We're Flying!

    The roar of the engine frightened the natives, causing them to take cover on the ground. The propeller sent wet leaves and vines like miniature missiles flying in their direction, forcing them to stay prone until the plane pulled away.

     As he taxied down the strip, John cranked the flap setting to full in preparation for a short field take-off. As the wing’s trailing edges lengthened, he turned to check on Steve. His buddy was still restless, and not of much use. John set the brakes, running the engine to maximum power. The brakes groaned and the wheels longed to be free. John saw a blur pass before him as he realized the arrow assault had resumed. Something else caught his attention, and he saw how a character ran full speed toward the plane, a stone axe raised in attack.

     John released the brakes and plowed full power toward the end of the runway, but not before the foe released his ax. Striking Steve’s window, it splintered the glass like a complex spider web.

     John held the yoke back as far as possible to keep the nose wheel up. So far he had eaten a lot of ground and still hadn’t gotten off the strip as the long wet grass slowed them. He pulled the throttle to idle and crawled to a stop. At the end of the runway, he increased power to turn around before setting the brakes again. “I’ve got to make it this time,” he groaned, clenching the yoke with his left hand. With his right, he pushed the throttle.

     John released the brakes and began rolling. It wouldn’t be too hard to pick up speed as he headed down hill. He looked down the runway to see four people running in defiance toward him. As the plane lifted, he was encouraged as the sound of grass scraping the wheels was replaced with silence.

     “We’re flying!” John shrieked.

     As he neared the end of the runway, still only five feet above field, he tried to pull the yoke back. Nothing, it wouldn’t budge. He glanced right and noticed the unconscious Steve slumped across the controls.

      “Oh no, you don’t,” John said. He pulled Steve upright.

     Steve came to and yelped as the plane headed straight for the natives. He closed his eyes, anticipating the deadly propellers slashing them. Instead, the equally horrified people ducked to the ground as John pulled up and to the right. The plane responded with a slow roll as it climbed higher into the late morning sky.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Arrows and Hatchets

     “Hmm?” Steve answered groggily. He wore a stupid smile.

It’s not over. I need you to take the controls so I can prop the plane. Those guys drained the battery.”

     “Ok, fly to get more batteries,” Steve said in his delirium.

     “No! no! no!” John yelled. “I have to hand prop the plane. Listen; just hold your feet on the brakes.”

     John climbed out and turned the propeller a couple of times and prepared for a starting kick. Then he saw a commotion in the jungle. Some of the natives were holding up the ponchos where he and Steve had been. So far they hadn’t seen him.

     “Please, God, let this start,” John prayed before throwing the propeller downward.

     It went around sputtering but not catching. The alerted natives looked and moved slowly toward the plane, taking cover as they advanced.

     “Great, an audience.”

     A hastily fired arrow struck the back window and deflected high above John’s head. He jumped up and shoved the propeller with all his might as he came down. John ran a wide arc around the spinning propeller and entered under the left wing.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

It's Time to Go

     Time passed slowly that morning. The natives searched for hours before finally leaving, or at least that’s what John hoped they’d done. The sun was higher in the sky and began burning off the rain water that fell the previous day. Once again fog and steam started to form, leaving John hoping for a gentle breeze to disperse it.

     His plan was simple. He would help Steve the seventy-five or so yards to the awaiting plane and take off straight down the runway. The airstrip sloped upward about five degrees, so he would need all the power the plane had. He nudged Steve, who less than alert.

     “It’s time to go.”

     “Huh? What’s going on?” Steve lifted his pale face, his glazed eyes trying to focus.

     “I need you to be alert. There are very dangerous people after us. We need to get to the plane. Do you understand?”          John spoke slowly, hoping the words would break through Steve’s clouded mind.

     “Just help me up and I’ll race you there.” Steve sobered suddenly, as he clumsily labored to his knees.

     John helped him and sighed in disbelief as his disoriented companion stumbled in the opposite direction. “I think you’ve been disqualified from this heat. Here, let me lead you.”

     Both scurried to the plane. It was like a nightmare as John imagined the plane getting farther away. Finally reaching it, John shoved Steve into the passenger seat.

     Running around the plane, checking for damage and remaining debris, he made a hasty pre-flight check. Satisfied, he reached to turn the power switch on-nothing.

     “Oh no, what next!” John punched the instrument panel.

     He immediately cut it off and back on. He heard the faint sound of the gyro and turned the key. Not enough power remained to start the motor. “Steve, Steve,” John yelled, shaking his buddy.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Primitive Man Meets Flying Machine

   The half naked group, armed with spears and bows and arrows, and one with a stone ax, fanned out once they neared the clearing. They moved in unison like a well-rehearsed infantry unit. Someone gave a bird call upon seeing the camouflaged airplane and the rest moved cautiously toward the source of commotion.

     John saw them move slowly toward the plane, and huddle around the leader. They looked for tell-tale signs of trouble, then regrouped as the leader gave instructions. On cue, they began removing the bushes and curiously rubbed their hands across the smooth surface of the plane. Some of them swung from the wings and struts, while others played with the control surfaces until the leader yelled a warning.

