“Flight One-Twenty-Nine, traffic on your twelve o’clock, three miles. Flight level zero-eight-thousand, is type Cessna Skyhawk,” droned the lifeless soul at Miami Center. I glanced slightly upwards and focused on the small speck miles away, moving slowly Northbound as I flew us Westbound. I reached my hand to the side of my headset and clicked on the mic, keeping a wary eye on the craft ahead of us.

“Copy, Flight One-Twenty-Nine has the traffic.” I reached back once more, switching the headset to cockpit communications. Then again, there wasn’t really a need; I didn’t have a co-pilot on this trip, although I wish I did. On short hops, hauls, and trips, I’d fly solo; yet, usually on trips and flights like this, flying great distances and covering vast areas, I’d have Collin or John as my first officer. But none of them could be available on such short notice. I can’t blame them there.

When you think about it, this seems like a waste of time and fuel and, to any other charter pilot, they’d likely agree and decline the offer to fly these guys. But with me that’s not the care. When Jonah rang me up and explained this ‘plan’ of his to me I agreed, despite how damn stupid it sounded at the time. I packed up my shit in a hurry and flew down from the cozy ol' Miramichi to hot, uncomfortable and miserable Florida for one, and one reason only...

To Fly.

Call it what you want; a hobby, a passion, an obsession even, but I live to fly. Soaring through the skies, to be one of many who call the skies their home. All this began when I was a young lad on the Miramichi watching those Forest Protection Limited TBM-E3 Avengers take-off, with radials roaring as they flew out to fight forest fires from former CFB Chatham. Ever since then any chance to fly I get, no matter how small, I’ll take it.

The constant roar and rumble of the two Pratt & Whitney Twin Wasps soothed my restless heart as I tiredly scanned my instruments, many of which showed their age with yellowing, scratches and chips aplenty. The aircraft itself is ex-military, a DC-3C, a converted C-47 retrofitted for the civilian market, which, even prior to that, served in the United States Army Air Corps. Her history was vast and interesting, and that was enough for my great grandfather. He purchased her in the sixties and it’s been with my family ever since. Sort of like a family station-wagon... sad to think I may be the last generation to fly her.

“The Mighty Canuck” is certainly getting into her years. She’s sixty-nine, turning seventy next year, and good replacement parts are getting even harder to come by. Airworthy crafts of her type are becoming rare, leaving me with the hard yet likely decision of donating or selling her in the decades to come, but until then I’ll enjoy every goddamn minute I spend with my darling. She may not be sexy as a Spitfire, as sleek as a Lightning or fast like a Mustang, but she’s mine, and not many pilots of today can say they’ve the amazing privilege to fly a magnificent, beautiful machine such as her.

Oil pressure’s stable, fuel level’s are good and temperature’s nominal. I should have 'bout an hour plus at this rate. I mused, returning my gaze to the horizon and the setting sun. The worn leather windscreen visor was already down, and my old, dated aviators kept me from being blinded by the sun. Yet I might need that agitation to keep me awake. I’ve been flying us around now for the past six hours off the Florida coastline. Not that I mind flying, but even I have my limits, and without my co-pilot, my workload doubles, effectively putting more strain and stress upon me. And the last thing I need today is more fuckin’ stress... I have enough shit to deal with already.

I looked to my right, and where my co-pilot would usually sit, sat my friend and passenger; Jonah. My girl can only carry fifteen in the cabin, so there would be more room for cargo and supplies in her current configuration. I purposely removed some seats for more cargo space, but accidentally removed one too many, resulting in the little guy sitting up front with me. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a... good kid, but when a highly imaginative twelve-year-old is told you're going to help carry out their wacky plan, they have a tendency to get highly excited. And a bit restless.

“Hey, Archangel,” Jonah began, his voice mechanized from the headset. “how long do we have until we need to go back?”

“A few minutes, tops. Then we’ll need to call ’er a day.”

