Noble Intentions: Season Two (Episodes 6-10) by L.T. Ryan
Authors: L.T. Ryan
Tags: Mystery & Thrillers
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“emergency” and “landing” stood out to her.
She hugged the little girl tighter, pulling her into her chest. She leaned over and across the little girl’s head and neck.
The last moments of the flight were filled only with the roar of the wind. No creaks. No groans. No screams. No cries. Just the wind. Louder than she had ever heard it in her life.
The plane hit the ground and the wind stopped and the sound of metal grating against metal began. Things that weren’t meant to twist and bend were twisting and bending. They snapped and tore. The screams and cries returned.
Clarissa felt her body being jarred left and right and up and down. Something smacked her head. Or had she smacked her head into something? It didn’t matter. She fell unconscious.
* * *
The first feeling Clarissa had was dread. The real danger in a crash was smoke and fire and broken limbs. She felt the heat of the fire. She swam in the black smoke. She wiggled her toes, then rolled her ankles, then bent her knees. Nothing felt broken.
A hand ran through her hair. She turned her head and saw the little girl kneeling in her seat.
“Are you OK?” the girl asked.
Clarissa sat up, rising further into the cloud of smoke.
“Yes. We need to get out of here.”
The girl nodded.
“I want you to get out of the seat and crouch down low,” Clarissa said. “Stay close to me.”
The little girl got out of her seat and dropped to her knees in the aisle. She made herself low and kept her eyes on Clarissa’s.
Clarissa slid out of her seat. She knelt down as low as she could while still allowing herself to move. It took a moment to remember which side of the plane she was on. Once she had her bearings straight, she began to move toward the back of the plane. She looked to her right, at the seat she had previously occupied. The seat had been crushed. If she had remained there, she’d be dead.
She continued on. Felt the heat of the fire, but couldn’t see its glow. Where was the fire? Would the smoke block it out completely?
Clarissa’s plan was simple. Find the tear in the side of the plane and get the hell out.
She inched her way to the back of the plane with the little girl close behind. The heavy smoke skewed any view of her surroundings. Clarissa had no idea what lay ahead. The plane could be split at any point. They could fall into a crack and get stuck. She operated on blind faith.
A few feet later Clarissa made out the shape of the hole in the fuselage. It appeared to be huge. At least thirty feet in width.
The smoke started to thin, rushing up to the ceiling and out through the hole. Clarissa abandoned her crouching position and stood with her back hunched over. She motioned for the little girl to rise.
A fire raged inside the plane beyond the hole. The desperate cries of the survivors in the back of the plane carried through the blaze and rode along with the smoke. Clarissa wanted to run to them. Help them. Save them. Impossible, though. She knew it. Her heart ached and tears flooded her eyes. How many survivors would perish?
The real danger in a crash was smoke and fire and broken limbs.
Her skin felt like it was going to melt against the heat of the fire. Her throat ached from the smoke stained air. She walked a fine line between life and death, and that is why, despite the panic and desperation, she fought her way to the hole in the side of the plane.
They reached the opening. Her heart pounded harder in her chest. So close to freedom. Still so close to death. Clarissa grabbed the little girl. Picked her up and held her tight to her chest. The plane was tilted on its side and the drop from the hole to the ground was only a few feet. She carefully positioned herself on the edge and jumped. She navigated through the wreckage, picking up speed the further they got from the plane.
Emergency vehicles approached with their high beams flashing and strobe lights turning. Sirens filled the air. For a moment Clarissa was happy to hear
She hugged the little girl tighter, pulling her into her chest. She leaned over and across the little girl’s head and neck.
The last moments of the flight were filled only with the roar of the wind. No creaks. No groans. No screams. No cries. Just the wind. Louder than she had ever heard it in her life.
The plane hit the ground and the wind stopped and the sound of metal grating against metal began. Things that weren’t meant to twist and bend were twisting and bending. They snapped and tore. The screams and cries returned.
Clarissa felt her body being jarred left and right and up and down. Something smacked her head. Or had she smacked her head into something? It didn’t matter. She fell unconscious.
* * *
The first feeling Clarissa had was dread. The real danger in a crash was smoke and fire and broken limbs. She felt the heat of the fire. She swam in the black smoke. She wiggled her toes, then rolled her ankles, then bent her knees. Nothing felt broken.
A hand ran through her hair. She turned her head and saw the little girl kneeling in her seat.
“Are you OK?” the girl asked.
Clarissa sat up, rising further into the cloud of smoke.
“Yes. We need to get out of here.”
The girl nodded.
“I want you to get out of the seat and crouch down low,” Clarissa said. “Stay close to me.”
The little girl got out of her seat and dropped to her knees in the aisle. She made herself low and kept her eyes on Clarissa’s.
Clarissa slid out of her seat. She knelt down as low as she could while still allowing herself to move. It took a moment to remember which side of the plane she was on. Once she had her bearings straight, she began to move toward the back of the plane. She looked to her right, at the seat she had previously occupied. The seat had been crushed. If she had remained there, she’d be dead.
She continued on. Felt the heat of the fire, but couldn’t see its glow. Where was the fire? Would the smoke block it out completely?
Clarissa’s plan was simple. Find the tear in the side of the plane and get the hell out.
She inched her way to the back of the plane with the little girl close behind. The heavy smoke skewed any view of her surroundings. Clarissa had no idea what lay ahead. The plane could be split at any point. They could fall into a crack and get stuck. She operated on blind faith.
A few feet later Clarissa made out the shape of the hole in the fuselage. It appeared to be huge. At least thirty feet in width.
The smoke started to thin, rushing up to the ceiling and out through the hole. Clarissa abandoned her crouching position and stood with her back hunched over. She motioned for the little girl to rise.
A fire raged inside the plane beyond the hole. The desperate cries of the survivors in the back of the plane carried through the blaze and rode along with the smoke. Clarissa wanted to run to them. Help them. Save them. Impossible, though. She knew it. Her heart ached and tears flooded her eyes. How many survivors would perish?
The real danger in a crash was smoke and fire and broken limbs.
Her skin felt like it was going to melt against the heat of the fire. Her throat ached from the smoke stained air. She walked a fine line between life and death, and that is why, despite the panic and desperation, she fought her way to the hole in the side of the plane.
They reached the opening. Her heart pounded harder in her chest. So close to freedom. Still so close to death. Clarissa grabbed the little girl. Picked her up and held her tight to her chest. The plane was tilted on its side and the drop from the hole to the ground was only a few feet. She carefully positioned herself on the edge and jumped. She navigated through the wreckage, picking up speed the further they got from the plane.
Emergency vehicles approached with their high beams flashing and strobe lights turning. Sirens filled the air. For a moment Clarissa was happy to hear
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