A Change Of Plan
The takeoff had been smooth and the plane was now gliding over the Atlantic, towards Iceland. The small craft could only carry a few passengers, and seated snugly in a corner was a nervous young woman. Her dirty blond colored hair that usually hung loose reaching the middle of her back, was tied up in a messy bun. She stared at a magazine page thinking about the recent events that had lead up to this terrifying flight. Ava Livingston had been given the opportunity to go to an outpost in Iceland over the summer to observe the local wildlife. It was the chance of a lifetime. She loved working with animals but wasn't sure what kind of career she wanted. She hoped this would help narrow down her choices. Ava had always been fine with flying, but the fact the place was so cramped, and they were flying over open ocean, in turbulence, was what terrified her.
Glancing out the window she saw dark clouds surrounding them and white specks flying past. It had started to snow. Ava had lived in Florida all her life. Her bright highlights, and bronze tan were sure signs she was a girl who spent lots of time outside, soaking up the warm sunshine state rays. Ava was a bit disappointed to give up her summer of sun for snow and ice, but this was an opportunity she did not want to miss. She gasped as the plane jerked in the strong winds. The visibility out the window beside her became close to none. Just looking out the window made her shiver. Her soft sweater, thick coat, and several layers of leggings and pants kept her cozy. But she couldn't help thinking about the storm raging just outside the window. She decided to try and get some sleep. The flight was going to be a long one and there was no use staying awake to worry. She pulled her hood up, leaned against the wall, resting her head on the fur lined hood, and drifted off the dreamland.
She awoke to a sharp pain in her head. Even the seatbelt, secured tightly around her waist couldn't keep her form bouncing. Ava rubbed her eyes trying to remember where she was, and figure out what was happening. The plane jerked one way, then the other, tossing Ava against her neighbor. The man was already in a bad mood, and Ava's accidental assault put him over the edge. He loosed a string of curses at her, drowning out her sincere apology. She rubbed her now throbbing head. I must've hit it on the wall while I was asleep. Ava thought to herself.
The plane tilted one way, and then straightened out again. Then it jerked to the other side. The small craft was tossed around in the storm like a paper airplane near a fan. The sound of the motor slowed and the plane angled down. Oh we must finally be landing. Ava thought with relief as she looked out the window. She was greeted by the sight of nothing but snow dancing in the gale. She could see no more than a foot or two out the window. The plane began to level out, before tipping at a horrible angle. It swayed and bounced as the pilot tried desperately to level it out. Suddenly there was a sickening jolt as the plane collided with the waves. Ava tensed and braced herself against the wall as the plane skipped and hit the water again. They were slowing down tremendously each time they met a wave. The plane gave another jerk as the nose hit a wave head on, the water washing over it.
The plane was no longer moving. It swayed with the waves and slowly sunk as water rushed in every crack. Ava could hear the waves beating against the hull, tearing the place apart. Chaos broke out as the other passengers realized they were sinking. Suddenly everyone was out of their seats. Yelling, screaming, and trying to get off the plane. Ava looked under her seat, but this was no fancy airline. She couldn't remember where she had been told the life vests were. She pushed and shoved her way up to the front. Knocking on the door, she entered the cockpit. She found the pilot still; he was slumped over the dashboard with blood dripping from the wounds on his face. "He must've hit his head in the crash." Ava mumbled despite the fact he could not hear her.
Various buttons and switches covered the dashboard of the cockpit. Many dials had their needles flicking back and forth, and dozens of different colored lights blinked. Ava couldn't understand what any of it meant, so the plane's controls were no help. Looking out the windshield, Ava could see the nose of the plane, now crumpled up from the wall of water it had hit. "We really hit that wave hard." Ava commented to no one in particular. She began sifting through the piles of junk in the closet. She quickly found an inflatable raft in a small box. She left the cockpit and headed to the door. Suddenly the raft was snatched from her. She couldn't see who had grabbed it, because they had already disappeared in the crowded area. It was probably that guy sitting next to me. She thought bitterly. The door was opened, and she saw the other passengers begin to file out. As the plane quickly emptied, Ava was able to see what they were doing. The raft was floating in the water, holding the majority of the passengers. The last person in front of Ava jumped on. She moved up to the opening, and prepared to jump. But before she could the raft was swept away by a mighty wave. The rest of the passengers didn't seem to notice Ava standing in the doorway of the sinking aircraft.
"They left me!" she exclaimed angrily.
Ava looked around. Besides her, and the pilot, there were two other passengers sitting in their seats, petrified with fear. A loud groan came from the metal as the left wing was ripped from the plane, taking a large portion of the hull with it. Water now flooded through the gaping hole in the side of the aircraft. Before Ava could think of anything to do she heard the metal moaning again. Ava gripped the door to the cockpit to keep herself steady as the plane was ripped in two, separating the tail from the nose. Now Ava and the pilot were separated from the two passengers. The separated ends were now small enough to be carried by the waves, and were swept apart. She could no longer see the other end of the plane, so she couldn't tell if it had sunk or if it was still floating.
The part Ava was on continued to rock fiercely in the waves. The aircraft began to tilt, gaining speed going into a roll, and starting to turn upside down. Ava scrambled out the door before it went underwater and out on the wing. Grasping at the seams in the metal, and the tiny nubs of the bolts, she began to climb the hull to stay out of the frigid water. The wind was cold and sharp; it bit at any exposed skin, and whipped her hair around. The icy metal was slick and the chill of it burned Ava's hands. Her fingers felt stiff and sore as she pulled herself up another few inches, holding on to nothing more than the heads of a few bolts.
