The End

  Just to give you a break from Gone (and because I haven't been able to work on it a bunch) I am posting another one of my older stories (so, don't expect it to be good, because it isn't).
    

    The German pilot leaned over his control stick as he looked ahead through the bright sunshine.  He squinted at the sun overhead.  That was the one thing that frustrated him about flying:  there was too much sunshine and not enough clouds.  His eyes wondered forwards to the leader of the pack of Messerschmitt 109s.  As he did so, he relaxed against the back of the airplane seat.  All seemed to be going well. 

    

    Off in the distance, the sun gleamed off a wing tip in front of the pack.  He sat up quickly, and peered ahead his heart rate increasing.  It was a group of enemy airplanes!  Setting his jaw, the pilot mentally prepared himself for the battle that about to ensue.  He was an experienced pilot, but each clash with the enemy sent his stomach into an acrobatic act.

    

    The P-51 Mustangs shot past the Messerschmitts.  The German pilot, the lead plane’s wing man, jerked his control stick to the right to execute a tight turn.  It almost seemed to him as if they were on an invisible racetrack; the Americans on one side chasing the Germans on the other.  After making two large circles the Mustangs gained the advantage and pulled up behind them.  The German pilot followed the lead of the rest of the pack, and leveled out his plane.  They were going so fast that the plane was shaking.  However, the pilot could tell that the Mustangs were gaining on them.  He gulped and whispered a prayer.

    

    With a surprised jerk, the German pilot saw the last plane in the German pack roll over, and then plummet towards the ground.  He gripped the control stick desperately determined.  He must not go down! 

   

   Anger and surprise flooded him when he saw the plane behind and the plane before him, give up and pull away from the pack. Now he was the only one remaining in front of the Americans.  Cowards! 

    With grim determination, he snapped into a tight turn.  The Americans would not win this fight!  He had made the twist so quickly that the Americans were unable to follow.  With an idea begging to form he pulled behind the leader’s wingman.

    The wingman, in his surprise, broke to the left to try to lose the German.  The German pilot laughed.  He had scared this ‘brave American’.  The Mustang dove and the German pilot followed, just waiting for the right moment to blow him out of the sky.  Fear pummeled him as he realized the truth.  It was a trick!  The lead Mustang was on his tail!

    Leveling out, he made another tight turn.  The Mustang was flying too fast to follow.  The German pulled up behind the American and let out another laugh.  They had had their joke.  Now it was time for him to have fun.  Desperately, the Mustang pulled upward into a near vertical climb.  The German pilot was not going to give up so easily.  He pulled up after it.

      Suddenly, chills broke out on his arms.  What if his plane stalled?!  He took a deep breath to steady his nerves.  It was a German plane.  It would not stall.  The next second his plane shuddered; the pilot with it.  His plane was stalling! 

    “No! No!”  He furiously worked the controls as his airplane fell over backwards towards the earth. 

    He struggled to gain control in time to keep it from exploding against the ground.  He took a ragged breath and looked around for the Mustang.  With a gasp, he located it on his tail.  Once more, he pulled the tight turn.  It had to work, it always worked.  Then his worst nightmare happened.  The Mustang copied the turn. 

     Helpless, the German pilot pulled his plane into a near vertical climb, all the while knowing that his plane would stall first.  A flash of light flickered past him.  Tracers!  he realized.  He had never before hated the Americans so much.  Then some fifty caliber rounds ripped through the wing root and his canopy.  Glass flew everywhere.

    Wounded, his plane stalled and fell towards the earth.  His heart sank to his stomach as an overwhelming fear slithered through him.  He was not ready to die!  He jerked the control stick frantically, even though he followed.  There had to be some way to keep from dying! 

    Then the smoke cleared away just enough for him to see the ground rushing up towards him.  The next second, his plane slammed into the ground forming a fiery explosion.  The impact itself killed him.  There, his body lay in the burning rubbish while the American flew away unharmed.