Beyond Mortality

Turbulence

The desert sun was beginning to dip low on the horizon as the jeep rumbled along, its tires kicking up clouds of dust that seemed to hang in the air like a veil. Inside, the silence was thick, heavy with unspoken fears and unanswered questions. Charlie Hunter sat tense and quiet, her eyes flicking nervously between the desolate landscape outside and the two people beside her. Nile, who had been trembling ever since the shocking events that had just unfolded, now sat still, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Andy, the enigmatic stranger who had turned their world upside down, drove with an unsettling calmness, as if this were just another day in a life full of chaos.

Charlie's thoughts churned, her mind racing to process everything that had happened. The impossible reality of Nile's newfound immortality weighed heavily on her, as did the knowledge that they were now on the run with no clear destination in sight. The tension in her chest was suffocating, her breath shallow and uneven. She tried to focus on the road ahead, but the landscape slipping by in a blur of gold and brown only served as a reminder of how far they were from everything they had ever known.

Eventually, the faint outline of a plane came into view, perched on a lone runway that seemed to stretch out into the middle of nowhere. Charlie's stomach dropped, a wave of dread washing over her as the vehicle approached. The sight of the plane sent a cold shiver down her spine, her heart rate picking up as they drew closer.

"Oh great," she mumbled under her breath, the dread settling in her bones.

"What is it?" Andy asked, glancing at her with a frown, her voice laced with curiosity.

Nile, who had been silent for most of the ride, finally spoke up, her voice tinged with a hint of levity. "She hates flying."

Charlie shot her a withering look, but there was no denying it. Flying wasn't just a discomfort for her; it was a deep-seated fear that she had never quite managed to shake. The idea of being thousands of feet in the air, trapped in a metal box with no control over her fate, made her skin crawl.

Andy, however, seemed unfazed by the revelation. "Well, suck it up or stay here. Up to you," she said, her tone indicating she wasn't in the mood to deal with it. There was no sympathy in her voice, just a matter-of-fact coldness that left no room for argument.

Charlie groaned, her dread deepening as the jeep rolled to a stop at the edge of the makeshift airstrip. The scene before her didn't do much to inspire confidence. The plane was an old, battered craft that had clearly seen better days. It looked more like a relic from a bygone era than a reliable mode of transportation. The runway was flanked by two cars filled with men holding rifles, their expressions hard and unfriendly. Each vehicle was outfitted with a makeshift turret, a clear indicator of this planes questionable origins.

Andy got out of the jeep without hesitation, her demeanour cool and composed as she gestured for Charlie and Nile to follow. She waved at the pilot, who was walking towards the plane, speaking rapidly in Russian on his phone. The pilot's relaxed posture and the casual way he flicked away his cigarette did little to alleviate Charlie's concerns.

Charlie watched as Nile, her composure slowly returning, climbed the rickety stairs to board the plane. Charlie was slower to follow, her instincts screaming at her that this was a bad idea. She lingered for a moment, taking in the state of the aircraft, noting the rusted metal and peeling paint. It was nothing too catastrophic, but enough to make her stomach churn with anxiety.

"You sure know how to pick 'em," Charlie muttered dryly, her voice tinged with nervous humour as she eyed the plane with suspicion.

Andy just chuckled, walking past her without a word as she climbed the stairs. Her nonchalance only served to deepen Charlie's unease. With a deep breath and a silent mantra, Charlie forced herself to ascend the stairs, each step feeling like it could be her last.