Chapter Four: Where Are We?
1061 Words
The world hit them like a punch.
The plane lurched violently, throwing passengers against seatbacks, oxygen masks whipping free from overhead compartments like snapping cords.
Teri could barely hear over the roar of the engines — or was that the storm itself, screaming around them? She clutched the armrests with numb fingers, heart hammering against her ribs so fast she couldn’t breathe properly.
Another jolt slammed through the fuselage, pitching them sideways.
Mandy’s hand shot out, grabbing Teri’s wrist with bruising force. Across the aisle, Drew braced himself with both hands against the seat in front of him, cursing under his breath. Kyle sat rigid, one hand clenched tight around the armrest, the other gripping the seat in front of him, steady as stone.
There was a sharp crack overhead — a sound Teri didn’t even want to guess at — and then…
Darkness.
⸻
The world came back in pieces.
The heavy weight of her own body.
The dull pounding behind her eyes.
The sticky warmth of blood trailing down her forehead.
Teri blinked against a too-bright sky, colors swirling overhead that didn’t belong. Not clear blue. Not storm gray. Something else — too sharp, too vivid, like oil and water smeared across a canvas.
The plane…
She jerked upright with a gasp and immediately regretted it. Pain lanced through her side. She bit down hard, forcing herself to breathe, to think.
Seatbelts dangled above empty rows.
Crumpled trays littered the aisle.
The plane — or what was left of it — tilted awkwardly to one side, half-swallowed by thick, tall grass and tangled vines that looked nothing like the normal Texas landscape she knew.
They’d landed.
But… where?
⸻
“Mandy?” Teri croaked.
No response.
Her heart thudded painfully. She forced herself to turn, her entire body aching like she’d been tossed in a dryer.
Mandy was slumped in her seat, pale but breathing. A thin gash ran along her temple, trickling blood, but when Teri touched her shoulder, Mandy flinched and groaned.
“Wake up,” Teri whispered, urgent and shaking. “Please wake up.”
After a few agonizing seconds, Mandy’s eyes cracked open.
“What the hell…” she rasped, struggling to sit up.
Teri helped her, supporting her weight as best she could.
“We’re down,” Teri said, glancing wildly around the broken cabin. “But I don’t know where.”
Mandy’s blue eyes sharpened fast, survival instinct kicking in.
She looked past Teri toward the open emergency door where tall grass and twisting vines almost swallowed the frame.
“This… isn’t an airport,” Mandy said grimly.
No sirens.
No flashing emergency lights.
No shouting rescue crews.
Just silence.
Heavy, pressing, unnatural.
⸻
A low groan to their right made them both jolt.
Across the aisle, Drew sat hunched over, blood trickling from a cut above his eyebrow, his hoodie torn and streaked with dirt.
He muttered something inaudible and tried to stand — then immediately sat back down, clutching his ribs.
Kyle stirred beside him, blinking slowly like someone dragging himself back from the edge of unconsciousness.
“You good?” Drew croaked, his voice rough.
Kyle just nodded once, silent but solid.
Teri unbuckled her seatbelt with fumbling fingers. The click sounded loud in the otherwise dead air.
“We have to get out,” she said, voice shaking. “Now.”
Mandy pushed herself upright with a wince. “Agreed.”
Drew glanced at them, grimacing like he’d swallowed something bitter.
“No arguments here.”
⸻
Moving hurt.
Everything hurt.
Teri climbed awkwardly over broken trays and spilled bags, fighting the tilt of the cabin.
Mandy moved faster once she found her footing, her gym-trained body ignoring the bruises and aches in favor of sheer stubborn momentum.
Kyle moved next, his movements stiff but controlled.
Drew followed, slower, one arm wrapped protectively around his ribs.
As they stumbled out of the emergency door, the world hit them all over again.
And it didn’t make any sense.
⸻
The grass reached almost chest height. Strange, thick vines wound their way up shattered plane wings and broken trees nearby, their leaves an unnatural shade of deep violet.
The sky above them was a swirling mess of color — not storm gray, not ocean blue — something… other. Shades of deep teal and silver rolled in lazy, unnatural patterns like the atmosphere itself was alive.
The air smelled sharp and clean, with a hint of something metallic underneath.
No roads.
No cities.
No civilization.
Just endless, wild, alien jungle stretching in every direction.
Teri turned in a slow circle, heart hammering harder with each second.
“This… this isn’t right,” Mandy said, her voice too loud in the eerie silence.
Drew tilted his head back, staring at the shifting sky.
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Pretty sure this isn’t Texas.”
Kyle crouched briefly, running his hand through the thick, violet-tinged grass.
“It’s not anywhere I’ve ever seen,” he muttered.
Teri swallowed hard, throat dry. “Maybe we — maybe we got blown way off course?”
Mandy shook her head sharply. “This far? No way. This… this is something else.”
⸻
For a moment, none of them spoke.
The wind rustled through the grass — or what might’ve been grass — making it ripple like water.
No birds.
No insects.
No engine sounds.
Just the four of them, alone in a world that didn’t feel like it wanted them there.
⸻
Drew finally broke the silence, voice low and grim.
“Well,” he said, wincing as he shifted his weight. “Either we’re dead… or we’re seriously screwed.”
Kyle stood slowly, brushing dirt from his jeans, his expression unreadable.
“We need supplies,” he said simply. “Before nightfall.”
Teri nodded stiffly, adrenaline finally taking over the panic.
She turned back toward the broken plane.
“First aid kits. Water. Anything we can carry.”
“And weapons,” Mandy added, her eyes scanning the alien jungle like it might leap out at them.
“Anything we can use to defend ourselves.”
Because something about this place — the colors, the silence, the wrongness of the air — made her certain of one thing:
They weren’t alone.
And whatever else was out here…
It was already watching them.
- Writer
