The Last Flight. Chapter 4 - Sex Stories

The Last Flight. Chapter 4

... nodded. “I need your help, Sir,” I said to him directly. “I need you to help me open the door.” He sniffed a little but looked up and nodded. It was then that I saw his colleague or, rather, didn't. Jemima had covered him with a coat. He had not been so lucky. I looked at her, but no words were needed as she shook her head slowly. Quickly, I showed the man what I needed him to do and left him, hoping that keeping him occupied might help him. I didn't imagine for one minute he would be able to open it though. I was surprised at how quiet the other passengers were. No-one screamed. I could hear groans and murmurs but there didn't seem to be any panic. “I think we will have to use the front pilots door,” I said to Jemima then paused, gazing at her. “Thank you,” I whispered, “I would have been lost without you.” “Funny how it takes something like this to find out who you really are,” she said. Slowly and methodically, I made my way towards the front of the cabin. It wasn't easy. The aisle was almost non-existent. There was debris strewn all over the place and, as I picked my way through the destruction I checked each seat, reassuring those who had survived and covering those who had not. At the front, my eyes began to fill. The elderly couple whom I had greeted were still sitting, unmoving in their twisted seats, both still in the brace position, leaning forwards, heads down. What upset me though was that they were still holding each others hands. I took a deep breath, covered ...

... them with some clothing that had been tossed around and focussed on getting the bulkhead door open. I turned the handle and pushed. That one, too, was stuck! I put my shoulder to it and pushed hard. It flexed and moved a little but would not open. This door was not solid like the main door, it was a connecting door which led to the short corridor through the equipment area and then the cockpit, so I barged hard against it. Once again, it shuddered but did not open. “Can someone help with this door, please,” I called back over my shoulder. And seconds later I was joined by a middle aged man who had been seated in the centre of the cabin. He was quite short and plump, but he attacked that door until, suddenly, it gave and I had to grab him to prevent him falling. I stared through the open door in disbelief. I was looking outside. There was nothing beyond, just a tangle of twisted metal. The cockpit was gone! Completely! Of the pilots there was no sign and I retched, once, twice then vomited violently. What had become of them, I could only imagine. I had to think, had to keep going. Those who had survived needed me so I wiped my mouth and returned to the cabin. The man from seat twenty-four had not succeeded in freeing the main door so the only option was to go out through the wreckage at the front. It wasn't easy. I expected to help twenty one people through the twisted and tangled metal work and to safety but, in the end, there were just nine survivors who had to climb down ...