Lost in Minecraft.. A tale of two survivors.

The End is the Beginning.

Lance and Crainer, an unlikely duo of adventurers found themselves in the midst of a crisis unlike any they had faced before. The world was spiraling into chaos and the only hope of salvation was to collect and safely escort the congressmen to the pentagon where they could make crucial decisions to salvage together what's left of the North American continent.

Lance, an exceptionally skilled survivalist, pilot, special forces operator and Crainer, a witty, but inexperienced navigator were selected for the crucial mission. The two boarded their plane after an extensive mental and physical diagnostic and a quick briefing. 

The sky was dark, with the occasional flash of lightning reflecting the turmoiled state of the world below. Hours and hours passed by along with increasing worry among the two. Something has to be wrong, a flight from Boston to New York shouldn't be taking this long. It had almost been 6 hours of ominous dark skies and rain pelting the window. 

Lance was checking his digital watch, July 27th, one in the morning it read out to him. Crainer was fiddling with a ham radio. The occasional sputter from the engines or light shake from the turbulence interrupting his focus.

"You've been at that for 20 minutes." Lance spoke while remaining focused on the front windshield. The lights flicker slightly, as if responding to his remark.

"Its been 6 hours, I'm turning around." Lance was about to take manual control over the plane before Crainer interrupts him. 

"Come on man.. just a little more and we can maybe get our bearings. You never know if we're flying over an active airbase or something. We can land there, refuel and get some supplies and we'll get right back on schedule."

Lance recoils his arms from the control panel and folds them. "They should have expected us with the congressmen by now, how am I supposed to explain to the General that we took a wrong turn?"

Crainer exhales bluntly, shrugging his shoulders as he cycles into the designated emergency broadcast frequency. He is met with a robotic-like broadcaster, who's only clue being human is his occasional pauses, and nervous swallowing.

"..Atlanta... stage nine catastrophe."

"Nashville.. stage eight-..---isaster.."

"Philadelphia..-.---six..infection -zone."

Crainer mutes the radio as he notices his own morale dropping with the dreaded states of various cities along the eastern United States. He sets the radio down onto the seat next to him, taking particular interest in the state of the plane. The occasional spec of rust interrupting the glitter of the freshly cleaned metal. 

This was the only plane they could be spared. All of the proper military transports that could have been assigned to them had been destroyed in the first hours of the fall. That was only yesterday. 

Crainer inhales sharply. "How much longer do you think this plane is going to hold up for?"

Lance pauses for a moment, taking the time to examine the interior of the dated plane. He turns his head over to Crainer. "I'm not going to lie, I really don't think we have long." Lance turns his head back to the front windshield.

In the darkness ahead, something outlined.. but what was it? Lance squints his eyes, trying to spot what it was in front of them. A mountain? No, we're too high. Another plane possibly? No, too large..

The fear sets in as the old plane begins to emit an adrenaline inducing constant beep. Lance's veins rush with adrenaline as he realizes that they are heading directly towards a building. Lance  gasps as he desperately takes manual control of the plane, "S-sshit!" He turns the control with all his might in attempt to steer the old plane out of the way. 

The plane rattles as Crainer falls out of his seat yelling. "What the hell Lance!" Crainer confusingly shouts towards the cockpit. Lance breathes a sigh of relief, his heart pounding with pure adrenaline. "CRAINER! WE ALMOST HIT A BUILDING." 

"Thought we were supposed to be out in the wilderness!" Crainer looks at Lance scared, confused, and curious as well. Lancey rests his arm on the handle bar, as the two are interrupted again by another beeping, this time it was fast and numerous. Crainer's face is lit up by an orange glow as he turns to see a horrifying sight of the propeller, off and burning. The orange glow contrasting against the dark night sky.

Thousands of possibilities race through Crainer's head as he ponders how this could of happened. Did we hit the building? No.. Was it a piece of debris? Crainer's thoughts are interrupted by Lance grabbing his upper arm, guiding him to the cockpit. "Come on, come on. We have to get out of this damn thing." Lance says to Crainer, looking him in the eyes. 

"Huh? No! We can't jump we have to try and land somehooo-!" Crainer is interrupted by the plane tilting 45 degrees to the side. Lance kicks open the side exit to the plane as he puts a parachute on Crainer's back.

"We HAVE to jump now Crainer! I'll be right behind you."

"No! I'm too scared, what if the parachute doesn't work." 

"Forget this NO TIME!" By now the plane had tilted almost entirely to its side, Lance proceeds to kick Crainer down and then fastens his own parachute. "N-No NO NOO!" Crainer slides down the floor and out into the void. Lance hurriedly follows but slips and injures his elbow on the side of the door.

For a solid 6 seconds, Lance is unable to see the ground at all. Not to mention he has lost track of Crainer in the process. 

Lance pulls the strings on his parachute as he notices the first sign of light. Not the sun, but buildings.. and street lights. No cars.. no noise, just the torrential downpour. 

A bad omen surges through Lance as he realizes he's dropping straight into hell on Earth.