Chapter 6: Aiden: Crash Landing

Open.

Close.

Open.

Close.

I blink slowly. My head throbs, and my whole body aches. Groaning, I manage to get my eyes open, but a blinding light makes me squint and drape my arm over my face. What the…? I roll onto my side and sit up. My eyes widen despite the harsh light, and my heart sinks. The front half of the plane is lodged between two massive trees and is on fire, the flames extending high into the sky, the heat stifling. Pieces of the middle section and the wings are scattered across the ground. And the back end of the plane is in the ocean, half submerged and half sticking in the sand.

People remain in their seats, several of them frantically trying to get out while others are passed out or… dead. Moans and groans of pain seep into my foggy brain. People are shouting for help, but the ringing in my ears deafens me to their cries. I get to my knees and double over in pain, clutching my stomach. The stench of burning flesh and aluminum fills the air and makes me gag.

"Ow… someone, please, help…" A faint, female voice to my left draws my attention. The woman who'd been sitting next to me during the flight is an arm's length away, her right leg twisted at a ninety-degree angle.

I cringe at the sight and struggle to my feet. All of my limbs appear to be in working order. I take a cautious step and wince. My knee is sore, and my legs are stiff, but I'm alive. I could be one of those poor souls burning to death in the front of the plane. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and say a quick prayer for the dead and dying before making my way over to the woman with the broken leg.

I kneel beside her. "You okay?"

She groans. "My leg."

"Yeah, I know. Is anything else hurt?"

"I don't think so."

I nod. "I'm going to have to move you out of the way of" - I gesture around me - "everything." I have no idea how I'm going to do this, or even if I can, but I have to try. It's going to be painful for her, and I'm already cringing thinking about how loud she'll scream.

"My wife! Someone help my wife!"

I look up and see an older gentleman pointing at me.

"Hey, kid. Yeah, you. Come help me. My wife is trapped under this row of chairs, and I can't lift it by myself."

"But… I…" I glance down at the woman in front of me.

She smiles weakly. "Go on. I'll be okay here another minute or two."

I swallow hard and get to my feet. I keep my gaze trained on the old man so I don't have to see all the death around me. The stench is unbearable, filling my nostrils with its atrocious odor.

"Hurry up," he screams, waving frantically.

Breaking into a run, I reach him and try to assess the situation. His wife is deathly pale, and I fear the worst, but this guy thinks she's alive and will stay that way. I don't say anything to the contrary, but she really doesn't look good.

"You lift this side, and I'll do that side. Okay?" he says.

I nod.

"Good. On the count of three, we lift and move it over there." He motions toward what used to be the window seat section of the plane. "Ready? One… two… three… lift!"

Using all my strength, I lift my side, and together, we manage to lift it away and flip it over so his wife can get to safety. My muscles burn with the effort, and I bite my tongue to stop from crying out in pain. The man kneels before his wife, wrapping his frail arms around her. His wife forces a smile. Her left arm is smashed to the point where it'll never heal.

I slowly back away and step on something that crunches beneath my foot. I look down and see I'm standing on a severed hand. "Oh, God!" I cup my hand over my mouth and jump back, horrified. There are dead bodies all around me. Twisting in unnatural ways, a pile of limbs taunts me with my horrific reality. My stomach heaves and rolls, threatening to bring up the chicken sandwich and mozzarella sticks I'd eaten hours ago. I shiver. This can't be happening. Maybe this is all some nightmare, and when I wake up, I'll be home.

But this is real. The plane did crash. People are dying by the second. And somehow, I'm alive. I don't know if I should thank God or not. I turn around to assess more of the damage. People are crying and hugging their loved ones who perished in the crash, while others are giving condolences to those who lost their loved ones. Others appear to be trying to organize the survivors and give orders. A few people are running in and out of the tail end of the plane, pulling out remaining survivors. I stand there, watching everything, unable to move despite the fact people are shouting at me to help. I don't know where to begin.

My gaze settles on the woman with the broken leg. I rush back over to her and drop to my knees, wincing at the sharp jolt of pain that shoots up my thigh. I gently touch her shoulder. "Hey." I lick my lips. "Do you want me to move you now?" She doesn't respond, and at first I think she doesn't hear me. I lean closer. "I'm back. How about we get you out of the way now?" There's still no response. Hesitantly, I put my shaky hand in front of her nose and mouth.

Nothing.

No… Please, God, no. I press my fingers to her neck. No pulse.

I gag and crawl away from her. Then I throw up. I can't believe she's dead. If I hadn't left her, would she be alive now? Is her death on my hands? I wretch again, so violently my shoulders heave with the effort, tears prickling the corners of my eyes. I inhale deeply, trying to get as much air into my lungs as possible, which only causes me to gag more. Forcing myself to move, I get to my feet and turn around. Twenty yards ahead of me is Emily. My heart sinks at the possibility she might be dead. I make my way over to her.

She's face down, inches from the plane. Dried blood is matted in her hair and covers one side of her shirt. I suck in a deep breath through my mouth and gently flip her over onto her back. I brush the hair away from her face, and I'm struck by how beautiful she is. Her skin is creamy and soft, a stark contrast to her bloodied hair and torn flesh. That gash on her forehead makes me wince in pain; I can't imagine how badly it hurts her. Her eyes are closed, and she's unmoving. My heart's racing as I lean down. Dear God, please let her be alive. Please let her be alive. I place my ear to her chest and pray for a heartbeat.