“Do we really have to?”

I chuckled softly, his demeanor reminding me of myself at his age. “Yes, because I’d rather not spend the night sleeping with the damn fish. It’s been a long day, and don’t forget we have tomorrow too, Eh?” I said, my gaze fixed forward on the setting sun, and the beautiful hues that filled these Southern skies.

“Okay...” he said, letting the cockpit fall into silence, and letting me return my state of focus and concentration onto the aircraft and her flawless operation.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jonah softly asked, mesmerized by the sight. That didn’t last long...

“Yeah, it is... it surely is.” I said offhandedly, my mind a million miles away. The colour of the sky reminded me of a wonderful moment in my life years ago that happened in the skies just like this...

“... Hey, Arky? Earth to Arky?” My thoughts came crashing back to reality as Jonah tapped my shoulder. I turned to face him, internally scolding myself for my lapse in concentration.

“What's with the picture?” he asked casually, pointing to my prized, worn photo taped to the instrument panel. I smiled sadly, pulling the picture free of its home for the last two years. It showed me someone I once held very dear to my heart, standing before the flags of Canada and the United States... I admired the Canadian blonde; her long and wavy hair, those beautiful blue eyes, and her soft, loving smile...

“She’s nobody.” I said it with disdain, forcing out memories. I had enough to worry about as it was.

“She’s very beautiful.” Jonah said, breaking a thirty second silence.

I looked at Jonah and the edges in my voice smoothed out. “Her name’s Kat. She... died a few years back; auto accident. Got walloped head on by a drunk driver while a comin’ home from Fredericton.” I explained, trying to be as vague as possible. He’ll likely become apologetic and depressing if I told him the real story, it’s better this way. I looked over, forcing a smile onto my face.

“Anyways, that’s long ago, Jonah, and you didn’t know, so no harm done, lad.” I pointed out. “Now, is there, by any chance, something  to drink in the cabin?” I asked, trying to salvage what remained of the fresh, now shattered conversation atmosphere.

“Sure Ty, I’ll go see if I can find some water or something.” Jonah removed his headset, placing it around the headrest as he got up and left the cockpit, closing the door behind him. I looked back at the picture, now back in its special place on my panel. Softly chuckling, I recalled more of the “Happy Times” she and I had together before drifting back.

Kayla, why are you always right? Guess I do have feelings... I really need to move on, and continue with my lovelife.

*Bzzz, Bzzz, Bzzz*

“Oh, who the fuck could that be?” I wondered aloud. Normally, I had my phone set to favorites so that only in emergencies could someone contact me while flying. Even then, I rarely answered since I only do if it’s a serious emergency or problem. I scanned my instruments carefully; all showed normal readings. I grumbled lovely sayings of insultful Bay French before retrieving my battered, chipped, and scratched iPhone. With a few taps, I brought up my mail, which made me curious since no-one ever messaged me often by Email.

With ever growing agitation, I opened the message and began to read. Only to have my anger fade away.

From: James Hyland

To: Tyler Lynch

Subject: Very Important, please read... and I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry; there was nothing they could do. Kayla’s… Kayla’s gone, Tyler; she’s dead. If she could have gotten to the hospital sooner, maybe she would still be alive, but she was too far gone to save when she reached the hospital. They couldn’t stop the internal bleeding, they could only slow it down.

I stayed by her side until she finally passed. She spoke highly of you, “The best little brother anyone could have asked for.” She told me stories of the things you, her, and Kat did together when you were kids. I never knew Kat was your girlfriend, I know now that this makes it even harder for you to bear.

We both lost someone very close to us today, Ty. I lost the person who made me who I am. You lost your best friend and sister who meant the world to you. She had me write this down just before she died... for you:

Tyler,

It well may be,

That we will never meet again,

In this lifetime.

So let me say before we part,

So much of me,

Is made of what I learned from you.

You'll be with me,

Like a handprint on my heart.

