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It takes will power and nerve to hold the stick that way, to keep his eyes open and watch the rocky face of the cliff, pine-bearded, rush up at them. O’Shaughnessy’s mouth flattens, his face goes white. And then in that final fraction of a moment, he laughs, a little crazily – a laugh of defiance, of mocking farewell, and, somehow, of conquest.’Here we go, baby!’ he shouts, teeth bared. ‘Now I’m going to find out what it really feels like to fly into the side of a mountain!…’There is only the storm to hear the smash of the plane as it splinters itself against the rock – and the storm drowns the sound out with thunder, just as the lightning turns pale the flame that rises, like a hungry tongue, from the wreckage. (“Jane Browns Body”)
