The sheen coating my eyes waned, offering me a glimpse at the interior of the crashed aircraft. I turned my head and scanned the plane.
Anna’s seat sat bare.
Exposed wires dangled from the ceiling like colorful snakes. White and yellow sparks flickered and flashed bright before me from the frayed ends. I blinked against the brilliance.
A brisk breeze rushed the busted split windshield of the cockpit, sending a shiver down my spine and goosebumps forming along my arms. The outer rim of the window was lined with sharp fragments of glass.
My fingers fiddled with the seat belt, struggling to undo the latch. It clicked, then gave, releasing me from the seat.
I braced my hand against the small window next to me and pushed against it. The seat creaked and fell back into place. The bolts keeping it secured to the floor had been ripped out. I felt fortunate that the others remained intact.
The pilot slumped over the armrest, his knuckles resting against the top of my bag that stored his payment for flying us out of California. He offered no signs of life.
I grabbed the top of his seat and sat up. The world spun. I paused, closed my eyes, and took a moment to gather my bearings.
The tips of the wires brushed against my scalp. I flinched, then ducked, afraid of being zapped. The pilot’s face was turned away from me. I leaned over the seat to get a better look.
The side of his head had a deep gash running from his temple down past his earlobe. I checked for a pulse, but found none.
“Anna,” I said again. She didn’t appear to be inside the aircraft–making me worried that she had been thrown from the plane, or left me behind.
I grabbed my bag out from underneath the pilot’s limp arm, turned in place, then faced the back of the plane. The world spun some more. Both hands grabbed the seats close by, keeping me upright.
The whistling of the wind played in the dull silence. Wires and insulation whipped about, brushing against my face. I shuddered, then pushed them out of my way.
Gray snow fell into the back half of the plane from the fissures that lined the tail. It gathered on the floor, and the jumbled mess of boxes that had broken free from the cargo net keeping them in place.
The side entrance to the aircraft was open. I craned my neck and peered outside in search of Anna.
I slung the rucksack over my shoulder and took a step forward. The tip of my shoe nudged the corner of a tool box that sat in the middle of the floor. The tools inside clattered against the walls of the enclosure. I stumbled forward, hitting the far side of the opened door. My shoulder rammed the dense steel. The side of my head smacked the fuselage.
“Cory,” Anna called out in worry. “You’re awake. Are you all right?”
My hand palmed the side of my head. I cussed under my breath, then turned toward the door. “I’m about as all right as one can be after surviving a plane crash.”
She grabbed my arm and helped me out of the destroyed aircraft. “Thank God. I didn’t know what sort of injuries you’d sustained. I was afraid of moving you too much. You didn’t respond any when I spoke to you.”
I draped my legs over the edge of the opening, then scooted out to the ground. Anna held fast, keeping a tight hold on my forearm as I steadied my balance.
I blinked, then looked at her dingy face. She had a gash over her left brow. A trail of dried blood ran from the open wound and smeared across her cheek. It mixed with the ash gathering on her skin. She favored her right arm, keeping it close to her body.
“Your head’s bleeding,” I said, pulling away from her and standing on my own accord. “Is your arm okay? It isn’t broken, is it?”
“It’s fine, all things considered.” She dipped her chin, then looked at her arm. She moved it around. Her face scrunched in distress from the action. “It’s not broken. I can move it. I just get a twinge of pain is all. Might have tweaked it or something when we crashed.”
I nodded, then pointed back toward the plane. “The pilot is dead.”
Anna ran her fingers through the matted strands of her hair, then wiped the red-tinted gray snowfall from her face. It streaked across her flesh. “Yeah. I woke up not too long ago. I checked on him after you.”
My eyes still burned some. I rubbed them again and shook my head in frustration. “Do you know where we are?”
Anna shrugged. “I think we crashed in a valley or something. There are mountain ranges all around us.” She pointed to the ominous black swollen clouds overhead. “Those clouds are pretty dense and haven’t moved out yet. I think it’s early morning, though, seeing as there is some light out.”
I flitted my gaze to the sky, then shielded my face from the gray snowfall. “What the hell is that? What’s going on?”
“No clue on both fronts, but it looks like ash falling from the sky.” Anna held her hand out, allowing the gray flakes to gather in her palm.
“Why would ash be falling?” I wiped my fingers across my cheek, then rubbed the tips together. “That would have to be one big ass fire, explosion, or whatever to create this much. I wonder if Yellowstone erupted or something.”
Anna wiped her hands off onto her pants. “That’s the only thing I can think that would cause this sort of event.”
The brisk wind searched for a way through my clothing, exploiting any tears or openings within the tattered fabric. I wrapped my arms across my chest and shivered.
