Island
By Sagexas
Chapter One
Crash
The groaning of the metal as the air pressure squeezed the hull of the plane was almost deafening. But it was nothing compared to the sudden scream as the pressure tore the hull apart as if it was nothing more that tissue paper, causing of sort of pop in the cabin as the pressure suddenly equallized, throwing the four occupants of the plane from the nose, to the rear.
Jack was distinctly aware of the terrified screams of the pilot and the other two passengers, and was only dimly aware that her own lungs were contributing to the sound. Her mind was numbed, blanketed from endorphins and andrenaline that seemed to block her receptors from the agony in her legs, making it hard for rational thought to get a foot hold.
The dark black silken blanket that was growing ever closer out of the front of the Cockpit window, began to take a violent looking sheen to it's luster. Jack in a strangely calm way noted the massive storm driven waves that beat into each other, white foam being swept from the crest of the waves with the sheer force of the winds.
It seemed like an eternity in slow motion, Jack with a hormone enduced soberity calmness, watched as an overhanging metal rung that was the rib cage for the interior of the tiny plane, loose it's fight with the ever-increasing strain as the outside hull buckled and twisted away from the plane. Jack felt like every sinew and muscle had been cast from lead, and could only watch as the huge metal rung fell with incredible accurary and force, carving through part of the pilots skull like it was butter. Pink goo stained with the dark red of his blood splattered the side of what little remained of the plane's intact hull.
Another sheet of metal yanked itself free from the hull, sucking the middle aged woman who was unfortunate enough to be in front of it at the time, out with it. Her blood streaked around the jagged edges of the metal sheets. Jack heard the sudden groan of the metal behind her, heard a rivet pop. Common sense finally found it's way to her mind, engrossed itself and she threw her head between her knees, her hands on the back of her skull.
At that exact instant, the plane collided with the ocean with enough force to crumple the first half of the plane with the energy exerted. Jack felt her chest and waist erupt into searing agony as her belts took the brunt of the force, but she had no time to dwell on it. Almost instantly, she was under water, her eyes and mouth burning from the salt. She screamed, coming out as a muffled blurred burst of bubbles under water, and she struggled maniacly, forced her hands to undo the belt and kicked free. She swam across the tube, out the hole that the woman had been sucked through and kicked like mad for the surface, that was already far away.
Lungs screaming, limbs aching, mind in chaos, all she could do was kick and paddle. Some small part of her felt horribly guilty for not helping the other man still in the plane, but he had been knocked down at the initial attack on the plane, and hadn't moved since.
Hope!
She burst through the surface of the horribly turbulant ocean, only to get dunked by the massive surging swell without fully refilling her lungs. A moment later and she surfaced again, gasping to get precious oxygen in her lungs. She knew she was crying, she knew she was freezing cold, but she focused herself on moving through the water, trying not to drown in the heavy swell.
A glint in the quarter moon light and she could of cried in relief. Instead she moved towards it, timing herself as the next wave passed beneath her, before she threw herself at the sheet of metal, avoiding it's razor edges and sprawling on the surface of it. She lay there for a moment, heaving, catching her breath, tears pouring from her eyes as shock began to settle in. She forced her mind to keep itself in check, forced herself to breath properly, but she knew she could do little to stop shaking. She watched cautious as her make shift raft rode the swell, up then down, without getting dunked under the water.
Utterly exhausted from her ordeal, vivid flashes of gruesome deaths still fresh in her mind, she lay her head down and fell into unconsciousness.
The first thing that Jack's mind registered was the agony in her body. Every muscle ached from the abuse, and her legs were in searing pain from the chair that had crushed her in the initial impact. She groaned loudly, her eyes far too sore to open against the harsh sun light. She tried to roll over, felt the metal underneath her shudder suddenly, forcing her to panic, and she bolted upright.
Her head throbbed, her limbs protested and her eyes burned and blurred, but she assesed herself anyway. Her make shift raft had beached itself on a small island beach. White sands, crystal waters and huge shady palm trees for about three miles in each direction with a huge gray rock mountain in the middle. But it showed no immediate signs of civilisation. Still aching, still tired, she knew she needed to rest. Jack painfully rolled off her make shift raft, into the shallow waters and sand. She groaned hoarse, rolling onto all fours, and crawling through the fine sand. It might as well as been razors, all the pain it caused her bruises and open wounds. She managed a few feet, under a shady palm, before she collapsed again.
Standing barely six feet from her now unconscious body, sumberged in the dark cool shade that folliage offered was a tall lean man. His eyes were cold and calculating, as if truly deciding what fate the girl would have. Eventually her sighed nasally and turned, walking away.
If Jack only knew, that laying there defenceless, she had come so close to death.