Crash

by Briar, Perrin

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  Crash

  Perrin Briar

  CRASH

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the captain’s voice chimed via the overhead speakers. “We’ll be landing in Philadelphia in approximately—”

  Loud static hissed through the speakers and swallowed the pilot’s sentence.

  Julia covered her ears. The sound was unpleasant and did nothing to soothe her anxiety. She took a steadying breath. Flying was a new experience for her, and the idea of them sailing through the air at a thousand miles an hour didn’t exactly put her at ease.

  “Sorry about that,” the pilot said. “We should be making our arrival at Philadelphia International Airport within the next twenty minutes. Then, we will begin our descent—”

  The airplane lights flickered.

  Julia frowned, anticipating more to the announcement.

  She glanced up at the silent speakers.

  A stewardess approached carrying a bright blue plastic bag, her hands protected by white gloves. Passengers passed their trash into the bag as she passed. Julia tore her gaze from the smiling woman.

  The incident with her plastic cup of iceless water played with Julia’s nerves. No one quite explains plane etiquette on the brochures and Julia hadn’t known what to do with the thing aside from stuffing it into the pouch of the seatback in front of her. Apparently, that was a big no-no judging by the stewardesses glaring expression when she saw Julia’s faux-pas. That was the first time Julia had felt tempted to stick her tongue out at the back of someone’s head since she was in grade school.

  The plane stuttered—turbulence, the pilot called it.

  Julia drew in another breath and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for it to pass.

  The man next to her kept shifting in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs every other minute. It was aggravating. Just when Julia was convinced he was fully out for the count, he’d start up again, knocking his knees against her leg. Corduroy rubbing against her thin wool leggings.

  Julia drummed her fingers against her legs and turned to look out into the cloudless sky out her little window. Twenty minutes to Philadelphia. Probably forty before she was out of the airport and with something to eat. She’d be sure to grab a Philly cheese-steak sandwich on her way to the University campus. Probably another couple of hours before she could start apartment hunting. If she was lucky, she’d be able to get a good place and within reasonable distance to the school before the semester began. There’s no way she’d stomach the dorms for long. West Philly would be kind to her, she hoped.

  Born and raised in Norther California, Julia was raised by… interesting parents. Her parents were hippies. Former hippies? Eh, something like that, though she isn’t sure how much that applies to them now. Her entire life, no one could get a read on them or their ideology. On the one hand, they recycled everything, sewed their own clothes, brought up the planet’s state of carbon decay at dinner. On the other, her mother would sometimes splurge on shopping sprees at Saks Fifth Avenue and fawned over anything glittery. Her father would go on and on about the importance of firearms and carried a collection at home. The enthusiasm went both ways and left Julia sighing and swearing to never bring a friend home for dinner. That was a disaster that needed no revisiting ever.

  As a result, from between the mess of contradictions, Julia sprouted up into an aggressively independent mindset. She learned to tune out their parent’s hourly tangents on gun-safety and figured out the best times to sneak away when the conversations grew more and more heated or encompassing. Just the thought of any of that bleeding into potential new friends’ circles was enough to make Julia vehemently oppose signing up for the dorms.

  She even wrote a letter to the Dean of Students to get permission to live off campus. The response was relieving. If a bit embarrassing. The Dean responded that no student had ever had the guts (verbatim) to write him directly before accepting her request. Julia responded with a swift thank you and left it at that. She’d been known for being tenacious and being in a new city required an extra dose.

  Independence, however, was no cure for other problems. Like Anxiety. Blame it on being spoon-fed possible end of days scenarios for years or the ferocious desire to keep her friends from meeting her parents for long, Julia couldn’t say. She’s had it for ages and it wasn’t getting better at this rate. The bouncing airplane ride wasn’t helping in the slightest.

  Another boneshaking stutter rocked the plane and Julia nearly bit her tongue.

  No use paying attention to the movie playing silently in the little screen embedded into the seatback ahead of her. She couldn’t even enjoy mocking the flagrant incorrect use of guns in the modern spy-flick. Any other day she’d be snorting at the actress’s flailing grip and unrealistic aim.

  Julia let out a tight groan of irritation when the plane jerked again.

  The movie on her screen cut to black.

  Julia blinked and glanced at her restless neighbor’s screen. Black as well.

  The lights flickered bright before cutting off.

  Darkness fell over the entire plane.

  Julia’s blood ran cold, hearing surprised murmurs from the other passengers.

  Julia straightened up from her seat and glanced back, seeing the stewardess from before glance around with surprise.

  The roar of the engines suddenly dimmed with a whine. A strange silence filled the cabin as the sound of the turbines slowed.

  Julia’s stomach began to rise to her chest and she gasped, gripping to her seat. Her attempts to calm her nerves were put to death when she noticed the oddest thing. She felt… lighter?

  Someone screamed.

  Julia looked back at her restless neighbor and noticed his body was now beginning to float up over her. His eyes shot open in alarm. Julia’s hair rose over her eyes. How…?

  Oh. The plane was falling.

