The Forest [septiplier]

3 - Exposition

Jack stood inside the tail end of the airplane, stepping over what baggage was left after the crash. There was a weird lack of other people. No bodies were anywhere, no survivors walked around. It made Jack the slightest bit unnerved. Mark was only a couple of steps behind him.

"Here- there's a compartment still shut up here, I'll work on rummaging through that," Jack said, moving to the left side of the plane.

"Can I help?" Mark asked.

"I mean, it's a little small honestly. You can just chill for a bit," Jack said. Mark nodded, sitting down in one of the seats. Another thing making Jack nervous was that Mark was nervous. He'd been on edge since the crash, something to be expected. Jack, on the other hand, needed to keep his head.

"We really should have dressed better for this," Mark said. He looked down to his own white t-shirt and jeans and Jack's Berlin pullover with cargo shorts. "Probably should have planned ahead."

"Planned ahead that our plane would crash? Mark, unless you've been talking to a psychic, I have no idea how we'd know all this," Jack said. He was looking in the luggage for anything useful. So far all he'd found was a torch without batteries.

"Yeah, but- I don't know. Whatever," Mark said. He pulled out his cell-phone, pressing the home button. The screen lit up to a picture of him and Jack, back before they were married. The picture showed their silhouettes standing atop a hill, watching as the sun set behind them. Mark smiled. They'd been dating over two years when they finally decided to tie the knot. December 4th, 2019. A day to go down in history. It was Jack who ended up asking the question.

Mark's eye caught the opposite of what he was looking for. "There's no bars. Figures," Mark said, holding his cell higher into the air. "I mean, we are in the middle of nowhere."

"Where the hell are we anyway?" Jack said.

"Beats me. Somewhere in the woods. East coast maybe?" Mark said.

"Aren't you from the East coast? Don't you like, know your way around here?"

"Dude, I'm from Ohio. There's no coast anywhere. And I mean, I'm just as lost as you are. I don't know my way around of all of America. You could fit like eight Northern Ireland's in Ohio alone and still have a shit ton of miles left over. This place is huge," Mark said.

"America: Where everything is bigger. The country, the portions, and also the people," Jack said with a laugh. Mark shoved his arm, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Did you find anything?" Mark asked, his tone jokingly irritated. Jack threw the torch at him gently, and Mark caught it. "A flashlight? Cool! Oh wait, I think I have a lighter in my pocket." He fished around in his pocket, pulling out a pocket-sized Bic.

"Then toss me back the torch," Jack said, and Mark threw it back. "There. Now you have a lighter, I have a torch. Or, a flashlight as you call it."

"Wait. But why is it called a torch?" Mark said, looking at the lifeless flashlight. "A torch is the thing with fire."

"Yeah, we just call... everything... a torch," Jack said, a laugh bubbling in his throat. Mark chuckled at that, too. There wasn't much to laugh about, and finding something- anything- made everything easier. "Oh shit! Someone brought Walkies!" Jack said, pulling out a set of Walkie-Talkies.

"Oh. I thought you said waffles for a second, I got excited," Mark said, looking over the Walkie-Talkies.

"No you dipshit. Why would someone bring waffles on a plane. Why," Jack said, pulling another thing out of the bag. "And they brought batteries. Lots and lots of batteries." He pulled out three packs of double-As, turning to Mark with a grin. "This person is my new best friend."