And now whatever way our stories end,

I know you have rewritten mine,

By being my Best Friend and my Little Brother...

Goodbye Tyler. I love you. - Kayla

My hands began to shake, and my body felt so cold... so very cold...

“No... Oh Jesus no.”

Darkness surrounded me. Not the soothing darkness where you can sit alone in the moonlight and your mind can roam free. No… this was the darkness that suffocated you from all black directions, that took away your air, and, with it, your will to breathe. The darkness where invisible eyes crawled up your body, feasting as though you are their prey; where you would go as low as to deal your soul to the devil for a spark of light, only to realize that perhaps the darkness is a blessing in disguise and you don’t WANT to see what hides behind its veil; you don’t WANT to see the face of the monsters and the demons, or know of the hands that have been grabbing you, forcing you to the ground this whole time, just to—

“Hana. Hana! Hana, wake up!”

I awoke and opened my eyes at the feel of the hand shaking me back to bright, reality (a world that, truth be told, wasn’t much safer than the hell of my worst dreams). The darkness was gone, replaced with the inside of the cramped airplane, full to the brim with last light of the setting sun streaming in from the windows, and the 15 passengers, all staring at me with uncertainty in their eyes. I hastily wiped the tears from my face that betrayed my pride in my sleep, and winced as my hand rubbed against a bruise.

“Are you okay?” Reuben sat beside me, tightening the hold around my shoulders.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.” I grumbled, staring at my hands and tugging the edges of my hoodie around my fingers. I avoided his stare. I was lying, and we both knew it. “Just a nightmare… I’m a big girl, you know,” I added indignantly.

I turned to face the window, only to stare back down in my lap; the idea of being so far up in the air that houses looked like ants was not a pleasant one, and the image of me falling to an inevitable splat never was like a tattoo on my subconscious. My stomach did a few double-back flips, and I stared into the ceiling of the plane, which seemed to be getting lower by the second. Small spaces annoyed me— not enough room for my imagination— and I felt like I was in a giant elevator that never ceased its vertical climb, the tugging on my guts only all the more infinite.

“Hey, uh, Glitternight—you okay?”

I turned behind me to see one of the Brits, Matt Something-Or-Another looking at me with his blue eyes. I scowled a bit inwardly.

“I’m fine.” I said it with such a clenched jaw that I felt a grinding pain as my back teeth rubbed together. I didn’t like people worrying about me. It was supposed to be the other way around.

I looked again to Reuben, or Omega Darkness, as he was called by the fellow passengers. “You were kind of kicking me,” he muttered, giving an excuse for waking me.

“Sorry.” When the nightmares struck, I never did know how I would awake. Sometimes I awoke a sobbing mess, and others, I would kick and toss and turn in my slumber, as though I was fighting some invisible evil, until I rolled off the bed. From the way the passengers were all either staring at me, or avoiding my cold glare, I could infer that I was probably screaming this time… I hated waking like that.

Omega was used to it, but I still hated seeing that look on his face, that concern. “Are you okay?” I asked, as I tightened my grasp of his hand.

He nodded and pulled his PSP out of his pocket once more, drowning himself in the fantasy land supplied by video games— I rolled my eyes; his avoidance of the answer to my question was all the answer I needed.

Of course I worried. I always worried. It was in my blood, and who I truly was. I was the one who needed to be in control, in full control, of each and every detail, and when I wasn’t, I panicked. And here I was, thousands of feet in the air, with a group of strangers I had barely met, on this quest to find a fictional land of whimsical pastel ponies! Needless to say, I was out of my element. The control was gone, and with it, all of my peace of mind.

I glanced back again at Matt. A side of me, the side that resides deep within, that wasn’t afraid, and wasn’t worried, and did as it pleased (a side of me that I’ve buried beneath all the caution over the years, as a hard life has taught me to) noticed that he was, in all honesty, very attractive. Blue eyes, a captivatingly charming smile, not to mention a British accent that would make any girl in her right mind swoon; let’s just say it was easy to look at. He wore a conservative button top shirt, with the top few buttons opened casually. He was pretty hot; almost as hot as my man. Nice shirt, my subconscious whispered coyly. Now take it off.

