Blood ran down his face and blinded his eyes. Blood mixed with sweat, that stung as he tried to wipe his sight clear. The lights flickered in the cabin to the rhythm of the alarm bursts. The cockpit window was smeared with what seemed to be mud or sludge. The view out obscured.
He looked around at his surroundings and groaned. Just the mere movement sent a wave of pain shuttering through his body. Something internal, he thought.
Upon first inspection, the entire crew was missing. Was he left, presumed dead? How could that be? He has no recollection of blacking out. He remembers the whole series of events leading up to the crash. Everything up to this moment.
As he struggles to unbuckle his harness he sees blood smeared across the floor. The gruesome trails lead to the cabin exit, yet the cabin exit remained closed.
His mind and body wanted to shift into a panic, but he knows he can’t afford to. Not until he has a better understanding of what is going on. He tries to clear the cockpit windshield to get a feel for where he is. The wipers aren’t functioning. All systems are down.
He tries the exit door. Its jammed or blocked from the outside. Leaning against the exit door, he can feel that there is something out there. He can hear it too. A calm steady tap, tap, tapping. Hurriedly he tries to open the weapons vault. The tapping is getting louder and stronger. He fights with the vault code. Scrambles to get it open. The electronic lock release has malfunctioned.
The tapping is turning into a banging now. With no defense, nor knowledge of what approaches, he sits back, facing the exit. Waiting to meet what is on the other end.
A Page a Day 