Chapter 1
"Unpleasant Landings"
It was officially the worst plane ride of my life, and I HATE planes. They always make me feel nauseous, and that's on a smooth ride. Any sort of turbulence comes along and I'm certain the plane will come apart, shattering in midair, killing us all. That's usually the point when my sister rolls her eyes at me and tells me I'm being paranoid.
Except this time she was wrong.
I was on a flight home from Australia; I'd been visiting a cousin of mine. He'd always been trying to get me to come down for a visit. I figured now would be as good a time as any. It had been a fun enough visit, I suppose. The flight home on the other hand...
It was simple enough. I would catch a round flight, stopping at LA, before ending up in the Toronto airport in Canada, my native country.
The flight was taking a lot longer than it was supposed to and I was starting to become uneasy, when the turbulence hit. There was a shudder and then the plane split in two. The tail end fell away from us, sending the front end plummeting. I can barely remember it. The actual crash is very blurry in my mind. Just flashes mostly.
I remember a man in a business suit, very fancy, very good quality, getting hit in the head with a briefcase and passing out. An unfortunate woman getting sucked right out of the plane, screaming all the way. A Korean man and his wife sitting in the same row as me began speaking in rapid fire panicky sounding Korean. I just screwed my eyes shut and prayed it would be painless. There was an awful lot of screaming.
The emergency sirens began blaring throughout the plane, it seemed a bit unnecessary, at this point everyone knew there was an emergency. I puked up the light snack I had earlier. The oxygen in the plane was dwindling when the air masks finally dropped down from the compartments. Even with all the chaos I still managed to slip my mask over my face.
The plane groaned as the hull began rupturing. As if the crash wasn't already bad enough the cockpit and first class section of the plane decided to separate from the fuselage. The plane was now in three parts and I had an amazing view of us free falling. The cockpit spun away but I had no idea where it went, I was too busy crying in fear.
The fuselage plummeted towards some sort of tropical island. An Island? I thought we were heading to LA? The island rushed up to meet what was left of the plane. The impact sent a shockwave through the plane, rupturing my seatbelt. I was pitched through the air, limbs flailing, and I hit sand, face first. My nose crumbled on impact and I blacked out.
I came to rather quickly, my head throbbing with pain. The blood running down my chin was caked in sand, my nose flattened against my left cheek. Crap, I've lost a contact. I forced myself to my hands and knees, glancing around with the one eye I could see from.
The beach was littered with flaming pieces of wreckage from the plane crash; one engine was still running, drowning out almost every other sound with its groaning. People were everywhere, some lying unmoving in the sand, others running around screaming. The sounds overwhelmed me and no matter how much I forced my hands over my ears I couldn't stop the noise. Deciding to move I climbed shakily to my feet, looking all around me. I saw a man come dashing into the chaotic scene from the jungle.
He was tall, well built, wearing an expensive suit, his tie was eschew and his face was covered in scars. The hair on his head was a deep brown and there was a small amount of scruff on his chin. He took one look at the scene and came dashing in.
"Help me! My leg is pinned!" I heard a hoarse scream coming from behind me. I turned to see, out of my good eye, a middle-aged man, his lower half trapped underneath a piece of metal. He was pushing frantically at it but it was useless, the man was trapped.
The man in the suit dashed over to help him without a second's hesitation. Despite all his tugging and pulling the man in the suit just couldn't dislodge the metal. The pair was dangerously close to the engine, which had begun to belch black smoke by this point.
He looked over and saw me standing around. A few other guys stood behind me, not knowing what to do.
"Hey!" He yelled waving us over, "Give me a hand with this!" I came dashing over as fast as I could, while seeing out of one eye. An older man and some other guy followed as well but I couldn't really get a good look at them.
"On three!" The man in the suit called out, trying to be heard over the groaning of the engine. "One...two...three!" He counted, signaling at us to lift the wreckage. We did so, giving all we had as we slowly forced the metal chunk upwards. I could feel the sweat dripping down my back with the effort, the wreckage wasn't light. The man in the suit used the gap we'd opened to drag the trapped man out from under the metal. The formally trapped man's leg was shredded, his pant leg soaked in blood. If I hadn't already puked on the plane I probably would have at that point. I don't like blood.