  The sensation intensified. Julia felt herself get yanked up into the air towards the ceiling. Her seatbelt snagged her hips and pinched tightly at her stomach. She gritted her teeth and watched helplessly as the man next to her was jettisoned above, head crashing into the luggage compartment with a sick crunch. His shout was swallowed by the now roaring cacophony of panicked passengers.

  People shrieked and cried. Julia swore she heard the shrill scream of a baby among the noise.

  The engines did not join the noise, the only silence among the panic and sounds of bodies colliding against parts of the cabin.

  Time became a jumbled mess, moving slowly or too quickly. Julia felt her heart would burst with the pressure, her head constricted as the plane descended in freefall.

  She shut her eyes, felt tears fall upwards into the ceiling.

  There was nothing she could do. Nothing at all.

  She could die right here. Millions of miles from home.

  Fear threatened to choke her. Julia sucked in a breath.

  No.

  She would not succumb to desperation.

  Dying is inevitable. If not now, then later. But it’s highly likely that she could die right now.

  But contrary to popular belief, not all plane crashes ended fatally. She could survive. There was a tiny chance, but it was there. Julia seized that tiny number between her fingers and squeezed at it with all her might.

  Screams and cries and prayers ripped into her ears, but Julia clung to the chances as hard as she could until…

  A screeching noise cut through the panic, loud and horrible. Metal crunched and squealed. Crashing sounds, the feeling of sliding and terrible jerking. So loud. Horrendously loud.

&nb
sp; Julia let go to cover her ears.

  A tremendous jolt ripped into her body.

  She blacked out.

  It was a sharp smell that woke her up. Rancid and fierce. Hot like smoke and burning gasoline. Julia groaned, body aching. There was so much pain. Her head absolutely throbbed with it, leaking pain down her face, thick and hot. Her hips ached and protested so loudly, her legs were numb. Her mind was in tatters. What time was it? How long has it been?

  Julia coughed and tasted smoke and gas. Her eyes were as if they’d been glued shut. She tried to reach up and grab something. She ended up smacking herself right in her face. She hissed, felt runny liquid under her fingers and pressed to her scalp.

  It must have been ages until she could open her eyes.

  The pressure made sense even if the view wasn’t.

  Julia gasped.

  She was upside down. Strewn at an awkward angle against the wall of the plane.

  Nothing seemed to make sense.

  She looked down, saw the source of the pain on her hips and sucked in a breath.

  The seatbelt had her pinned to her seat, several cuts on her legs ragged open her leggings. Her legs looked like they’d been unable to get circulation.

  Julia reached down to tug off the clip. A tug and her fingers met steely resistance.

  It was stuck.

  Julia blinked rapidly, unsure why she couldn’t see so well. It was… bright.

  Sunlight streamed into the cabin from the other side. It was blinding. Her head throbbed.

  Julia reached down again. Her entire body felt weird and in pain. She had to get down before gravity made her pass out again.

  “Come on,” she said, muttering under her breath as she worked to dislodge the buckle. Her fingers were slippery, kept sliding against the metal. If only airplanes let you bring on pocketknives then this wouldn’t be such a big deal. Julia missed her knife, the one her father had given her for her birthday years ago.

  It was pretty in its minimalistic style. A Victorinox Pioneer, with anodized metallic scales that were nice to look at. Nothing fancy but useful. Could be useful right now.

  Julia hissed when the metal pinched her fingers. “Come on, you piece of—AH!”

  Gravity yanked her back down and Julia felt her body collide roughly against the ceiling of the plane.

  Her mind blacked out again.

  Waking up a second time sucked when she realized she had landed funny, all crumpled up. It was still bright out. She wasn’t out for long. That’s good.

  Julia pushed herself up to her knees and elbows, spitting out the nasty and persistent taste of smoke. As soon as Julia looked up, her stomach twisted, and she scrambled away.

  The man who’d been sitting next to Julia lain motionless on the ceiling of the plane just a foot away. His body lay broken, unnatural angles peeking up under his clothes. A noticeable dent caved into his skull on one side.

  Julia turned and heaved, her stomachs contents retching violently nearby. What an odd color. She had crackers and pretzels earlier. Is that how vomit looks like normally? All pale and yellow?

  She fell to her side, mind fading to black once more.

  It was darker when she woke up the next time. Long shadows haunted much of plane’s bowels. Julia recognized trees among the debris. It was easier to realize now that the plane had been ripped apart length wise. A cool wind blew and cleared her mind.

  Groans of pain rose all around her. Julia pushed herself up slowly.

  Her mind swayed and Julia stumbled over strewn luggage and other bodies.

  She had to get out of the plane.

  A loud groan nearby startled her.

  “Hello?” her voice croaked out.

  No answer. The moans and groans continued. Julia approached a nearby passenger, an older woman, and checked for a pulse. Nothing. Julia searched a few other bodies.

  All dead.

  Julia swallowed dry. The entire right side and lower part of the cabin of the plane were ripped off. Outside, past the trees and rubble, were blackened pieces of the plane. Smoke hung heavy in the air. Julia coughed.

