Ties That Bind

Prologue

A panicked stillness fell over the passengers of flight TW-83. The engine cracked and groaned against the icy arctic gales as the gravity around the plane seemed to suspend itself every few seconds to remind its occupants of their location and predicament.

The passengers and crew were too afraid to say anything, for fear of starting a panic or appearing crazy. It didn't matter, they were all thinking the same thing.

"We're going to crash, I'm going to die". Everyone but the teenage slob in seat 8-C who seemed far more concerned with the now almost empty bottle of vodka sitting on his lap than the uncertain future of flight TW-83 and her 212 passengers and 6 crew.

The boy sat sprawled in his chair, seat belt unbuckled and legs strewn out into the aisle.

"Doubtful anyone's getting up to use the bathroom in the next few minutes" he thought, "Might as well stretch out." Besides, the tone in the captain's voice as he delivered his latest "update" was clear enough that he could guess the dining cart would not be coming around to serve that beef wellington he'd ordered for dinner.

He recognized the tone in the captain's voice of course, absolute terror impersonating reassuring words. He'd heard it, seen it, countless times before. "The brave faces men and women wear to their deaths." he thought. He admired them for this a little and smiled sadly into his drink before glancing out the window to gauge the plane's altitude and calculate how much time they have left.

"Two minutes". He finally declared to himself.

Plane crashes weren't so bad, more buildup than anything else really. The crash part was always over with before he could really feel anything.

Not that feeling it mattered, but pain was still... unpleasant, even if it resulted in no permanent injuries.

Given enough time his bones, skin, and organs would all be stitching themselves in that familiar grotesque dance. He once equated it to what it must be like watching an autopsy in reverse.

1 minute.

Already he was deciding on his next route. He could still go to Anchorage, he hadn't been this far north since the first half of the twentieth century. He always seemed to have bad luck when traveling north. At least this time they were over land. There were few things he hated more than trudging across the ocean slowly freezing.

He raised his glass response in response as if to propose a toast to his fellow travelers.

How strange he must seem to the people around him, and how afraid they must be of what comes next. He wondered if he should tell them that they would have to face this sooner or later. Maybe he could reassure them that they will all receive proper burials by his hands once this is over...

No that wouldn't do.

These next few moments were for them, he decided. He had an infinite amount of moments ahead of him, but none of those moments would be helpful to his new friends.

30 seconds now.

He tilted his head backward and slowly sipped the last of his drink. Letting the flavor linger before exhaling smoothly and settling back into his chair. He rested his glass on the tray table, which was not in the upright position in direct defiance of the flight attendants earlier warnings. He folded his hands neatly on his stomach and began humming to himself quietly.

No more stillness.

People were just panicking now.

A mother in a seat across from him was rocking back and forth, gripping her toddler tightly as the plane bucked and dipped wildly in all directions.

She glanced frantically through the window to see snow capped mountains, once distant now rushing into detail. She screamed, and in looking away, had locked eyes with the teenage drunk two seats over sitting next to the window, humming to himself.

A blast of icy air gushed through the plane, followed by a thundering BOOM as the cabin lost air pressure and the last remaining engine began its death rattle.

The mother and teen sat there in silence, eyes locked, suspended in the chaos and inertia of the catastrophe unfolding around them. She opened her mouth to scream again, but this time made no sound. It was then she noticed that the teen was offering her a small smile.

"You know..." He shouted over the final engine failing, "it could be a lot worse."

And with that the teen fell into unconsciousness.