Last Thing You Remember…

12 February 2010, 10:32PM

You arrived at the airport about twenty minutes later than you had planned, which put you in a rush from the start. Adam said something he shouldn't have while going through the security checkpoint, and got pulled aside for a full check, which delayed everyone even more. All in all, you had about five minutes to sit before the call to board. The plane was packed—hardly any seats open, with the exception of the first-class section which, oddly, had several seats open.

You found your seating assignments, all on the same row, stowed your baggage, and took your seat. You immediately regretted not having gotten an upgrade to first class. The plane got underway in due time, taxied to position, and took off without incident. The flight was to take around ten hours, so you prepared for a long, hard day of sitting uncomfortably. JKnotts, seated nearby, was mostly unresponsive to your attempts at being friendly, lost in his ipod.

An hour or so into the flight, as the plane reached cruise altitude and the seat-belt sign was unlit, you looked up to see an unremarkable man in a black suit standing in the first-class doorway, speaking with a flight attendant and pointing in your general direction. The stewardess then approached you and explained that the man to whom she was speaking was offering you an upgrade to first class, owing to the absence of his friends who had apparently missed the flight. You agreed, and eagerly moved to the first-class section. As you settled into your new surroundings, you saw a few of the Survivors there with you, minding their respective businesses. As you sat next to her, you witnessed TRich rolling her eyes, irritated at the intrusion of her solitude.

The man in the black suit introduced himself as David; a well-to-do businessman looking to expand into foreign markets. It became immediately apparent why he chose you to join him in first-class, in that he had recognized you from college football (and deduced that all of you were "together" on the flight); he engaged you in pleasant conversation for some time about sports, college, and life in general. As the discussion continued, WWeiss joined in, and it eventually turned to politics—sparked by the in-flight movie that was showing at the time, and revelation of your respective military service. You drifted out of the conversation, for the most part, but recognized WWeiss' name from recent news reports as the guy who had written a novel about the early years of Muhammad which the Islamic world considered blasphemous. He was on his way to a conference in Amsterdam, and was laughing about some death-threats he had received days prior, believing himself to be "too insignificant" to justify that sort of thing. It was around that time that you noticed, though he hadn't, that AHassan had been watching him, trying to look like he wasn't. Your attempt to bring it to his attention was interrupted by a commotion from the back of the plane. 

As there had been a number of airline crew moving back and forth in the minutes prior—a shift change, perhaps?—you hadn't noticed that a number of passengers had also moved forward, and that they were all of Middle-Eastern descent. The commotion came as the air-marshall, who had become suspicious of this activity, tried to intervene—but too late, as the terrorists forced their way into the cockpit. The plane erupted into panicked screaming, cowered whimpering, muffled praying, Arabic shouting, and weapon brandishing. AHassan, who had been sitting some feet away the whole time was pointing the knife at you, hate an determination in his eyes as he cursed under his breath and stared at WWeiss, obviously bent on martyrdom and sacrificing everyone who happened to be on the plane with him. GSabrosky attempted to verbally manipulate AHassan into giving up on his mission, for which he was punished by a slashing blade, causing him to cower and remain silent. 

Instigated (in part) by CptHarding, the passengers on the plane rose up against their attackers and overpowered them, resolved to stop the hijackers or die trying; you were at the forefront of the action, and AHassan was your first target. You witness KMcNight beating one hijacker senseless with his fists and feet, while BDecker held him down. Amidst the scuffle, the plane dove sharply as the crew and terrorists fought for control, and the cabin was thrown into a semi-weightless state for a long beat, adding to the chaos of the moment. The subsequent fight ended, with shots fired, windows broken, oxygen masks deployed and dangling, many injured passengers, a few dead, and the plane itself in an uncontrolled dive, but recovering. AColt's arm was severely cut by AHassan in the fighting. All but a couple of the terrorists were unconscious or dead; AHassan was among the living. The overall prognosis was good, by all accounts. JWesson tended and bandaged AColt's wounded arm.

RBlackwell, the remaining pilot continued the struggle to regain control of the plane, with help from a knowledgeable passenger or two, as those who could tended the wounded, organized by DrGriles and JWesson. By this point, all of the Survivors were in first-class as well, the remainder having migrated to the front during the chaos. You witnessed CStrong comforting a dying old woman. You realized in the aftermath that David was missing—no one had seen him leave the first-class section. Some minutes later, the pilot announced over the PA that the plane was out of danger, that they were attempting to find a place to land, and that everyone should return to their seats and fasten themselves in. You overheard some conversation indicating that you were over the North Pole, hours from any suitable airstrip—and all that with a freak storm popping up. A beat later, the pilot announced that you would be flying into a storm, that he was trying to get around it, and that he apologized for the continued inconvenience and discomfort. He was doing everything he could to bring the plane down safely.

The next thirty minutes or so were tense, bumpy and loud, with thunder crashing, and wind rushing through the broken windows, tossing around anything that wasn't tied down. From the front, you were in a better position to see the concern and frustration on the faces of the remaining crew, and overheard poorly-disguised conversations about the lack of radio reception. You witnessed JKnotts having nodded off in a first-class seat, oblivious to the chaos. A scream rang out from the midsection; someone said they saw a large shape outside, silhouetted by a lightning strike, on an apparent collision course with the plane. In the next few seconds, you all strained at the windows to get a look, as the plane banked hard. You did manage see an indefinable shape outside, in the split-second before the plane lurched heavily from impact and engine explosion, the flames briefly illuminating what registered in your mind as a large "flying creature" of some kind. Whatever it was, it took an engine and a large chunk of wing with it.

The plane lost power, the only light remaining in the cabin coming from the flames outside. The descent seemed to last an eternity. The plane rolled over twice, at least, before it started to break apart. As the fuselage began to separate, the noise became deafening. Luggage and passengers were tossed around and sucked out in all directions. There was an explosion, and the first-class section you were in jolted forward, striking ground a beat later, skipping a number of times, and tumbling, until a hard collision instantly stopped it cold, throwing everything and everyone that could be high into the air.