Free Web NovelChapter 173: ~ 173
Chapter 173
~ Franklin ~
Darkness didn’t feel like darkness. It felt like an immense, suffocating pressure, heavy and unrelenting, as if the weight of the entire world pressed down on my chest, crushing the life from my bones. There was no up, no down, no sense of self—just an endless void filled with muffled, chaotic sounds that echoed like distant thunder. For a terrifying moment, I didn’t know where I was or even who I was. It was as if death had claimed me, pulling me into its silent embrace.
Then the pain hit. Not gradually, but like a living beast slamming into me with feral force. It tore through my chest, splintered my ribs, ignited every nerve in my skull and limbs all at once. My body convulsed violently. Air rushed into my starving lungs in a brutal gasp, yanking me back from the abyss. I choked, coughed violently, and tasted the sharp tang of blood—metallic and warm—coating my tongue.
My eyes snapped open. Everything was bathed in a hazy red glow, and for a heart-stopping second, I thought it was blood flooding my vision. Panic surged through me like wildfire. I tried to move, but my limbs felt leaden, unresponsive, trapped in some twisted nightmare. The light flickered weakly—emergency lighting, not blood. A shaky breath of relief escaped me, but it shattered instantly as memories crashed back in vivid, merciless detail: the plane’s violent shudder, blaring alarms, the sickening lurch of impact, and the final, catastrophic crash.
My chest tightened with raw terror. I forced myself to shift, ignoring the fire ripping through my side. A blinding stab of pain lanced from my ribs, freezing me in place. I clenched my teeth, a low groan tearing from my throat. Everything was wrong—terribly, irreversibly wrong. Shards of jagged metal protruded from my right leg, pinning me like some grotesque anchor. I sucked in ragged breaths, willing my mind to push past the agony clawing at my sanity. My fingers twitched first, then my arm. Slowly, agonizingly, I pushed against the mangled metal beneath me, hauling my upper body upright.
The pain in my leg exploded anew, white-hot and nauseating. I paused, panting hard, sweat stinging my eyes as the wave crested but refused to recede. It settled deep, a constant companion I would have to endure. I scanned the wreckage, and a chill colder than death settled over me.
What remained of the cabin no longer resembled an airplane. It looked like some apocalyptic beast had torn it apart in a fit of rage—metal twisted into unnatural shapes, seats ripped from their moorings and scattered like broken toys, shards of glass glittering ominously under the dim red emergency lights like scattered diamonds from a forgotten life. The air grew thick and acrid, heavy with lingering smoke that clawed at my throat. Beneath it lurked the sharp, suffocating reek of jet fuel and smoldering plastics, and something far worse: the faint, coppery undertone of blood and charred flesh. I swallowed hard, shoving the horrifying thought aside before it could consume me.
My gaze landed on Ian’s body, flung like a discarded rag doll against a pile of twisted debris on the far side. Desperation fueled me. My legs trembled too weakly to stand, so I dragged myself forward on elbows and hands, every inch sending fresh agony screaming through my body. "Ian?" My voice came out as a weak rasp, barely cutting through the oppressive silence. "Ian?"
No response. I crawled closer, groaning with each movement that jarred my injured leg. "Ian, come on... wake up, please." I reached him and began pulling debris away, my hands slick with sweat and grime. Still nothing. My heart hammered wildly as I pressed two fingers to his neck, searching desperately for a pulse.
Nothing. No flutter, no life. A shard of cabin metal had impaled his chest, a cruel final blow. Ian was gone.
A silent cry lodged in my throat, then burst out as a raw, frustrated yell. "No! Ian! No!" I shook him harder, but his body only shifted limply, lifeless. A cold, hollow void opened in my chest, swallowing hope. Panic clawed at me, brutal and unrelenting. I released him, forcing myself onward through the wreckage, dragging my battered form while trying to block out the searing pain that threatened to pull me under.