     The leader, dressed in a loincloth and wearing a necklace of bones and ornamental feathers, motioned for one of his subordinates to try the doors. The lackey finally figured how to open the pilot’s door and curiously played with the controls and buttons. He tripped the main power switch, activating the electronic gyro. The slow electrical windup suddenly turned into a high- pitched whir sending everyone scuttling for cover.

     John snickered at the comic relief, but only briefly. He needed to get Steve back to safety, and he knew the natives would soon recover from the scare. He rose to help Steve and timidly headed toward the plane. John ducked as the leader turned in his direction and pointed the others to fan out.     John knew the leader had sent out a search party. He pushed Steve down and jumped to his side, quickly pulling the poncho over them. At least the ponchos are green, John thought. Lying there, he heard the brush around him parting as a few people crept through it. They stopped within a few feet and talked. John could see their dirty feet from under the poncho and prayed they would leave before the sun revealed their hiding place.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Mystery in the Jungle

     The sun painted streaks of pale blue and yellow through the morning sky. Birds were awake, singing to anyone appreciative enough to listen. The moon was full and bright as it still sat high in the western sky.

     John listened intently. He was used to the sounds of the jungle, something he would actually miss. Gone were the distractions of machines. However, he prayed that they would soon be getting back to the plane that would take them back to their world–civilization.

     Suddenly he was aware of something new–silence. The singing had abruptly stopped, but why? Birds go silent as a survival instinct, he thought. He listened more intently, as the ground would be soft, muffling any footsteps.

     There! In the brush – a slight movement. He focused his eyes to one side of the dark, heavily vegetated area hoping to catch something in his peripherals. Behind about fifty yards, vines and branches moved in one direction as a few stealthy figures filed through. John estimated six people moving in the direction of the clearing. With any concentrated effort, the group would discover them. He nudged Steve, who had suffered with a fever since midnight.

     “Wake up,” John whispered, placing his hand over his buddy’s mouth. He waited a moment for Steve to recover from the surprise. “There are people heading our way. You’ll have to keep quiet.”

     All Steve could do was nod his head in agreement.

 Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

He did everything right. Then the church excommunicated him, his friends abandoned him, and the government executed him. What happened next will shock you.

He did everything right. He cured diseases, ended hunger, and loved the unlovable. Not only did He feel compassion for those in need, He actually met their needs and taught others to do the same. But He never received cash or Nobel Peace Prize. They simply told him to stop.

He couldn't stop. His mind was focused and his heart was determined. He knew His current course would end in personal disaster, but it would give hope to countless. He understood that he might have to give his life, but others would live.

He wasn't alone. His mission was assigned from the highest command and with utmost urgency. As a soldier leading the rescue of a lost platoon behind enemy lines, He set His mind on the goal. No one left behind.

They told him to stop, He didn't listen. They fired everything they had at him: reason, bribery, then insults, slapping, punching, lashing, piercing, and finally execution.

As He stood before his interrogator and said, "My kingdom is not of the earth."

And He kept on. He had to reach the lost behind enemy lines and knew it was more important than this life.

Without regard for his own life, He continued the mission until every order was met. In this case the orders were centuries old doctrine and prophecy outlining the tactics; avenues of approach to the ultimate goal of rescuing the lost behind enemy lines. Once He met the objective, He ended the mission on His terms. With a mighty shout He exclaimed: "IT IS FINISHED".

Though He did everything right the church excommunicated him, his friends abandoned him, and the government executed him.

Here's the shocking part; He overcame death.

Three days later His mission continued. His physical body died, but He returned as the King of another kingdom eager to rescue the lost behind enemy lines.

He forgave those who betrayed and killed him and gave them the mission.

For the next 40 days He issued instructions to his followers. First to 2, then 4, then 8, then 12, then 70, then 500. He gave them the mission: Rescue the lost behind enemy lines.

After an additional ten days, He sent reinforcements. The Holy Spirit empowered them for the mission. Though Jesus had ascended to his throne, He left a plan and a helper. Then thousands believed and they continued the mission.

Though He did everything right the church excommunicated him, his friends abandoned him, and the government executed him. But He overcame that, He triumphed over death and He lives forevermore rescuing the lost behind enemy lines. 

Jeffrey W. Bennett is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals. You can see more of his writings @ www.redbikepublishing.com

Wasn't Disturbed All Night

     “Tiom, this is Tarampura, over?” Marta’s transmission came in more clearly with the improving weather.

     Jason, Sandy, Rachel, and other pilots crowded around the radio. Rachel kept busy to keep her composure.

     “This is Tiom. Go ahead,” Rachel answered. 

     “How are you holding up, break? Have you heard anything yet, over?” Marta sounded just as tired as they did, having been in constant prayer. 

     “Not yet, but we haven’t given up, over,” Rachel responded.

     “I’m so sorry, and I haven’t given up either, break. Not with all the experience these bush pilots have, break. I’m just here if you need me, over,” Marta said groggily.

     “We appreciate your staying by the radio for us, break. The pilots are going over the flight route now and plan to fly out tomorrow to search for the... the... plane, over.” Rachel sobbed.

     “Hey,” Marta replied. “It’s going to be just fine, over.”

