Casualties of the Rank and File

It takes you a moment to realize that the crash hadn't instantaneously killed you. But your relief is short lived, as you hear the creaking of metal and the gushing of water. Damp moisture collects at your feet. Looking behind you, you see that several of the windows in the back of the airplane have been blown inward from the of impact. While many of the circular disks of glass remain whole, even after their removal, several of the passengers in their accompanying seats were not so lucky, having been blasted in the face with the hunks of glass and killed within seconds. Others, having been bashed in their head by the seat in front of them, lay slumped over and . Even more suffer from minor injuries or simply sit dazed from the sudden impact.

The plane begins to tilt slowly, seeming to favor the backend. Water rushes forth.

One of the flight attendants screams at the top of her lungs,

Flight Attendant: “The front exit! THE FRONT EXIT!!”

The plane begins to lift its frontend back into the air, in a sad imitation of flight. People scramble, shoving and pushing others out of the way to get to the exit, the rafts stuck in the tailend of the airplane forgotten in their urgency to leave. Others try to wake the or tend to the injured. Some try to help their loved ones or companions who in shocked disbelief remain seated and unwilling to move. You turn to Annabel who is sitting completely ridged. Though physically unharmed, her face is as white as a sheet.

You: “Anna! We need to get off the plane NOW!”

Annabel seems to stares at nothing and remains completely still.

Annabel: “…N… No…”

She’s scared. If I don’t do something, she’s just going to sit her like a petrified statue and drown with all the others who're too terrified to move…

You stand up quickly, and take a look down the corridor of the plane.

I need to get the inflatable rafts working.

You returning your attention back to Annabel,

You: “Anna, I’ll be right back.”

You move to go to the back of the airplane, but something stops you.

Annabel: “W... Wait John! Don’t go! ...Please, don’t go…”

Anna reaches out, locking her hand around your wrist, fear in her eyes.

You: “Anna, I need to check if we can still get to the inflatable rafts! We need that lifeboat if we’re going to make it, you and I both know that... You need to let me go check! ...Please, it’s our only option…”

You: “Please… Let go of me…”

Anna holds your wrist firm but doesn't look at you.

Annabel: “...I thought…”

She trails off.

Her grip softens a little but she continues to look away. You take this as consent and begin slowly removing her hand, finger by finger, from your wrist.

You: “Give me three minutes, if I’m not back in-”

Anna’s eyes widen.

Annabel: “Johnathan!”

Annabel looks both scared and angry with what you were about to say.

You: “Right, I’ll be back in three minutes…”

Moving swiftly down the plane’s walkway, you approach the edge of the water, which has risen about a third of the way up the aisle, volumes more continue pouring in through the gaping holes where windows used to be. Stepping into the cold water you wade your way to the back, and feel around with your right hand. Groping in the water your fingertips passes over a handle to what you think is likely a sliding door for a hatch in the floor. Struggling with all your might, you pull it to one side. The cavity underneath immediately floods with sea water. Reaching around inside, you find something. You grab onto any handhold you can get and heave. What emerges is a large orange cylindrical tube, about three to three-and-a-half feet tall, with a grip and a cord. Along its side are instructional diagrams and several warnings. You hurriedly tuck it under your arm, preparing to leave.

You hear splashing coming up behind you and turn to look.

Flight Attendant: “Oh thank goodness! We need those quickly! If you’re able to reach any more, please bring them as well. And hurry, we don’t have much time!”

She tries to take the canister from you and for a split second you consider ignoring her and leaving with it.

You needed to get back to Anna.

You needed that raft.

What am I thinking? She’s going to go set up the raft to allow people to escape. Including Anna!

Reluctantly you part with it.

The flight attendant quickly makes her way back up the aisle and you return to what you were previously doing. Plunging your right hand back into the obscured water, you grasp for anything else that might be down there. Again you feel something. Struggling you begin its extraction when suddenly you hear a loud bang, your hand goes numb, and a hissing sound gurgles from below. Wide eyed you realize that one of the cords for the inflatable lifeboats must have gotten caught on something and went off. You withdraw your hand which now has a deep purple coloration in a few places, cradling it you curse silently to yourself. Taking a moment to recollected youself, you try again, this time using your left hand. You tentatively grope around but only a rough patch of fabric and hardened rubber greets your fingertips, taut from being blown full of air and unbudging. You continue to struggle with it for a few more seconds, but quickly conclude that it is a futile effort.

There won’t be any more rafts.

Sullen but understanding the need for haste, you jog back up the hall of the plane. There are only a few people still aboard: the and injured who didn’t have someone to tend to them in the hurry, and the even fewer who remain seated, too afraid to so much as move an inch. Anna was nowhere to be found. You breathe a small sigh of relief. Glancing at the other passengers, you resolve with yourself that there are too many to help on your own. No other able-bodied and right of mind person was here besides you. Hating yourself for it, but still wanting to live, you leave them all behind. Sprinting, you finally make it to the exit and stand at its lip, the airplane’s front now raised quite a ways up from the water. Frantically you scan the sea. You barely notice a lifeboat which sits at the edge of your vision. The people aboard are too far away to make out, but you can tell it's packed well beyond what it normally should carry. In the water you see several other people, most likely those that left the soonest though fewer in number, clinging to the sides of the raft. You guess that some of them gave up swimming to land and went back for the lifeboat. Many heads bob up and down in the water, people forgoing the raft altogether in favor of swimming. The waves are still numerous and violent. You watch as several people are swept away despite their efforts.

Your hand throbs in pain.

Your hand.

Damn, I have . I have to swim.

You look down at the water which churns below you, then back to the raft drifting in the distance.

She’ll make it out of this safely, I know she will… Now, I just need to do the same…

You take a step forward and plunge into the icy water. The cold shock of the sea enveloping your body electrifies you and fills you with energy you didn’t know you still had. The pain in your right hand recedes ever so slightly.

You start slowly making your way to shore.

It wasn’t the sandy beach you had originally planned on, but you were grateful for it none the less.