The Twisted Dimensions

8. LAST FLIGHT

I looked out of the plane window again. From my seat I could clearly see the back of the wing. It was one of the reasons I always chose a window seat next to the rear emergency exit. The pilot had indeed correctly retracted the flaps fully after take-off as we slowly ascended. I took a deep breath. It was quite ironic that I knew so much about aviation yet was terrified of flying. On the other hand, perhaps it was my fear of planes that had driven me to research this area so deeply and passionately. I had spent endless hours going through articles, search engines, even logging hundreds of hours on Microsoft's flight simulator. Even so, the thought of plunging 37 thousand feet to a terrifying death still crept over me every time I took a flight.
I closed my eyes and pressed "Play" on the "Fear of Flights" hypnosis track on my iphone. It didn't really work but did accomplish to block out the irritating, continuous threatening hum of the plane engines. The engine hum reminded me of a predator waiting silently in the darkness of a cave. Watching and patiently calculating the correct millisecond to prance. Suddenly the plane jerked abruptly to the left but then quickly (and thankfully) stabilised. I swallowed (realising I hadn't done so for a few minutes). Turbulence. Nothing to worry about. I looked out of the plane. The skies were clear so I could clearly see the terrain beneath us. That's when I started making the same silly calculations I promised I would never perform again in my head. Even my psychologist had told me to block these thoughts out when they crawled in, trying to take control of my logic. Yet here they were. I first imagined the loud explosion and deafening sound of decompression as I would be sucked out of the plane. I then looked at the position of the engine on the wing and calculated that the chances of being sucked in where minimal due to my position at the rear of the plane. I then looked down at the terrain and eyed a large lake in the distance between two mountain ridges. It would be a risk and I wasn't sure I could make the distance but it was scientifically proven that you had a larger chance of survival when impacting water rather than solid terrain. Or did you? I think I watched that in a Mythbusters episode... If I was ejected still strapped into my seat that could offer a bit more protection upon impact yet significantly impair my steering ability and distance I could travel during freefall. Of course I realised that all these thoughts were utter nonsense and that if the plane were to explode and somehow eject us, the chances of survival of a free fall from 37 thousand feet (given the certainty of a blackout due to lack of oxygen and freezing temperatures) were zero! I shook my head and tried to snap out of it but looked down at the Earth once again yearning to be on the ground and as far away from this flying metal tube as possible. Logic, please come back. I took another deep breath and recalled my google search that "The likelihood of dying in a plane crash or even being in one is so slim it's almost pointless to quantify. According to The Economist, the probability of your plane going down is around one in 5. 4 million."
In the cockpit Captain Stel stared at his radio in disbelief.
Still no response from Larnaca Air Traffic Control. It had been 20 minutes since their last transmission which he was still trying to decode in his brain. So eerie. So confusing. Air Traffic Control had issued a Mayday! "Attention all aircraft. Mayday. Mayday. We are gonna get hit. Oh my God..."
The plane jolted once more as the 10km meteor impacted the Earth on the opposite side of the planet about 18 thousand kilometres away in the Atlantic Ocean creating a 200km crater and setting off a global firestorm ignition escorted by earthquakes, hurricanes and tsunami waves that began devouring every living creature and structure on the ground.
Captain Stel looked at his radar monitor in disbelief as the terrain indications disappeared together with the airport beacon. There was nothing left below. He turned to the co-pilot.  We have nowhere to land.
I looked out of the window again and noticed that the sky had turned into an amber colour and what appeared to be dust clouds were gathering below us concealing our view of the ground. How beautiful I thought calming down. The engines continued humming steadily and for the first time I relaxed in my seat.