I smiled to myself, pushing the thought out of my head and leaning into the warmth of my boyfriend. “Reuben,” I began, and he rolled his eyes and paused the game.

“What?” he asked, and I smiled at his annoyance.

“I love you.” I said it with a smile and puppy-dog eyes that I knew would melt even the stoniest of hearts.

He held back a chuckle and put the game away, holding me in his safe embrace once more. “I love you, too,” he whispered sweetly in my ear, “But you need to get some sleep.”

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed the idea off incredulously, even though my eyelids were heavy as bricks. “We’re on the verge of the discovery of a lifetime, and you want me to SLEEP?”

He smiled and held me tighter, pulling up the armrest so I could lean comfortably on his chest. His brown eyes twinkled through his glasses in a way I hadn’t seen in much too long. “Yes, I do.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it forced a laugh out of me.

“Y’know”, I whispered with a seductive smile, the gears in the confident and outgoing side of my mind turning maliciously through the dust and cobwebs (boy, it had been a while since I used this side of my brain). “The bathroom is big enough for two of us, and we could have some… I dunno… some privacy…”

He laughed and kissed me, one of those sweet kisses that say more than words. “I don’t think so,” he thought, looking at the passengers we would have to pass, who would all inevitably spot us entering the bathroom together. “But thanks for the offer.”

We both laughed, and a blinding multi-coloured light blazed through my window, directly into my eyes, and I sat up out of the comfort of his chest to squint through the glass at the glorious Fire Rainbow. “Reuben,” I said, my eyes wide with wonder and watering at the brightness of it all, “… I think we found what we were looking for...”

She’s gone...

Never in my life had I wanted to shout, scream, vomit, and cry the way I did then. My insides churned at the thought of her no longer living. It hurt even more that I wasn’t home, that I couldn’t console my mother. She only ever held two things dearly to her heart, and those two things would be my sister and I... and to think that she just lost her loving daughter... and I, my closest friend; my sister...

“Look, over there! See it, Tyler? A fire rainbow!” Jonah exclaimed, pointing over to the distant left. I pushed my painful thoughts, sorrow, and grief deep into my mind, something I’ve developed and honed over time after losing so many close and loved friends and family. My mourning could be pushed aside, or buried until a time I could properly deal with it. Don’t get me wrong, it still hurts; no matter what I do I’ll always feel the pain, but for now it will keep me together until I can properly cry.

I scanned the rapidly darkening twilight skies, searching for what Jonah claimed he saw, only to see stars as they began to decorate the night skies. Shaking my head, I turned the Canuck towards where he pointed to improve my sight, yet the skies still showed nothing.

“Jonah, I see nothing but clouds, distant navigational lights, and stars. Use the heading indicator and give me the direction of the cloud.” I commanded, searching the skies for the cloud he saw.

“Okay, umm... heading two-five-seven.” I slowly banked the Douglas left to the heading he gave me, seeing a speckle of colours in the distance. Well I’ll be damned, kid wasn’t seeing things. I mused, straightening out the aircraft and flying us towards the distant cloud.

“See, I told you!” Jonah exclaimed, grinning ear-to-ear.

“Uhuh, yeah, listen, Jonah. Go into the back and make sure everyone and everything is locked down, Eh? After we fly to or through this, we’re landing.” With speed and grace equivalent to a dancer, he jumped out of his seat and shot into the cabin, grinning and chattering like a madman. I re-checked my instruments, gauges, and pressures, forcing my duty as Captain to repress my surfacing emotions.

