It was like watching a film in slow motion.

The crack came first, the creaking of metal as it buckle and snapped with the pressure then the rolling boom of the explosion and it flowed from the broken engine, sending shards of casing and craft everywhere. He watched as his brothers where thrown back by a cushion of air and metal ripped up drift., as they rag dolled, rolling and cracking against the unforgiving ground.

Alan watched as Scott slammed against a tree, falling to the ground, pawing at the blood that streamed from his neck with numb arms, leg twisted and the blood that bloomed across his chest in a beautifully macabre fashion that reminded him of flowers in opening for the morning sun.

Virgil rolled, bouncing, becoming tanged in chains that had lain hidden in the dirt, that they had missed to clear as iron bit into this soft flesh before vanished from sight over the ridge, for a moment the chain pulled taught and something cracked, metal or bone he couldn't tell but the line came loose, whipping after and out of sight.

Alan is stunned. he is welded into place, body unmoving. He can feel the hit, the air being sliced as blades of metal shoot past his face, feels the heat and the rolling wall of air that pushes him off his feet and on to this back. He falls the mushy ground cushioning his fall as rain beginnings to fall vertically again and a terrible silence settles in beyond the ringing of his ears, but he still can't move.