“Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house, we're born
Into this world were thrown”
The radio droned on as flight crews made their final preparation to ride the lighting into Dhéǵhōm. Meanwhile I just sat back and mindlessly checked my gear one last time while trying to get comfortable in the heavy humidity. I sat there watching the storm slowly approaching and there was an air of slight anxiety that always came when it got close to launch time. Looking over the swarth of passengers I cracked a shit eating grin “Lots of new bloods” I said to myself. You could tell who was new and who was experienced from what they were doing and how they composed themselves. The new guys were the ones talking and drinking amongst themselves, some of them even taking their drugs, anything to keep the nerves at bay. The ones that have experience are checking their gear, attempting to get some sleep before the flight, or shaking down the first timers for smart electronics that could get them and their chopper killed during the ride. I take my eyes off the chaos just in time to witness the arrival of the people who sponsored this flight. A Princeton University archeological expedition that partnered with the American Museum of Natural History and the MET to study and gather artifacts from various ruins in Dhéǵhōm. They must have given the expedition a blank check because the Sons have their entire fixed wing transport fleet here and a good portion of the helicopter fleet as well. A green flare went up signalling ten minutes until launch time and everybody scrambled to their aircraft. I got into my Huey just as the last C-130 took off and the DC-3s started rolling down the runway. “Aren't they supposed to wait until the first aircraft is fully clear before sending out the second?” said the kid sitting next to me. I turn to him and say “No, we got a small window to time to get into the storm to ride the lighting down into Dhéǵhōm. So they launch the next plane as soon as the previous one is airborne.” “Makes sense.” the kid says. “Say, How many people are on this expedition anyway?” I ask completely dumbfounded at the amount of equipment being used for this ride. “You didn’t know? Every archeologist, anthropologist, professor, and student on the east coast that wanted in on this expedition joined up.” The kid exclaimed his New England accent finally coming through. “That explains why the Sons pulled out enough aircraft to move a brigade.” I said as I attached my harness to the seat “You might want to do that as well, because once we ride the lighting it is five minuets of straight freefall until we get to Dhéǵhōm” I yell over the noise of the huey’s blades as we take off into the storm.