Cryptic world

One problem leads to another

The nervousness that emille would fall through the fog and just never stop falling consumed him. Almost to the point he couldn't stomach it. He grasped on to the bottom of the ship squeezing so hard he could of sworn that his fingers dented the metal a little.

He was hanging on with his fingers as the ship followed the caravan. He was dangling thousands of feet in the air and one slip could send him right to the bottom of the world. The ship was moving fast telling Emille that the caravan was moving faster two. The ship swung as if turned and Emille nearly let go. The wind pushed against him and it felt as if there was a hurricane.

He started to shimmy on the side of the ship until he reached an open docking bay. He climbed in and realised how small it really was. There was only one ship inside of it and it could only fit that one. The ship was smaller then Emille had expected. He made his way to a door and entered a hall. There was no one inside of it it seemed. He continued to cautiously wonder the ship. That officer could be dead right now and Emille didn't know. The caravan could've fallen odd the edge for all he knew.

He heard voices from the outside of a door. The cockpit. He put his hand on the door and pressed a tiny bit. The door hissed as the air came out. Emille prayed they didn't hear that. He pushed the door wide open. Two soldiers sat at two chairs pushing buttons, sliding levers and running their fingers across key boards.

"Missile launch ready in thirty seconds." One of them said as he slid a long black lever down. Emille surged with panic. They were blowing the caravan right off the cliff. Emille quietly approached the soldier on his left. He wrapped his arm around his neck and heard a snap. The soldier fell of the chair dead. The second soldier looked to Emille then scrambled to find his gun. In all the commotion Emille landed a punch square in his jaw knocking him out. The ship dropped and Emille nearly fell. He slid into one the seats and the ship buckled and dropped a few feet again.

"How do I steer this?" Emille looked for a steering wheel or something but none of it made sense. He slid into the other chair and the ship jerked again. He looked out the window. He was flying aimlessly through the fog. He was lower then the cliff and couldn't see anything. He scanned over the buttons and levers. He saw a yellow blinking button marked altitude adjuster. He tapped it and began sliding the lever next to it up.

The ships nose went up forcing Emille to sit back on his seat. The ship cut through the fog and the cliff came back into sight. The caravan was up ahead it had picked up speed.

"Ten seconds to missile launch." A female voice said through a radio. Emille panicked. How did he steer the missiles away? He frantically looked over the controls again this time spotting a sphere built into the board. He put his palm on it and the ship turned. Emille slid to the right on his seat. It was more sensitive then he thought. He rotated the ball again this time the ship turned ninety degrees and was flying sideways. Perfect.

"Three seconds until missile launch." The voice came on. Emille covered his ears and heard a piercing screech before seeing two bright lights fly out the front of the ship disappearing into the fog. There was a massive bright light and Emille covered his eyes. He saw the explosion as it destroyed a canyon wall. He saw red and black things go flying by the hundreds. They weren't rocks. They were birds.