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I look below, and Storm is unwrapping the canvas tarpaulin that usually keeps the tools in the back. As she pulls on the safety goggles, I talk through gritted teeth. “Come on baby, move it.”
I check the fuel gauge, and see it’s now entering red. Next, it will flash.
This, here and now, totally insane.
As Storm steps towards the big falcon, I see her mumble something. The predator flaps its free and large powerful wing, and it opens its lethal beak, and hisses.
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I make my way around the falcon, on the unstable and small swampy island. Now, behind the huge bird, I inhale, and pounce.
As the falcon screams, and flaps, it tries to peck and claw me. I close my eyes, and try to wrestle it, as it cries out and hisses wildly.
Above, the chopper is stationary, but the sound of the blades adds to the chaos.
As I try to hold the falcon still, it flaps its huge free wing, and its lethal talons strike out.
I attempt to contain it with the thick canvas, without losing an eye, fingers, my nose, or an ear.
I snake around the snapping head, and it’s beak is inches from my nose. The predator is savage, but finally as I yell loud, I wrap the canvas over its body and head. As I cradle it in one arm, I use the pliers, and cut fast.
After pulling the cut fishing line from its wounded wing, I leap back, and away from it.
The falcon stands and cries out angrily, before it tries to flap both of its wings. One is clearly powerful and wide, but the other isbroken.
The Peregrine is unable to fly, and it’s now obvious it will die.
As I fight to breathe, I drop to my knees. My desperate eyes finally meet the falcon’s. I shake my head, and cuss loud into the sky.
Standing, I walk towards the falcon. “Don’t you dare move!”
As the Peregrine backs into the shallow icy water, I pause, then follow it in.
I wade into the waist deep sea, and the icy water sucks all the air from my lungs. I have trouble breathing, and I feel my legs start to numb.
My legs become hard to move, and the water filled boots are so F-ing heavy. As the mud sucks my boots down, it becomes almost impossible to move.
Carefully, I back step onto the small island, and I yank off the heavy boots.
Now, in Lorenzo’s winter socks, I drop into the waist deep water. As I drag the heavy canvas, I stare out the furious Peregrine.
The bird flaps, and hisses for its life. Neither of us will last long, that much is clear.
“Stay still!” I command, yelling and circling the hissing creature.
Finally, I out maneuver the falcon.
I leap on the terrified bird, and we both go under. As ice cold water enters my clothes, I cannot see what is happening.
Seconds later, we pop up, both gasping.
I wade back through the cold water, the hissing falcon wrapped up like a flapping killer rugby ball.
My feet are numb, my fingers are numb, and the icy water is making it impossible to breathe.
I make it back to the swampy island, but I have no energy to climb onto it, and out of the water. I pause, and I cannot go on.
