Path of Ranger: Volume 1 (14 page)

Alex and Vladimir sat behind the others near the window. Alex was watching a movie while his comrade was asleep. Suddenly, a thirst interrupted that warm dream. Being a bit annoyed by it, Vova opened his eyes searching for something to drink. There were a couple bottles of water on the seat next to the window. The guy shook his friend’s elbow. Alex took off the headphones.

“Sup, man?”

“Pass me the bottle, please.”

“Yeah, right.”

Just as Alex turned, his headphones slipped on the floor. He lowered, reaching after them. While Alex was searching for the headphones under the seat, Vova couldn’t take it anymore and bent over him to get the drink himself. The bottle was in his hand, but just as he was to sitting back, he saw something that stunned him. The guy stared into the window. There was a strange fog and a clump of clouds in the sky. But the most fascinating thing was the green lightning. When straightening up, Alex bumped into Vladimir's shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Look, man. Is that for real?” Vova couldn’t take his eyes off the illumination.

Alex stalled as well when he looked out there. The colors of the lightning were changing: green, blue, red, yellow, white, all of the spectrum. A thick dark-greenish fog coated the sky. It didn’t look a bit natural , at least the guys didn’t believe it.

"Is that normal?" Vladimir kept expressing his wonderment. "I don't fly much... Are those flashes always like that, when you see them this high?"

It still was quiet. Vova took a look around to check the other passengers’ reactions. Most of them were asleep. It seemed as if those two were the first to notice the anomaly.

“Think we should tell the others?” Vladimir suggested.

“Are you kidding? The plane will go nuts then.”

“What do we do?”

“The pilots have to be aware by now, that’s for sure. They got to make an announcement or something,” Alex was thinking out loud. “Let’s shut the window for now.”

The guys watched the stewardess find other passengers who saw the same thing. Almost every window was closed. There weren’t that many people aware of it. Suddenly, the stewardess rushed through the rows towards the head of the plane.

“Yep, they know,” Alex commented.

The boys kept watching the half-opened curtain of the flight attendant area. They had a good view of first class space from there too. After a few minutes the doors of the cockpit opened. Six stewardesses went out from there at once. They dispersed, each to her working spots. The ‘buckle up’ sign went glowing. One of the stewardesses picked up the phone to make an announcement. She tried to look confident, put a fake smile on her face, but her eyes couldn’t lie. She was desperate.

“Attention, passengers! Attention, passengers!” the woman tried to wake up all those who were sleeping. “Ladies and gentlemen! We have a minor weather inconvenience. Please, use your seat belts, do not leave your seats. Please, follow the instructions of flight personnel. We are sorry for the inconvenience.”

The stewardess hung up the phone to get to her own seat. She hurried up.

With people being awoken the noise raised up all over the plane. No one explained what was happening. The picture in the windows was horrifying. The talk about ‘green storm’ with colored lightning rolled over the aircraft. A panic emerged.

It was new to everyone. And it was sure scary as hell to all of them.

“They can’t reach the control,” one of the stewardesses said to another. Only JB could hear that since he sat closer than anyone to the flight attendant area. “The connection is lost.”

JB checked his phone to see if there was any signal. Nothing. He looked at others, they were doing the same. Nevertheless, he didn’t panic. Moreover, he wasn’t afraid or confused either. JB felt a sudden change in his strength like he had been powered up. His head went spinning and goose bumps grew on his skin. It seemed pleasant, though. He took a deep breath, the feeling grew. The big guy handled himself, waited for further situational development. It wasn’t a time to panic.

The lightning storm came closer. It consumed the plane. Now the flashes were appearing right behind the windows. Their sparkling filled the surrounding area.  If that view weren't deadly terrifying, it would be truly beautiful to observe from aside.

Every cabin was full of scared to death people. Lots of them lost it, going shouting and screaming, making it even worse. Vertigo faded the sense of reality for many of them. Surprisingly the captain went out of the cabin. He was a tall Caucasian man with perfect posture and confident gait. His face was as manly as a face could be, a big wide jaw, a straight nose, and a firm look. He radiated confidence.

The captain took a good look at passengers and went to the spot where a phone was. His face appeared on every screen of the plane.

“Attention, passengers!” he said through the intercom. “My name is Josh Skyman. I’m the captain of this flight. We are facing a hard situation here, folks. We don’t know the nature of the anomaly that surrounded our plane, and we can’t reach the control center. As a measure of precaution, we won’t follow our original path anymore. Soon my team and I are going to make an emergency landing. Please, be alerted. Follow all of the instructions by the flight personnel.” The captain made a short pause. “We have to be strong. May God be with us.”

After a short briefing, the captain went back to the cockpit. He didn’t say anything reassuring, or something that might give them a shallow hope, but his face looked confident. The people had a bit of relief, at least they were instructed. The passengers much like the flight crew trusted that man.