     “Thanks,” Rachel sniffed.

     “I think we should keep the airwaves clear. So, goodnight, break. Keep me informed if you hear anything, out.” Marta signed off the radio and looked at Numah, who smiled back assuringly.

     “Thank you all for staying up with me. You should go to sleep with your families now,” Marta said under heavy eyelids.

     “No, Marta, we spoke. We each take time to listen radio. Something happen, we wake you up. You go sleep,” Numah insisted.

      Without protesting, Marta went to bed, and wasn’t disturbed for the rest of the night.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Cold Night in the Jungle

They removed the camouflage ponchos and made a lean-to. Green and brown cover concealed their whereabouts, giving them a sense of confidence and courage. Speaking in whispers, they watched as the dismal evening turned into dark night. Each noted how the night was darker than what they were used to in America. 

There was no glow of electric lights, and in their shelter, they could barely see each other.

Sounds of the night told the story of business as usual. Nocturnal scavengers, hunters, and prey kept the darkness alive, unaware of their visitors’ fear and discouragement. The rain had let up, but they were still drenched, and with the night, cold.

“Why don’t you open that canned food? The calories will help keep us warm.” John noticed Steve’s shaking. The dampness and lowering temperatures drained his body of heat.

“I’ve got spaghetti and meatballs and some Spam,” Steve offered.

“Which do you want?”

“We can share both.” Steve’s shaking became worse.

“I think we should spoon to keep warm,” said John.

“What’s that?” Steve thought he had an idea.

“I mean, you are losing heat rapidly. This rain may be giving you hypothermia. We are drenched, and the only way to keep warm is to huddle up,” said John.

“Well, the only one I ever get close with is Rachel. Even though you are not as cute, I’ll make an exception this once.”

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Danger in the Jungle

CHAPTER 7

“Great landing,” John said. He leaned back and sighed.

“After I shut her down, we should push her into the undergrowth and try to camouflage her. Our only hope is that nobody saw us, and that Marta got our message out,” Steve said.

“What are the odds of that?” asked John.

“I’m not a gambling person. I put my trust in Marta getting the word out, and God taking care of the rest. In the meantime, we need to hide.”

The rain continued to pound down around them. The poor visibility that forced them down was now their hope of obscurity.

“We really need to go deeper into the growth and away from the plane, just in case somebody unfriendly saw us,” said Steve.

“I agree. The farther we get from the plane the better.” John looked to the south, noticing blue sky. “It looks as if it may clear.”

Steve could only smile. It was very doubtful the rain would let up soon. Fog and clouds spun around the mountains like cotton candy.

Grabbing a few ponchos, water, and snacks from the compartment, Steve and John wove their way into the forest. The canopy was thick enough to stop much of the rain, and forest sounds reminded them they were not alone. The sounds also told them there was life out there more capable of survival.

They stopped far enough away to see the plane, yet remain concealed. Steve started to move vines out of the way, but John grabbed his arm.

“Leave everything as is. You’ll be surprised at how natives would notice anything out of place.”

Both men were drenched, having put their ponchos on too late. They stood for a long time in silence. Wind whistled softly through the undergrowth and water plummeted in large drops from overhead. Somewhere to the west they could hear birds singing, and to the north small animals hopped around in the growth.

“It’s always a good idea to listen and get comfortable with the sounds of the environment. That way, if we hear anything strange we can recognize it immediately,” John said.

“Smart idea, no doubt from experience. I can’t help feeling that we may have company before this is over,” Steve predicted.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

I'm Staying Here!

“What do you mean they had to land?” Jason asked.

“It was raining! They had no choice!” Rachel shouted nervously.

Jason immediately regretted his outburst. This was no time to question her husband’s abilities. “I didn’t mean that to sound like it did. I’m sorry.”

“I understand. You can’t blame yourself for whatever decision had to be made. So go easy.”

“Look, why don’t you go take a break. I’ll handle things from here,” Jason offered.

“I am staying here until my husband gets back. I don’t know what we can do for him now, but if it’s going to be a long wait, I’ll get refreshments and coffee going while we try to figure out a plan,” Rachel said.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Not a Good Track Record

“Was that the same woman whose husband was killed?” John asked over the pounding rain.

“One and the same, a very brave and dependable woman.”

“Well, let’s hope God answers her prayers.” John rolled his eyes in defeat while considering Marta’s track record.

Eventually, John spotted the field from the passenger side window. They would have to set up the landing with Steve viewing the field from his side window. The rain was pounding the windshield too strongly, and seeing anything through it was about as effective as looking through frosted glass.

Steve performed a shallow left-hand traffic pattern as he slowly descended and flew the length of the strip. Seeing no obstacles, he circled and approached from the same direction.

Steve bled off speed, let out ten degrees of flaps, and turned left before letting out another ten degrees. He forced the nose over to keep up the present air speed and observed the field. Pulling the throttle back, he dumped full flaps just before flaring out. The RPMs were low enough to prevent anyone from hearing the engine. An eerie whistle of air rushing past the wings accompanied them through the remainder of the flight.

“Okay, you’ve got it, steady...” John encouraged while wiping off condensation from the window.



Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.