#kindgon

he didn't get her question mark back because he flipped his phone to airplane mode. no wifi.

45 minutes into the flight. a bang. frank remembered smoke pluming from one of the engines. he didn't know why. brace. brace. heads down. stay down. brace. brace.

he checked across the aisle as the black smoke entered the cabin the plane rocked into the ground. smash. hit. mel's face was bloody. a gash across her forehead. he remembered the smell of the smoke. chemical. acrid. he thought. shit. i'm getting cancer from this. 100%.

then the water rushed in.

he grabbed mel. she had her seatbelt buckled. he didn't know how he got it off. they went out the back of the plane. which wasn't so much the back anymore but a waterfall water rushing in. with the plane 1/4 full, he grabbed a backpack that hit his ankles. more to pull it out of the way than anything else. but it caught his eye: green. camo. army.

as the cabin filled he slid it on his back. they had to wait for it to fill. sink more so they could swim.

they didn't have time to speak. so he grabbed her hand and squeezed.

then with a pop the body of the plane sunk beneath the water. he got one good long breath. let go of mel's hand and swam. the backpack became a rock at his back. but he couldn't shrug it off even if he wanted with how focused he was for hitting the surface.

he got to shore. mel did too. he lay flat back. the rock attached to him making him think - oh shit. that decision could've killed me.

as he looked out on the clear cool waters of the lake he realized they might not be found. no plume of smoke. big green pine trees flanked the sides of the shoreline. he scanned and didn't see any docks. no signs of life.

mel flopped next to him. half awake. half dead maybe. in shock. but he examined her. head laceration. fractured radius if he had to guess from the bruising and her explanation of a heavy bag hitting it. concussion. maybe severe. she didn't make much sense. her eyes had a glassy quality to them.

he sat next to her and rummaged through the backpack: a wet sweatshirt. a waterbottle. resuable. nalgene. he handed to her and told her to drink it. two granola bars. a laptop (useless). wires. three pens. a soaked stephen king novel. one very small flashlight with a compass at its base (keychain).

the first day it was easy not to panic. wait.

the second day. less so.

we've gotta move, frank told mel. she didn't believe him. she wanted to wait by the crash site.

but they didn't hear helicopters overhead. no planes looking for them.

south, they needed to head south. they'd been headed up to ottowa, so south would roughly push them back to the united states. more densely populated areas.

mel, we're going to starve, he told her. that's what happened on those wilderness survival shows. berries wouldn't cut it.

something, somehow, someday .

Kingdon November Microfic Challenge

Day 1: Spirit

Pairing: Frank Langdon/Melissa “Mel” King

Word Count: 491

Content Warnings: None

pls tell me you see the vision