The people kept watching the doors to the cabin at least a half a minute after it closed. And just as a beam of hope came to their hearts, a sudden flash erupted. This one was enormous, it lit all of the windows at once. A new wave of panic rolled through the plane. JB was the only one who kept still in his section.

Another burst followed. People drowned in screams. Then the lightning outside began getting smaller, soon it was gone. The situation calmed down. The passengers held their breath, waiting for a new flash or something. And there it was. The plane went shaking with very significant turbulence. The luggage was flying all over the inside of the aircraft. Air masks fell down from the ceiling. The intercom speakers were sizzling, it seemed like the captain was trying to pass a message, but it was smothered.

The shaking grew. People started noticing that their stuff was falling in the direction of the plane’s head. The angle changed. They were falling.

Besides the shaking, the flashes returned. Somehow it felt like an air battle, the sky was on fire. The noise was everywhere, people screamed, cried and shouted. Even the sanest person would lose his mind there. The spirit of madness was thriving. It came to an explosive point. Then suddenly, it stopped. The sounds were getting lower, the shakes were calming down and the flashes got dimmer.

In a minute, everything passed. The passengers stared into the windows, but there was nothing but a clear night sky. The silence prevailed. It was calm, just like nothing had happened.

The euphoria spirit filled the air. People were happy. Everything was behind, they got to live. The air was warming up, it felt pleasant, coating each one of them to let know that everything was going to be alright. That warmth felt like something beautiful, something that brought hope. They almost forgot what was going on a couple minutes ago.

Sitting in his spot JB was watching others. He felt different, everyone around him was immobilized. He wasn’t. That warm got all others asleep. It was getting to him too, but he tried to fight it. The struggle exhausted him. He kept his face straight, it was more an intellectual resistance. Soon he lost his ability to move as well. The first drop of blood fell down from his nose. A vision in front of him became unclear, he lost his focus. His eyes were closing. He almost lost consciousness.

There were seconds left for him, he knew it. With all the strength left, JB turned his head to see what was going on outside the plane. There was nothing in the windows but light. It gained brightness with each second. Everyone else looked dead to him, he wasn’t sure of that, but his hunch was saying that he was the only one conscious there.

The light fog kept filling the plane. There was nothing more, just a light. JB couldn’t resist anymore. His eyes shut. He blacked out after all.

It was quiet there, not a single sound. Perfect silence. The darkness was before JB’s eyes. Nothing to obstruct him from his thoughts. There were no fears or worries to cloud that perfect mood. He did realize that it was just a dream. However, it was such a delight that he didn’t want to wake up. He wished to stay there forever, just himself and no one else. Nevertheless, Bridgers was gradually coming back to reality.

Trying to stay there JB fought for any opportunity to prolong the dream. The natural order of things took over. A thin beam of light cracked through the pitch blackness. It was ruined. No more of the perfect feeling which was bringing him joy. It was time to wake up, get back to the real life, to the fuss, the people, to everything he hated so much.

While opening his eyes, JB was expecting a sharp sun beam to cut his sight. So he didn’t rush, he took it very slowly, letting his eyes adjust. In a few seconds Bridgers realized that there was no bright light, in fact, he was caught in darkness. It was night. Judging by a fresh chill he was somewhere outside, it didn’t feel like a plane’s cabin anymore. His ears were blocked by constant ringing; it didn’t come from a particular source but was within his head. JB felt hungry for air, wanted to take a deep breath, but he was afraid of doing that. His breathing was quiet and slow. He still knew nothing about the situation, so it seemed right to not draw attention before being sure that it was safe.

JB braced himself and opened his eyes wide to look around. He still was buckled into the airplane seat. The plane was crashed. A big hole gaped near JB, as a large piece of the fuselage was torn off. JB could see the sky from there. It was dark, covered in clouds, not a single star in it. A better half of the seats were missing, along with their passengers. There were just holes were their spots were. Obviously, the plane suffered a crash, the mystery was where it ended up.

With his vision adjusted, JB found himself in a tropic jungle. It was dark, but there was some dim light coming from various flaming parts of the aircraft. The background was formed with the palm trees and lots of various shrubs. In front of that there was a trace of dirt hills in a mix with broken trees and more vegetation. Looked like the plane cut its way through a part of the jungle when falling. The metal parts lay everywhere, reflecting the flame light with their shiny coating.

When JB made sure that it was safe, he unbuckled the belt and made a try to get up from the seat. It wasn’t that easy, though. The plane lay at an angle with its head above the tail. One had to climb to get out of there. Before starting further movement, JB scanned himself carefully to gain confidence that he didn’t have any major injuries after the crash. There were some scratches and small bruises, but generally he was fine.