The suited man took his tie off, wrapping it around the wounded guy's leg over the gash with the speed of a practiced physician. He looked over at the other two guys and then back down at the fallen man, "Okay, you two get him away from the engine! Get him out of here!"
The older man nodded and the pair began dragging the wounded man away.
"What about me?" I asked the suited man, squinting out of the eye I could see from.
He looked at me like I was crazy. I guess I shouldn't have thought that he'd treat me seriously. I wasn't even twenty, only half way through nineteen, trying to see out of one eye, blood dripping from my broken nose. Then again beggars can't be choosers.
"Help me! Anyone!" Another voice, this one feminine, screamed, trying desperately to be heard over the din of all the other sounds.
The man in the suit waved at me to follow him, "Come on!" He took off in the direction of the screaming after signaling me. Jumping some of the wreckage that blocked his path barely slowed him. I said a quick prayer and followed the suited man, hoping I wouldn't run into anything in my half-blind condition.
I dashed across the beach, tripping over something in the process and fell on my face. Quickly I scrambled to my feet, dashing after the man in the suit. He was only a few paces ahead of me and being on a track team kept me in shape. I was able to keep pace with him.
The woman who had screamed was hunched over, hands on her knees, face twisted in agony as I arrived. The first thing I noticed about her was that she was pregnant, very pregnant. Then I saw how beautiful she was. She had clear blue eyes and long blonde hair that framed her face, which looked sweet even though it was twisted in pain.
"I'm having contractions!" She half cried half screamed at the man in the suit, clutching her enlarged belly.
The man was clearly a doctor, because he didn't even seeming fazed, "How many months pregnant are you?" He asked her in a soothing voice.
"I'm Eight months pregnant," the woman managed to gasp back to the doctor. She had a very thick Australian accent. I didn't know anything about medicine or babies, so I just stood there, trying to look helpful.
"How far apart are they coming?" He asked her in that same calm voice, while simultaneously surveying the chaos around us.
"I don't know," She stammered, "They just happened." I glanced around, following the doctor's gaze; a young athletic looking man was trying to give CPR to a black woman. He didn't appear to be having much success.
The pair of guys we'd left were soldier-walking the wounded man away from the engine as fast as they could. That's when some guy I didn't recognize walked too close to the engine. I saw the older man waving frantically to get the new guy's attention, probably warning him to keep his distance. The other guy didn't seem to hear.
The doctor was talking to the pregnant woman, holding her hand and telling her some medical things I didn't understand, when the new guy was sucked right up into the engine. This caused the engine to explode. It erupted like a geyser, flames shot in all directions, and the shockwave from the explosion flung everyone backwards. The doctor hunched over the pregnant woman, shielding her with his body.
I fell onto my back, hitting the ground hard. The wind flew from my lungs as stars flashed before my eyes. Shards from the engine flew in all directions, having a bullet-like effect on everything they hit. Everyone I could see hit the sand, me, well I had the advantage of already being on the ground.
The doctor pulled the pregnant lady to her feet as soon as the shrapnel stopped, speaking to her again, something about her 'being okay' I didn't catch it. I was too busy trying to get up.
The woman could only moan by this point but she seemed to be okay. The doctor looked over at the young guy doing CPR and grimaced.
"Take care of her okay!" He told me, "Hey you!" He shouted at a different person who had been standing around aimlessly. The guy was very heavyset, with a mop of curly brown hair on his head, his face blackened with soot. He came over slowly, as if fearing he'd fall flat on his face for no reason.
"Listen you two," the doctor told us, very business like. "I need you to get her away from these fumes. Take her over there and stay with her." He pointed at a piece of the plane wreckage, one clear of flames. "Do you understand?" I nodded. This guy seemed like he was a leader type and I followed his orders without question. We could always argue chain of command later.