Even after this flight is over, I can’t rush home, not without ruining this as the entire flying portion of this plan rested upon my shoulders and skills. And heading home now is not an option, no matter how much I want to run on home and be with my family.... Even when the day is done, I can’t hide this. I’ll need to inform Jonah and Connor of this, of what happened...

“All is well in the back, bossman; everything is lashed down and tightly secured.” Jonah said happily, fiddling with the headset as he strapped himself back into his seat.

“Great... oh shit, lock in, Jonah, we’re going to grab some turbulence by the looks of it.” Despite how black the sky had become, the distant flashes behind the cloudbank were a sign of trouble. Likely that thunderstorm forecasted earlier this morning, wonderful. I mused, tightening my seat harness as I steeled my arms and shoulders for a fight. Once more into the fuckin’ breech, bring it on nature, I’mma ready for ya.

The “Fire Rainbow” had disappeared from sight, the storm system swallowing the cloud whole within its grasp. Normally, I’d fly above or below the clouds, but with what fuel we had remaining and the distance left to cover, I needed to punch my way through it so we could all sleep in beds instead of coffins tonight. I snapped my neck to the side, swiftly and quickly eliciting a sickly string of pops and cracks.

I let my mind commence a quick equation and determined I had a moment or so until contact with the storm. I’ve flown through storms before, but its something pilots usually try hard to avoid doing. My last flight, prior to this one, had me fly through a nasty storm system over Fredericton. The turbulence nearly brought me down, and turbulence alone has brought down aircraft before. Just by the looks of it, this storm was on par with Fredericton, possibly worse from what the weather reports stated the morning during pre-flight.

This wasn’t aiding the fact that I was responsible for seventeen lives on board; all of them, and the mutt, being my absolute responsibility. No matter what happens, a Captain is responsible for bringing each and every person aboard back down to the ground alive. I was the Captain, and this was my ship and I’ll be damned, hell or high water, before I let anything harm my passengers.

I breathed deeply, releasing a breath I never knew I had been holding in. The system within a kilometer filled my entire windscreen with the ominous storm before us. I gave Jonah one last glance, his face filled with apprehension and nervousness before I grinned to him.

“Just think of it as a rollercoaster ride and you’ll be fine.” I tightened my grip on the yoke, my words opposite of how I felt about flying into his storm. Larger aircrafts were mildly thrown about, but in an aircraft of his size? It would be like throwing a penny into a blender; only bad things can come of it.

With a flash of close lightning, I flew us into the storm, the turbulence immediately attacking us with a strong tailwind. Then a gust of wind from the side shoved strongly and my feet rammed the rudder full right to counter the yawing to the left, while my hands forced the yoke to remain center and level. To Jonah, I likely looked like a madman, the yoke twisting and leaning from side to side and front to back. My hands cried out, the violent jerking hurting my wrists from countering the heavy crosswinds. The aileron throw was severe with the powerful winds tossing us about like a toy boat in a typhoon.

“...Twenty-Three...respond, over.” my ears barely caught the static filled call over the howl of the storm and the roar of the engines.

“Flight One-Twenty-Nine to Miami Center, come in?” My voice filled with a twinge of concern as my headphones buzzed with interference. I reached over, playing with the tuning dial as my ears continued to be abused by the noisy static.

Then there was a deafening boom with a flash of lightning across the nose as the turbulence intensified. Must be the storm fucking with comms- My eyes darted across the skies before us, the lightning becoming more frequent, occurring closer to the aircraft. My battle with the shitty turbulence was the least of my problems now. Because one good lick from this lightning, and we turn into a flying can of SPAM.

The loud claps of thunder pounded my ears, which began to crackle and buzz from the high amounts of noise. My efforts keeping the aircraft level, if only barely as the sounds of distressed passengers, which barely reached my ears, were already nearing the limit of noise tolerance before pain would set in, but I already was in pain; my wrists and hands fatigued from the day long trip, now being yanked and whipped around from the winds.

