The Last Flight. Chapter 4

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Tem 28, 2022 // By:analsex // No Comment

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My eyes focussed on the horrific scene before me. The cabin was largely intact, but not as it had been. Windows were broken, the luggage racks had come down and bags and their contents were strewn everywhere. Interior panelling was buckled and broken, missing in places, and electrical wiring was hanging. The acrid smell of burnt metal and rubber filled my nostrils, but there was no fire that I could see, although the air was filled with dust and smoke. I tried to stand, but my legs were so weak that I had to crawl towards the nearest seats where I found Jemima was hanging in her belt and leaning sideways from her seat, the armrest preventing her from falling, whilst her arm hung loosely to the floor. There was blood on her pretty face from a cut hidden in her matted hair, and I feared the worst but took her wrist and attempted to find a pulse. I didn’t find one, but there was no need because as I moved her, she groaned and her eyes flickered open. She looked at me, the confused look on her face suddenly changing to relief as she realised that she was alive. With neither a smile nor a word, she raised her head and winced as she bumped it on the piece of panel that had fallen across her. I guessed that was what had cut her head. “Are you okay?” I asked her. She waited, considering the question. “Yes… yes, I think so.” She put her hand to her head and felt the sticky but drying blood. “Are you?” she asked. “I think so.” I tried to smile but it was difficult. My stomach hurt but I put it down to bruising from the impact. “Hold on to me whilst I release your belt,” I told her but she shook her head. “No, I’m okay. I think you had better see to your other passengers.” She indicated seat twenty-four. I turned to see him sitting upright and rigid, pressing back into what remained of his seat. His eyes were staring straight ahead. At first I thought he was dead, but then I realised he was sweating profusely and trembling. I turned back to Jemima who had now released her buckle. “Will you check them whilst I try and get the door open?” I asked her, “We need to get out of here as soon kaçak iddaa as possible, I can smell fuel.” She nodded and prised herself out from the wreckage of her seat. I could see she was in considerable pain. “Are you sure you are okay?” I repeated my previous question. “Yes, yes, just a little battered and bruised.” She smiled or, at least, tried to. “Okay,” I said, “But if you are not you tell me, promise?” She nodded and turned away to seat twenty-four. My priority now was to get the door open. I grabbed the handle but it wouldn’t budge, the door was so buckled that the locking mechanism was jammed solid. I tried everything I could to move it but it was hopeless. Behind me I could hear Jemima’s voice. “You are alright now, we are down. You are safe.” Her voice was gentle and caressing When I turned around, I saw she was speaking to the man in seat twenty-four who was crying now. I went over to them. “Is he all right?” I asked her and she nodded. “I need your help, Sir,” I said to him directly. “I need you to help me open the door.” He sniffed a little but looked up and nodded. It was then that I saw his colleague or, rather, didn’t. Jemima had covered him with a coat. He had not been so lucky. I looked at her, but no words were needed as she shook her head slowly. Quickly, I showed the man what I needed him to do and left him, hoping that keeping him occupied might help him. I didn’t imagine for one minute he would be able to open it though. I was surprised at how quiet the other passengers were. No-one screamed. I could hear groans and murmurs but there didn’t seem to be any panic. “I think we will have to use the front pilots door,” I said to Jemima then paused, gazing at her. “Thank you,” I whispered, “I would have been lost without you.” “Funny how it takes something like this to find out who you really are,” she said. Slowly and methodically, I made my way towards the front of the cabin. It wasn’t easy. The aisle was almost non-existent. There was debris strewn all over the place and, as I picked my way through the destruction I checked each seat, reassuring those kaçak bahis who had survived and covering those who had not. At the front, my eyes began to fill. The elderly couple whom I had greeted were still sitting, unmoving in their twisted seats, both still in the brace position, leaning forwards, heads down. What upset me though was that they were still holding each others hands. I took a deep breath, covered them with some clothing that had been tossed around and focussed on getting the bulkhead door open. I turned the handle and pushed. That one, too, was stuck! I put my shoulder to it and pushed hard. It flexed and moved a little but would not open. This door was not solid like the main door, it was a connecting door which led to the short corridor through the equipment area and then the cockpit, so I barged hard against it. Once again, it shuddered but did not open. “Can someone help with this door, please,” I called back over my shoulder. And seconds later I was joined by a middle aged man who had been seated in the centre of the cabin. He was quite short and plump, but he attacked that door until, suddenly, it gave and I had to grab him to prevent him falling. I stared through the open door in disbelief. I was looking outside. There was nothing beyond, just a tangle of twisted metal. The cockpit was gone! Completely! Of the pilots there was no sign and I retched, once, twice then vomited violently. What had become of them, I could only imagine. I had to think, had to keep going. Those who had survived needed me so I wiped my mouth and returned to the cabin. The man from seat twenty-four had not succeeded in freeing the main door so the only option was to go out through the wreckage at the front. It wasn’t easy. I expected to help twenty one people through the twisted and tangled metal work and to safety but, in the end, there were just nine survivors who had to climb down through the mess of tangled wires and framework to the ground a few feet below. Jemima was the last to leave, just behind her neighbour, the business man. “That is all?” I said aloud, looking around and illegal bahis over her shoulder. She nodded. “Yes, that’s it, I’m afraid,” she said quietly. It was then I realised just how bad a crash this had been. The plane was largely intact. One wing was crumpled where it had hit the ground and sliced through the trees, and the fuselage was buckled and battered, but what struck me the most was the front. There was nothing at all left but twisted metal where the cockpit had once been, nothing recognisable. I guessed that as we slid off the runway and into the trees it had taken the full force of the impact and Eric and Bob must have seen it all coming as they tried in vain to save us. I could do nothing but stand and stare in disbelief but then jumped when something touched my shoulder. I looked to the side as Jemima took my arm and gently guided me away. “Come on,” she said, “You can do nothing more.” “Oh, wait, the flare gun!” I shook myself from her grasp. “Karen, wait!” she shouted, “You can’t go back in there!” “I have to, they need to find us!” I was referring to the search party. “What if they don’t know where to look?” “I will go, where is it it?” I looked around, surprised. The businessman had joined us, unnoticed. “It’s in the… oh.” I stopped mid sentence. They both frowned. “In the cockpit,” I finished quietly, realising there was no chance of finding it. “Come away, Karen, They will find us. This is France, not Borneo.” Jemima guided me gently away from the wreckage. As I turned, a pain shot through my right leg and I stumbled. “Are you okay?” she asked, concerned. We both looked down at the same time. “Oh my Lord!” I exclaimed. Blood was pouring down the outside of my leg from a gash on my upper thigh, about half way between my hip and knee. “I must have caught it on something.” I stated the obvious, but it was all that came out. The blood had soaked through the fabric of my skirt and was slowly seeping down through the tattered remnants of my stocking and into my shoe. Jemima turned to the businessman who was looked intently at my leg, not lustfully but as if afraid that something bad was going to happen to me. “I will have to dress that and quickly.” Jemima spoke urgently as she helped me to sit and lean against the base of a tall tree.”I need something clean.

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