"If her contractions occur less than three minutes apart call for me okay?"
"Got it!" I told him, trying to sound optimistic.
The heavy-set man didn't share my enthusiasm. "Dude, you've got to be kidding me..." He began, looking at the woman.
The doctor held the woman's hand and spoke to her in his calming voice, "I need to go now but I'll be back soon, you'll be okay."
"Thank you," The woman gasped back as he began to take off.
The big man looked at the doctor as he dashed away and shouted, "Hey! What's your name?"
The doctor looked back, "Jack!" He shouted at us and like that he was gone.
I knelt down, next to the woman and wrapped my arm around her, sliding her right arm over my shoulder to help support her. "Take the other arm," I told the heavyset guy, "We can walk her away without causing her too much pain."
The big guy followed my lead. "Not a bad idea dude," he grunted, as our unusual trio began hobbling toward the cover.
The pregnant Australian kept thanking us between groans, I didn't hear. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, trying to move as fast as I could without straining her. She wasn't light, even with the other guy's help.
"I'm Alec by the way," I told the big man, "You got a name?"
"Hurley," he grunted as we kept moving towards the wreckage of the fuselage. "Claire," The woman gasped out, managing to avoid grimacing.
"What?" I asked her, as me and Hurley kept her moving.
"I said Claire, that's my name." She told me with a slight grin on her face, despite the pain movement must have brought her in her current state.
"That's a nice name," I told her, blushing as soon as I said it. What a stupid thing to say! A nice name indeed!
"Dude, you okay?" Hurley asked me from the other side of Claire. "You're all red and stuff,"
"I'm fine," I replied with a fair amount of chagrin, "I'm just a bit sunburned, that's all."
"Thanks again," The Australian grunted. No one said anything after that, we simply tried to get Claire over to the shade. It was difficult but we managed, sweating as we arrived. I collapsed into the sand in a sitting position with my back to the fuselage, the other two followed suit, Claire managing to keep a hand on her belly as she sat.
Hurley wiped his forehead with the back of his meaty hand, "Whew. That was harder than I thought it would be."
"I'm sorry, I have a lot of baggage," Claire replied, a pleasant smile on her face, her accent giving the words an interesting tinge.
"Glad to help," I replied, sitting next to her.
"So Alec," Hurley asked, trying to strike up conversation, "How long do you think it'll be before everyone calms down and chills?"
I looked around at the screaming, panicked people, "Probably a few minutes yet..." I paused as I heard something creak.
"Hey man? You hear that?" I asked Hurley
That's when I noticed Jack, dashing towards us at top speed waving his arms frantically, "Move! Move! Get her up! Get her out of there!"
Both Hurley and I looked up to see the wing on the fuselage straining and falling towards us.
"The wing!" Jack shouted, though by this point it was obvious to us what was happening.
Grabbing one of Claire's arms, Hurley moved instinctively. I took the other, leading us away from the falling wing at a sprint, Jack close behind us.
We put a good bit of distance from the wreckage before the wing hit the ground, and exploded.
The resulting explosion pitched all four of us onto our faces, hard. My broken nose bent over to my right cheek, sand rubbing into the wound.
Behind us the wing explosion ignited many of the plane parts as the remains went up in flames, leaving my ears ringing from the noise.
Then, just like that, it was over and a strange sort of calm descended over the survivors. Most of them stopped screaming, though the moaning of the injured continued. Hurley rolled onto his side, spitting out a mouthful of sand, Claire sobbed a little and I didn't even bother trying to get up this time.
Jack was on his feet before Hurley had even starting rolling over.
"You okay?" He asked Claire. She nodded, "You?" He asked Hurley. The big man gave a similar reaction without much enthusiasm. "What about you?" He asked looking at me.
I raised my hand, my battered body lacking the willpower to speak.
"You two stay with her okay?" Jack told us before dashing off to help the others.
"Dude," Hurley replied, forcing the words out, "I'm not going anywhere."
I couldn't agree more. So I proceeded to pass out.