The pilot was dead. Blood trickled slowly from the nasty gash along his forehead, splattering scarlet on the controls and seat. The helicopter’s nose was pointed down and dragging the rest of the craft with it. Winding from side to side like a drunk, it dove towards the gleaming skyscrapers.
In the back, Eve hurriedly undid the clasps on her seatbelt and struggled towards the pilot’s seat. The helicopter threw her back and forth, but she held tight.
Keeping an eye out for the sniper, she pulled the pilot’s corpse aside. Glass windows loomed just ahead, reflecting her terrified face and the whirling helicopter blades. She would hit it in seconds.
Eve grabbed the throttle and pulled away as sharply as she could. The blades slashed into the glass, making a deadly, glittering shower, but the helicopter missed the building.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Eve guided the craft down.
Word Count: 150
This is for Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and Iain Kelly for the prompt photo!