“To hell with this, we gotta get out of this soup before we get fried.” I forced the yoke forward, pitching the nose down as the buffeting and crosswinds intensified. Rain began to splatter against the windscreen with our fall in altitude, the airspeed indicator dipping towards the yellow as I hastily took us down. We  broke through the cloud layer, my eyes came under assault from an explosion of colours, I was blinded from the sudden contrast from darkness to intense light.

“Jesus Christ! What the hell is going on!?” I pulled back hard on the yoke, fighting to level off, but something was forcing the nose down.

“I don't know, I can’t see a thing!” Jonah cried out, even with headset I hardly heard him over the ever increasing cry of the engines as our speed steadily climbed. My arms burned as I pulled with all my might to level off the plane, but the stick hardly moved.

“PULL UP, PULL UP, PULL UP YOU GODDAMN SUMBITCH!” The yoke shook violently, yet held steadfast against my commands. The roar of the engines began to change into a deafening scream, one that shot a cold bullet down my rattling spine. I grabbed the throttles and wretched them to idle, the engine scream changing back into a roar. I planted my feet against the deck, using every ounce of my power to pull back the defiant yoke. My eyes strained against the colourful assault, as I squinted at my gauges and instruments. The compass spun around like a drunk on St. Patty’s day, the heading indicator the same way. My altimeter spun round and round, like a clock going backwards, and the artificial horizon twirled around in its case. The fuckin’ hell is going on?!

*BANG!*

The yoke gave, snapping into my gut as the blinding dance of colors ended. My jaw clenched tightly, to avoid tearing up out of pain. Fuck!... that’ll be a nasty bruise. I blinked as my vision returned... as a large mountain filled my entire windscreen, front and center, as we left the cloud bank.

“OH JESUS FUCKIN' CHRIST!” Within a heartbeat, I shoved the throttles forward, slamming my massive boot into the rudder-pedal, and thrusted the yoke into a hard left bank. Canuck groaned loudly, the likely damaged airframe complying with my forceful inputs as we skimmed around the mountainside within a few hundred feet of death, and destruction.

“When were there ever FUCKING MOUNTAINS in FLORIDA?!” I blurted out, my brain struggling to process everything that's happened so far on this fucked up flight. Random mountains, colourful eye-rape assault, a storm from hell, and malfunctioning controls. Pain burned in my hands, wrists, and chest. Never more, have I wanted to cry out, yet never more have I wanted to vent my anger, and vast swelling emotions threatening to overload my beleaguered, strained mind.

“I don’t know, does the terrain look familiar?”

“No... nothing looks even remotely fuckin’ familiar.” The terrain below us was vast, rolling green hills across the sprawling countryside. Mountain ranges, hardly visible in the far distance. Large swaths of timberland littered the landscape below us, it looked nothing like Florida, or anything in Florida for that matter. Speckled in the distance, small settlements and developed land could be seen.

“Oh my... Arky, bring us around the mountain again. Lower, and slower if you could...” I looked over to Jonah, his face glued to the co-pilots window beside him. Whatever he sees, must be one helluva sight or a landmark.

“See something that could give me an idea of where we are?”

“Y-yeah, if I saw right. I think I can figure out where we are.”

“Fuck, alright hold on...” I eased us down, the stick resistant against my commands, but followed through. I retracted the throttles to half, watching as the airspeed began to dip lower, the engines falling into a dull rumble as I brought us around for another pass. I angled it enough so I could snag a view of what he saw, if he had actually seen anything at all.

In seconds, the plain mountain side vanished, replaced with a sight to behold... but my already crippled soul sank even more into the darkness that now cloaked my heart.

“... H-holy shit, Jesus Christ almighty I’ll be damned, Jonah.”

“It’s Canterlot... CANTERLOT! HOLY SHIT WE ACTUALLY DID IT!” A resounding cheer came from the cabin. Jonah grinned beyond what I thought was the human limit. I forced a smile across my face, watching as he literally squealed with joy. Yeah I’m smiling, but inside I’m dying...