  She felt so helpless. She had to help these people somehow.

  Everything spun, her stomach twisted like she’d swallowed down snakes or worms… something angry. It was nearly impossible to think straight. Concussion? Maybe. The blood was not a good sign though.

  Where were the survivors? No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to find them among the dead.

  Get out of the plane, Julia.

  Julia squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she was outside the plane, her feet stumbling over dirt. When…?

  Great, short-term memory must be shot. A second ago she had been looking at a body. Now she was a solid fifty-feet away from the wreckage, surrounded by tall pine trees.

  Julia shook her head and instantly regretted it. Stabbing pain over her scalp stopped her from doing that again. She was just going to have to make due without her memories for now.

  Her clothes were torn. Dirtied up and ripped. Her shirt had blood on it.

  Besides her bleeding head and aching body, she didn’t notice any other injuries.

  She lifted her shirt up to look at her belly. No bruising. Internal bleeding was out.

  Hopefully.

  Help.

  Julia needed help.

  She blinked blearily up into the sky. It was late afternoon or looked like it anyway. She was in the middle of a forest. The smell of pine and dirt mingled oddly with the smell of oil and smoke.

  Where… was everyone?

  Julia tried to look for any signs of life. A plane crash was a big deal right? Where are the search crews? Planes get monitored right? So where was dispatch? Did no one know about the plane crashing?

  Before she passed out the first time, the sun had been higher… brighter. Earlier? Ugh. Time had for sure passed. Either people knew about the crash and were taking their sweet time or…

  That can’t be right.

  She blinked and found herself several hundred yards away. She swayed, disoriented. Her knees were stained with dirt and pine needles. Had she been walking? Where?

  Doesn’t matter.

  Julia kept moving. She had to get help. That’s why she left the plane.

  Occasionally, she turned to look over her shoulder, making sure the plane was right behind her. It would do her no good to be walking in circles because her brain wasn’t working right.

  It must have been a few more minutes until a weight against her leg stood out to her. Julia patted at her pocket and felt the familiar rectangle of her phone. Her eyes widened.

  She must have forgotten about her phone… phone!

  She could call for help!

  Julia pulled it out, yelped when it nearly slipped from her grasp in her hurry. It was comforting just to hold it. Julia tapped the home button, but the phone failed to turn on. She frowned and pressed the power button. Nothing.

  Dead. The screen remained an inky black, reflecting off light. Julia shook it.

  Blank. Like the monitors on the plane.

  Julia tried everything she knew about turning on phones. She held the power button. Tapped the home and power button at the same time. She got desperate and pried off the Otter Box that kept it safe for any signs of damage. Nothing.

  Shit.

  Julia turned it back around and caught her reflection on the smooth screen. She gasped.

  Blood caked the side of her head; her hair was mussed and all over. Smoke had charred over her skin. She looked horrible.

  Julia dropped her hand and tried hard not to despair. It was so hard not to and she was so tired.

  The phone slipped from her limp fingers where it fell to the forest floor with a gentle thump on pine needles and dirt. She had to keep moving.

  At one point she glanced over her shoulder. The plane was gone. There was no turning back now. She couldn’t trust her memory to lead her back safely anyway.

  Julia kept walking, blinking back sweat
and maybe tears.

  The ground was the same forever. Brown, needles. Green needles. Brown. Brown…

  Black. Asphalt.

  A road.

  The relief was short lived when she knew that she could still be miles from civilization. Keep walking. Everything hurt, and the asphalt looked so warm. Julia didn’t dare lay down. Not with a head injury like this. She picked a direction and walked along the asphalt for what felt like ages.

  Her mind brought up the faces of the other passengers on the plane. Her heart hurt with guilt until her eyes welled up. Why hadn’t she kept looking for survivors? Why couldn’t she help them?

  Oh, right. She is. She’s trying to find help. She can’t find them but maybe someone else will.

  Something whizzed by her. Julia’s head shot up and she spotted the back of an antique sports car tearing off into the distance.

  Julia’s heart jumped to her throat as she tried to run after it, waving her arms in the air madly. It didn’t slow down and soon the only sound that remained of the engine roaring faded into the cool afternoon air.

  Julia stopped, staring after it. Tears welled up again in her eyes and she choked out gasps and sobs. She had to keep moving.

  Time passed, minutes probably. Julia’s body was crashing. It was getting harder and harder to keep moving.

  She was ready to fall to her knees when she glanced up and saw a car parked off to the road a few yards away.

  Hope leaped back up to her chest and Julia hurried the last distance.

  “Hey!” she called out, half-waving, half-running. “Please…!”

  She stumbled against the side of the car. It was old. A faded golden color. She slapped her palm clumsily against the driver’s door.

  Suddenly the door swung open wide and a thin and weedy older man shot up in front of her. Wide eyes angry.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said. The anger in his eyes faded when he looked her over. His thin face paled.

  “What in the—are you alright? What happened to you?”

  “H-help,” Julia said, gasping against the car.

  “Were you attacked? Do you need to go to the hospital?”