.

An aircraft swung in front of her, cutting her off. She grabbed the controllers and nosedived, barely missing a crash. The air hissed in her ears and flashed over the goggle lens, as she brought the plane right up, and tried to concentrate. West. She needed to go west. The fingernail moon just about illuminated the small compass attached to the plane, but Jenny barely had time to glance down before another aircraft swung out besides her, followed by another one to her right, and one from behind. She panicked, and urged the plane to go faster, but there was no faster for the Armstrong Whitworth Whitley.

The bullet was inevitable.

Jenny felt it before she saw it. The back of the plane suddenly jolted up, the temperature increasing with every second. She looked back, and saw flames engulfing the tips of the wings. The propeller tipped forward, and she was diving down, faster than anything, faster, even, than the wind, or the sea, or the light... Her goggles snapped in the heat, and her eyes stung, the pressure hugging her to her seat, pulling her back while the plane span in fiery swirls around and around...

Jenny looked up, and shut her eyes as the plane collapsed to the ground.