I fought my emotions down again, knowing I still had issues to deal with Like where the hell am I going land? They don’t have anything close to a runway here, or anywhere for that matter... fuck, may have to go and bush this bitch. Can shit get any worse?

With the sound of a starving, choking radial, the universe answered. I slid the side window back, facing a wall of whirling wind as I watched the left engine die. I already knew the cause, I just feel fucking stupid that I let it slip my mind... and fuck you Murphy, you goddamn motherfucking asshole. I turned my attention back to Jonah, who already was beginning to panic.

“What’s going on Ty? W-why did the engine stop?!”

I eased the slowly falling craft to the left, away from the tall spires of the glamorous castle, and away from the surrounding residential area. Placing the Canuck on a heading towards the sprawling forest I saw to the Southeast. Clearings speckled across the vasts of timberland, and within it, I needed to land ten-and-a-half tons of speeding metal within a football field size clearing.

Shit.

“We’re running on fumes, and we’re going down and fast.” I watched as the altimeter slowly fell, as well as the airspeed indicator. I fought between the balances of speed and altitude, too much speed and I’ll run into the trees. To high, and we’ll be in the trees. At this point, many people panicked and flipped their shit like Jonah, however pilots, no matter the fear of death, must try to remain calm and collected... Or risk making mistakes during critical moments, like now.

“Mayday, mayday, mayday, Flight-November-Bravo-One-Twenty-Nine fuel exhausted, preparing for crash landing. Flying current heading of One-Seven-One into the Southeast.. There are seventeen souls on board.” My ears listened to the static, as no reply could be heard. Then again, considering our location I’m not overly surprised.

“Copy...Twenty-Nine...can..repeat..ast..” Well, that was completely unexpected. Considering the amount of hell we went through, that I went through, like I said I was never expecting a reply. And those are now my and our last words... I left the mic playing, since our odds of landing safely looked a mite shitty. At least they can piece together what happened...

“Jonah, find a seat in the cabin and strap yourself in. This is gonna be one helluva landing.” I reached down and tugged the landing gear lever freeing the gear from their housing behind the engines.

“What? Hell no, I’m staying here and helping you!”

“No dammit, listen! Unless you have a fucking deathwish and prefer me kicking your ass back there, you’ll do as I fucking say! Clear?! I’d rather you survived this, besides I’m the goddamn captain, and this is my ship and whatever I say goes!” I glared at him, I knew he knew what I knew. That I’ll likely wouldn’t survive, and if I did, I’d be one helluva mess.

“F-fine, you stubborn bastard..” Despite his firm response, the tear falling down his cheek was a sign of internal pain. Letting your friend to fight alone is a terrible feeling, especially when you can help, but can’t, at the same time, without the high chance of death.

“Don’t cry over me, I’ve had one helluva run, Jonah, I really have. And if the dark dead man of death comes a callin’ my name, I won’t hesitate to answer. Besides, it’s one-for-all, and I’ll take that over all-for-one anyday.” I said with a small smile, even here I can look on the bright side. If I die, at least I’ll be with my sister again, and fill that hole in my broken heart...

I actually look back on this moment with a bit of pride, at least at how I somehow managed to stay so… calm. Shit got very real quite quickly. Our descent was a hectic one. People were scared as hell. Me? I noticed the internet was still working, and wrote a new post. My previous post, ‘HAH! WE MADE IT!’ was already gathering comments:

It appears that the Equestrian laws of physics did not agree with our mode of transport. While I type this, ‘The Mighty Canuck’ plummets to the ground. I can’t help but recall the beginning of LOST. As it turns out, I am the only friendly Brit on this plane, as far as I know. This makes me quite confident about my survival. I will be the ‘Charlie’ of the gang, possibly with extra life included. Weirdly enough, I imagine our exceedingly young leader will survive and will be like a mini-Jack. I can only hope someone here has medical knowledge, or else they’ll have to cope with my mediocre assistance. I already know where we land will be magical. Now, I leave you with the unbelievable fact that I am quite certainly in my right mind. Perhaps I shall use my extra life now to protect a fellow passenger; chivalry and all. Wish us luck. Oh, and there’s a dog with us… not the same breed though. Stephen Massey, aka Suke.

