Lost & Found

Chapter 11

Grace's P.O.V.

I try not to stare into the storm as we fly on. Lightning and thunder crack, making me flinch. The rain pounds against our windows and makes it near impossible to see outside. Strong gusts of wind shove our plane, and us inside, every which way. Our progress slows rapidly. I can't believe that we're actually attempting to fly through it. Ridiculous.

"You're insane!" One of the men adds from the back. "Are you trying to kill us all?"

Despite my agreeing with their sentiment, I snap back at them. "You'll be killed sooner if the plane crashes because your yelling is distracting him!"

They immediately stop talking. I hear Tintin stifle a chuckle and, bewildered, look up to the front of the plane. How is he able to laugh at a time like this?

A strong gust of wind forces us to the right, throwing me and everyone else in the plane to the side. I push myself off the wall and rub a sore spot on my shoulder that will likely have a bruise tomorrow. If we're alive for tomorrow.

Lightning flashes just to my left, hitting one of the wings. Heat flashes in the cabin before the plane begins to tip over. I try not to scream and instead grab the edges of my seat, pulse pounding in my ears. We continue to tip until we are completely upside-down. Both Captain and the men now sit on the roof of the plane, Tintin and I being the only ones with seatbelts. Straining with effort, Tintin pulls the steering wheel of the plane to the right, trying to right us. It takes a moment but he soon rights the plane, the others landing back on the floor with a thud.

"Is everyone alright so far?" He throws back.

"Couldn't be better, laddie!" the Captain returns, somewhat sarcastically. "In fact, I-"

The plane drops down, then begins to fall completely. Things begin to float up in the cabin. We're in free fall.

Snowy lifts up from the floor near Tintin's foot, barking incredulously as he paddles through the air. I scoop him out of the air and into my arms, then hold him close to my chest.

Tintin manages to pull the plan back up, only for it to crash down again. Soon the ride feels like a roller coaster, the motion repeated over and over again, seeming to never end. I hug Snowy closer and close my eyes. We're going to die. Maybe now I can see my father again.

A sputtering of the engine confirms my suspicions. We dip down again. Tintin's voice breaks through my thoughts. "No, no! The fuel tank is nearly empty!"

I risk opening my eyes to find that he's right. The small gauge on his dashboard is on empty, our plane slowly starting to lose altitude. Another fall occurs, and I see two small bottles of medicinal alcohol float up next to me. We jerk up and one of the bottles falls, the glass smashing into the floor and shattering. I snatch snatch the other out of the air for fear of it flying around the plane. Then I realize something. "Tintin?" I ask. "Could alcohol be used as a substitute for fuel?"

"Why, yes... yes it can!" He pumps a fist in the air. "Captain, I need you to climb out onto the front of the plane and dump the bottle into our fuel tank."

The Captain nervously glances outside. "You mean go out in that? While the plane's still flying? It's suicide, lad!"

"Are you a Haddock or not?"

I cringe. Maybe that wasn't the best way to convince him to go out.

A determined look crosses the Captain's face. Without another moment's hesitation, he grabs the bottle of alcohol and opens the plane door, then jumps out. Maybe it was an effective way to convince him after all.

Something thunks against the other side of the plane. I jump and nearly scream, but sigh in relief when I see the Captain's face pressed up against the window. He seems to be hanging on for dear life. I can't blame him.

The plane continues to dip low to the ground as we lose fuel and the Captain slowly makes his way along the outside of the plane. Thankfully we've reached land, but that will mean nothing if we crash the plane. We're still quite high above the ground, the sandy plains weaving along in patterns below us.

The door behind me suddenly opens, letting in an onslaught of cold air. I glance behind my seat and yell in frustration. "No!"

The men previously after us have somehow managed to untie themselves and are now strapping on parachutes. One of them leaps out of the plane, the other more hesitant.

I know it's a foolish idea, but I launch out of my seat and grab onto the other man's parachute straps. Those men are the last link that I currently have to my father's killer. I have to stop them from leaving.

My momentum pushes us farther than I meant. We are both thrown out of the plane and into the sky. The horror of what I've just done doesn't take long to hit me as the cold air forces me up, then down again. I've doomed us both. Father usually said I was too impulsive. He was right.

I desperately cling to the straps on his parachute. The man kicks and yells, "Crazy dame, you'll get us both killed!"

I ignore him and grip the straps tighter. The ground looms closer below us. Suddenly we are pulled upwards by the parachute exploding out of his pack. The impact loosens my grip. The man seizes the opportunity to deliver a hard kick to my stomach.

"No!" I scream as I'm flung away from the life-saving device. I can't tell how high up I am. I'm going to die, aren't I? I'm going to -

The world darkens and blurs. I try to blink, to stay awake, but sleep grabs a hold of my mind as I fall. I succumb to the darkness.

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