Not only did she have to hold herself up, but keep herself from being blown off the hull. The wind blew in powerful gusts, coming at her from the side. A burst caught her by surprise and ripped her from her foothold. She hung by her two hands, gripping the torn edge of the hull for dear life. The edge of the metal where it had ripped cut into her hands. She could feel drops of blood trickle from her fingertips. She forced her cold, stiff fingers to curl farther around the edge, as she was losing her grip. She kicked her feet frantically looking for a foothold, before her fingers slipped, slicing her palms on the shredded metal.
She slid down almost two feet before she caught a hold on a seam in the metal. It scraped her fingertips that were quickly becoming coated in sticky blood. The blood on her hands was slippery, making it even harder to hang on. But she could lose her grip the plane rolled over, plunging her under the freezing waves. The wing came under as the plane continued to roll, pushing her farther down.
Thankfully the water-resistant layers of her thick coat floated easily, shooting her up to the surface with little effort. As her coat took in more water, Ava's thick clothing, now saturated with icy salt water, began to weigh her down. She struggled to stay at the surface.
Surprisingly a small piece of hull floated, and was bobbing in the waves not far away; she spotted it and began to swim towards it. Just as her coat began to drag her down, Ava reached the piece of floating wreckage and pulled herself up onto it. Her wet clothes chilled her in the cold wind. She wrung out her hood and pulled it up over her head. She pulled her legs in close to her chest and hugged them. Though saturated with water, her coat still kept out the wind, so only the wet clothes under it chilled her. Ava sat there, shivering on her little life raft as the blizzard raged around her, and the plane disappeared from sight.
Ava was exhausted and lay down on her stomach to rest. She knew falling asleep in freezing temperatures such as these would be deadly, so she forced herself to stay awake. This wasn't as hard as Ava had expected. The remains she rested on were icy cold against her bare cheeks and hands, and she had to focus on keeping her weight equally distributed so the raft wouldn't tip and roll her off.
Her hands had stopped bleeding, but stung furiously. Ava rested her eyes and held on. After several hours Ava noticed it was still. The waves had calmed, the wind had ceased, and it was no longer snowing. Ava opened her eyes and sat up. She was now surrounded by thick fog. She couldn't see any more than twenty feet in any direction. The fog blocked out most of the sunlight, leaving everything a dark gray. Ava felt utterly alone and lost. She couldn't escape the feelings of despair that overwhelmed her. A tear made its way down her chilly cheek and landed on the metal hull with a tap. Others soon followed. Ava was no crybaby, but she couldn't hold it back any longer. She lay down again and began to sob.
Several hours had passed since Ava stopped crying. It had become lighter, and the waves were still calm, but they were much stronger. They seemed to carry her farther with each one. Ava was becoming irritated with the constant swaying and rocking. She wished for just a moment of stillness. She felt that she couldn't endure it much longer. But she had no choice. She lay on her raft, anger brewing at her helplessness. After a while she felt the raft jolt when it hit something. Ava sat up and looked around. She had washed onto a beach.
"Land!" She screamed, "Oh sweet still land!"
Ava was wobbly, but it didn't stop her from wading to the beach and letting herself drop to the ground. That was a mistake. She was met with the unpleasant feeling of pain. The shore was covered in pebbles, which dug into her back as soon as she hit them. But she didn't care. The momentary pain couldn't dampen her delight at being on land. She had hope now.
After a short time of savoring the stillness, Ava hauled herself off the ground. Pressing her palms against the stony shoreline hurt terribly, and left grit in the cuts. She gingerly lowered her hands into the algid water. The intense burning that resulted was evidence the salt water was cleansing the wounds on her hands. She shook her hands dry and scanned her surroundings. There were high cliffs lining the beach. They went on as far as she could see in either direction. Ava began to follow the bluff to find a low area where she might be able to climb up. There wasn't much to look at. Just rocks, ocean, cliffs and mist.
Ava walked for hours, her hope dwindling when she came to a dead end. The cliff came around and the beach ended. But the crest was low, and Ava could see the top. She estimated it was about thirty feet high, although the face was rocky, it looked like she could climb it. She was not looking forward to putting her lacerated palms through the abuse of climbing the face of a cliff, but she had no choice. She grabbed the cliff, found a foothold, and began her ascent. Her imagination ran wild with what she might find over the edge of the cliff.
About halfway up, she began to grow fatigued. Either the cliff was bigger than it looked, or Ava wasn't as good a climber as she thought. It didn't matter what the reason was she had gone too far to turn back now. She pressed on, determined to reach the top. Despite the chilly air, internally she felt very warm, and she was panting from the activity. Reaching for a rock embedded on the edge of the cliff, she began to pull herself up, almost over the edge, when the rock came loose, and her hand slipped. The rock cut into the gash on her hand, ripping it open again as the rubble tumbled down the side. Ava almost fell with it, but she reacted quickly, and held tight with her other hand. Her injured palm burned as she dangled on the face of the cliff trying to regain her footing. When she finally found it, she stood there a minute to catch her breath.
"Too close." Ava scolded herself.
She reached for another handhold, this time a sturdy one. She hauled herself over the edge, and rolled away from the cliff. Ava lay still, sucking in ragged breaths. She had to calm herself before she looked at her hand. The cut wasn't dangerously deep, but blood had already began running down her arm, and dripping off her hand. It stung from the various dirt and debris that had clung to it as she made her way over the top of the cliff. Ava ripped off a small strip of fabric from one of her undershirts, and wrapped her reopened wound tightly. She stood up, and took in her new surroundings.
Her shoulders slumped and she let out an exasperated sigh. Nothing but forest was over the edge of this cliff. The tall evergreen trees towered over her, while the saplings and underbrush concealed the rest of the woods. Ava let out another frustrated sigh as she trudged into the woods.