Excerpts from The County of the Moon (free writing)

He watched as a single drop of dew slowly grew in size on the branch in front of him. It swelled and ballooned, the balance between it's surface tension and the gravity that was stretching it's shape was palpable. After several hours of waiting in immobile silence since they had arrived at the planned drop zone, any sort of event passed for entertainment. He wondered, not for the first time if the old lady had over compensated their needed arrival time deliberately or whether it was just that they'd enjoyed an easy journey through the woods the previous night. Setting out on these missions was generally a happy affair, the tension of this particular briefing having been broken by the prospect of what the package contained. This delivery was for them rather than stuff for the road ghettos and much as they loved their roles as benefactors, they always appreciated it when they were singled out for a boon. It was probably some new night gear or maybe even some of those electric guns the order's guards had been carrying lately. Whatever it might be would be welcome to him and his fellow rangers. The drop reached it's limit of tension and with no sense of the drama he had infused it with, released itself and splashed onto his boot. He turned his head, neck stiff, to see the ranger beside him, Truva. She was new to the pick up jobs and looked expectantly at him, he shook his head, raised his finger to his lips. Nothing to report just yet. He checked his watch, six am, they'd been ordered to get here for two hours ago but had managed to reach their spot by just after one thirty. He shivered, the damp more than the cold, breathed into his cupped palms and squeezed some tired from his eyes. A pattering sound began gently around them, this was it so he instinctively hunkered down, drawing his hood over his head. Looking around he saw the others do the same, except Truva, he motioned to her, confused for a moment but she realised what was happening. The pattering grew in frequency and intensity, you could hear pieces hitting the leaves and trunks of the trees a few metres away. They were all positioned so that the tree they were next to would shelter them from the coming onslaught of debris raining from the heavens. He squatted and turned his back from the trunk as the pattering became fiercer almost constant sound, the chunks of space metal tearing through the forest, ripping woods from the trees and embedding itself deep within them. Within the growing roar came another sound, a high whistling, resonating within itself as it became louder. This is it, the package, "Shit," he thought, "This one is coming straight for us."
He dared a glance around his cover tree and instantly regretted is, showers of wood chips spattering his face. The whistling and the roar were became much louder, he moved away from his tree and the onslaught shouting "Move back and away, we're too far forward!". He struggled to see further than a few trees away, but could see that the troupe were mostly moving, carefully crouched, their hoods drawn tightly over their heads. But Truva was frozen, he could see she was making herself as small as possible behind her shelter but it was growing thinner as he watched, the far side flayed away by micro chips of metal and paint from the heavens. He shouted directly at her "Truva! Move!". She heard him, he saw her eyes beneath her cloak, "That way!", he gestured frantically, moving himself as he could now hear the pieces hitting the thinning tree behind him. He looked again, she was still in place not moving, eyes locked on him, totally frozen. He gestured again, picked up a stick and threw it at her, it didn't make it halfway there, shredded it fell to the ground halfway. This seemed to trigger something in her, she began to move. He couldn't wait any longer so moved quickly now, to the next tree and then onto the next, glancing behind him each time he reached shelter. She was doing the same and as the moved, the noise grew a little more distant but the whistling sound became stronger and deeper. He found a spot where he couldn't hear any pieces hitting the ground and stopped, peering back around the tree to see the rangers each behind their own tree. There was a glow in the canopy of the forest ahead and then a sudden tearing crashing sound and the whistling stopped. The rangers let up a small cheer and began moving back towards the landing site as the pattering around them dissipated and the forest once again became quiet.