My hands were quite steady while typing, and I didn’t make any errors. Again, I feel this is a rather impressive achievement considering the circumstances. I was probably gonna freak out later, once I survived, but now was not the time. I looked around to see if any of the younger ones needed help. I was under the impression that nineteen was one of the oldest ages, so I had a big group to choose from...

My attention was instantly grabbed by a distraught Silver Sea rushing out of the cockpit. Silver's seat was the co-pilot's, so he had no seat out here in the cabin. I undid my seatbelt and got up, holding onto the headrest for balance. Silver looked at me in horror as I signalled for him to sit.

"You can't!" he shouted. "I won't!"

"It's this or I force ya mate." He glared into my eyes, and I stared back, hopefully looking caring. It's what I was going for.

"What'll it be kid?" He stubbornly sat down and did his belt. After that he stared, concerned at me.

"What is it with you adults, putting your lives in danger for us kids?"

"I don't know. I'd say you're the next generation, but I'm too young for that. If one of us has to survive and we're somehow still in America, I'd rather it be the innocent, confused and mislead child. I'm supposed to be a responsible adult who'll just look like an idiot after all this."

"But still-"

"Oh shush it lad. We'll be fine. All of us. I promise."

"Pinkie Promise?"

"Cross my heart and stick a cupcake in my eye... I think that's how that goes... Anyway, as long as I've got a hold of these chairs, I'll be alright. Got me some strong arms."

It was then that I noticed Ghostly fidgeting greatly next to Silver. Next moment, she's out of her seat headed for the hatch, a parachute bag on her back. She was barely old enough to legally fly, and I was quite certain she was kept away from such dangers by her parents, or whoever looked after her. There was no chance in hell she knew what she was doing.

"Oh no you don't!" I grabbed her by the back of her collar, choking her mildly. I had to let go of the headrests to force Ghostly down.

"Get off! I'm jumping to safety."

"More likely killing yourself!" I disarmed her of the parachute, holding it up to start a lecture.

"Look here, Missy. I'm betting you ain't jumped out of a plane before when it was flying good, so don't go starting with a crashing plane. Arky knows what he's doing, and these planes are sturdy buggers too."

She threw the puppy dog eyes at me. Masseys are made of sturdier stuff.

"No! You're gonna sit right there and brace yourself like everyone else."

"And you?"

"Like I told Silver Sea here, I can look after myself. I know what I'm doin-" The plane hit the ground. In an instant, I was at the back of the craft. Pain and darkness came next...

The ground was rising before me, filling the windscreen with timberland, the target just visible, a small field with a few obstacles decent enough for a landing. I’ve landed in fields before, however not like this, fighting to stay aloft long enough to even try to land, not to mention there’s no chance of a go-around possible.

“O-on-on-one Hundred” I laughed aloud; out of all the fucking times for that stupid electronic piece of shit to work, it picks now. I could feel the tears rolling down my face, the yoke vibration increasing as I neared the stall limit.

“Fifty” branches shattered against the wings and raked the underbelly as we entered the clearing.

“Forty” The right engine sputtered, coughed, and choked before dying out, letting an eerie silence take hold. I struggled to keep my calm.

“Thirty”

“Twenty” The ground rushed past the windscreen, my heart raced as I held us steady.

“H-hey Ka-Kay, don’t worry about being alone up there...” I mumbled softly, as I allowed the to pressure release.

“Ten” “Cause I’m a comin' home!” The plane struck hard and fast. My head slammed forward, catching the yoke full force, plunging me into a cold, dark, and silent abyss...

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