"Can’t speak to the latter, ol’ chap."Sinclair rises to his feet, "And that, I believe, is my cue to get the fuck out of here and get working on the algorithm."
"Algorithm?"
"Yeah," Saint unfolds his frame from the couch, "Sinner and I have been working on one to crack the stock market patterns.We believe we should be able to create an algo which predicts trends on the stock market."
"That’s bloody impressive."I jerk my chin, "And quite a feat, if you do achieve it."
"Oh, we will," Sinner smirks, "and when we do, it’s going to catapult us straight into the ranks of the richest in the country."
Money.It’s important.It’s also what landed all of us in this mess of a situation.You want it, but also don’t want too much of it to screw up your life.And shit… That encounter with whatever-it-was, when I was knocked out, has clearly, rewired my brain in some way.I’ve always been introspective, but now, it feels like I am on the verge of some kind of breakthrough.
The rest of the men rise to their feet.
"We should be off then."Saint walks over and we bump fists.The rest of the guys follow in variations of the same as they bid goodbye.They trickle out until it’s only Baron and me in the room.
"I’d best get going too."He pushes up from the chair and turns to go.
"Baron," I call out, "thank you."
He pauses and turns to stare at me over his shoulder."Don’t thank me," he growls, "just stay out of your own head for a while, will you?"
"If only it were that easy."
"It’s only as difficult as you make it out to be."
"You wanted to know the difference between chasing the high and seeking a high from the chase."
He scowls."What is it?"
"The former is me, of course.Or, itwasme."I lower my chin."The latter…is you—finding new ways to put your life on the line, and each time you walk away unscathed, wondering why you’re still alive."
"Is that your observation?"
"It’s my conclusion."
"You’re wrong."
"I am?"
"Each time I skydive, I know the risks I am taking.I have carefully trained for it.In fact," he widens his stance, "there’s a 99.99% chance of surviving a skydive."
"What about the 0.0007%chance of dying?"
"That?"His grin broadens, "That’s where the fun starts."
3
Baron
I inspect the three-ring release system on the container holding my parachute to be sure it’s clear.Make sure the straps across my chest and my two leg straps are routed through their buckles.
Then check the three handles on my straps.
Check my shoes, helmet, altimeter, goggles.
This is my third check.One check, I’d conducted after I’d put on the gear.The next, after getting on the flight.The third is now, just before I jump.That doesn’t even count my initial visual inspection when I picked up my gear.
I hadn’t been lying when I’d told Edward that I go into all of my skydives well prepared.There’s a difference between taking a carefully calculated risk versus thrill-seeking.And while I wish I could end my life every day, it’s precisely that which makes me doubly careful when I prepare for a jump.It’s almost like, every time I jump, I am daring the elements to push me over the edge, against all odds.To jump out of the plane and land on the surface unscathed.Each time I do so, I know I am using up a life.How many lives will it take for my time here to run out?