I reached what was left of the main cabin—or what I could recognize of it amid the devastation. "Raquel!" I shouted, my voice cracking with desperation. Silence answered. "Raquel!" I called again, scanning frantically through the rubble. Nothing. Grief and exhaustion weighed on me like chains, but then—a faint, weak moan pierced the quiet.
My head snapped toward the sound. There she was, partially buried under a collapsed section of ceiling and seats, her body barely stirring. Relief flooded me so intensely it nearly stole my breath again. I crawled to her side as quickly as my broken body allowed. "Raquel? Hey, can you hear me?"
Her eyes remained closed, unresponsive. A thin trail of blood trickled down the side of her face, weaving into her matted hair. My hands worked feverishly yet gently, clearing away debris while murmuring, "Stay with me, Raquel. Please." I pressed my fingers to her neck. Her pulse was there—weak, thready, but present. "Okay... okay," I exhaled shakily. She was alive. In this hell, that was everything.
A deeper groan echoed from the crushed cockpit ahead. Ignoring the burning protest from my legs and the way my vision blurred at the edges, I pushed forward with every ounce of remaining strength. "Captain!" I called out.
The cockpit door hung precariously, twisted and buckled inward like a warped portal to chaos. I shoved it open with a grunt. Inside was pure devastation: the control panel shattered beyond recognition, erratic sparks dancing from exposed wires, acrid smoke curling lazily. Captain Harris slumped forward in his seat, blood soaking the front of his uniform, his breathing shallow and labored.
"Captain, stay with me," I urged, moving closer. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy. "...Mr. Flemington..." he rasped, voice barely audible over the dying hum of the wreckage.
"Yes, I’m here, Harris." My words came rushed, tight with dread.
His chest rose and fell unevenly as he struggled to speak. "...We didn’t... we didn’t make it..." A wet hitch interrupted him.
"I know," I muttered, throat constricting. "But you’re going to be fine. Just hold on—"
He shook his head weakly, summoning the last of his strength. "No... listen... Rescue... won’t come fast. The forest... too dense..." Each word cost him visibly, his face paling further. "You have to... get out... yourself..." frёewebηovel.cѳm
"Don’t talk like that, Harris," I pleaded, but he was already slipping. His eyes met mine for one final, lucid second—haunted, resigned—before the light faded completely. Silence fell, heavy and final.
Harris was gone. Ian was gone. Only Raquel remained, clinging to life by a fragile thread.
I crawled back out slowly, my mind no longer drowning in shock but sharpening with cold clarity. Survival instinct took root. I dragged myself toward the jagged opening in the fuselage and emerged into the outside world.
The air hit me like a living wall—hot, humid, thick with the primal breath of the jungle. Towering trees loomed endlessly in every direction, their dense canopy forming a green prison that blocked out much of the sky. Vines twisted like serpents around ancient trunks, and the undergrowth rustled with unseen life. No clearing, no roads, no distant hum of civilization. Just the vast, unforgiving Amazon rainforest—a place where people vanished without a trace, swallowed whole by nature’s indifferent maw.
My breathing slowed, not from peace but from grim realization. Smoke still rose in thin tendrils from the wreckage behind me, a fragile signal that might never be seen through the impenetrable canopy. The lives already lost weighed on me like stones. I glanced back at the twisted metal that had once been our sanctuary, then at the wall of green ahead.
No one was coming. Not soon. Not in time.
If we were to survive, it would fall to me alone—to fight the pain, the elements, the unknown terrors lurking in this emerald hell. Raquel’s faint pulse echoed in my mind; her life now rested in my hands. The thought of failure clawed at me, but then another resolve surfaced, quiet yet razor-sharp.
My grandfather. Octavia.
My jaw tightened with fierce determination. Surviving wasn’t just about escaping this green abyss anymore. It was about clawing my way back to them—no matter the cost, no matter the blood or the miles of hostile wilderness. I would fight for every breath, every step. For her. For them. For us.
The jungle watched in silence, as if daring me to begin.