He looked back to check the exit. It was gone. The part of the fuselage, where the flight attendant area was supposed to be, got obliterated. Suddenly JB felt a pressure in his chest, a small panic attack. The flames outside seemed to get bigger, the fire hazard made Bridgers worry. He had to find another way out, and fast.

The JB’s neighbor was still there, next to him. Because of the darkness JB couldn’t tell if the guy was dead or alive. He put his fingers on the man’s neck to check the pulse. The man was dead.

It was quiet. Deadly silence thrived. JB just realized that he might be the only survivor there. He looked at the hole in the fuselage to estimate its potential to be his exit. The hole was quite far from where he sat, closer to the cockpit. Then there was about thirty feet of height to the ground. It looked tough, but there was no other way.

JB braced up and climbed on the cushion. He held on to the seat in front of him to not fall. Something he noticed stalled him. With the new position, a new view opened to him. There were lots of passengers left there, and each one seemed dead. One might consider that a great tragedy, but not him. The JB’s foremost concern was whether or not those dead corpses would be an obstacle to him.

He reached towards his leather backpack which was hanging on the armrest to throw it on his shoulder. Then he grabbed the upper seat once more and climbed upon it.

About twenty-five feet left. The following move was to jump to the next row. JB’s strength made it quite easy. With that leap, he almost reached his destination. Although, a new inconvenience appeared in that row. Two dead people were in those seats, between Bridgers and the hole. He went over them, trying to not step on each of the bodies.

“Bad luck, brother,” JB said while climbing over one of the men.

He lingered while passing, one of the passengers looked familiar to him. Then he went through his shirt pocket to take the red earphones out. The gangster was about to shove them into his own pocket but froze looking at the guy.

“Screw that. You won’t need it, anyway,” he spoke.

When reaching into the hole, JB fixed himself near the edge to look outside. The closest ground was covered in stuff that had fallen out on the crash. Some of the things were on fire, it provided that weak illumination around. The soil banks looked soft enough, but most of them held metal pieces in them.

It was time to find the way down. There were nearly three stories of height to the ground. If the jump wouldn’t kill him, the metal shreds would. JB looked around to find something like a rope or cable, maybe. After couple minutes of scanning the interior, he found nothing. That idea failed.

Bridgers looked outside to see it there was any other solution. The flames grew. He traced the fire to find a source. There was a fuel leak from the broken wing, and it seemed as if the fire was coming closer to it. JB realized that he didn’t have any more time. He had to get out of the plane right away or he might be burned alive.

The keen need of leaving the transport pushed him to the most irrational solutions. There was just one way - to jump. The only thing left to find out was how not to kill himself in the process. He handled it rather confidently, though, no panic. Just kept looking around in search for the solution. JB mostly focused on the soft soil banks that were under him. He needed some kind of safe net to ease up the fall.

The solution found itself soon. With his extremely flexible bandwidth for moral standards and low regard to dead beings, JB thought of using one of the bodies. This idea flashed through his mind earlier, but it needed some time to grow on him. The big guy turned to the nearest seats where those two dead guys were. The one closer to him was slim and scrawny, a wrong choice. The one after him was fat and obese. JB kept analyzing how to use him. The eyes of the gangster cheered with interest.

After thinking through the process, he reached out for the man. He picked him up via the clothes and pulled the body to himself. It was about two hundred twenty pounds of weight there. Not too much for a guy of JB’s physique. Besides, it wasn’t his first time carrying bodies, so he knew what he was doing.

The corpse got into position on the ledge. JB looked at the ground once more, then at the fire to estimate how much time he had left. He needed to hurry up. The hard part lay head. The gangster turned to the man.

“Nothing personal, dude,” he said to the dead man.

He crouched down to grab the body and pulled it up. The corpse was positioned vertically close to JB himself. He glanced down there one last time.

“That’s it. Let’s dive.”

His elbows and head tucked into the wide, soft chest of the dead guy. JB braced himself and made the slip off the ledge. Time felt different during the fall, longer. The primary concern of JB’s was to not lose his grip before landing. But it went quickly. He never closed his eyes, the speed grew instantly, the air blew in his face. Then there was a hit, a hard one, but bearable. The brunt of the impact took his body, his feet hit the soft ground, just like expected.

Bridgers took a second to make sure that he was fine. Then he released the clothes of the poor guy and pushed up to get on his feet. His head was slightly spinning, but mostly he felt good. A red stain appeared on the dead man’s white shirt. JB touched that spot to find a fragment that had spiked through the body. He looked at the poor stranger with gratitude, then he squeezed the stolen earphones in his pocket. A second after, the gangster turned around and walked away.

The possibility of the tank’s explosion grew in JB's head again, so he hurried up. He wanted to run, but the feet wouldn’t move any faster. His left leg was limping, and a slight shivering appeared in both knees. Yet, no pain. JB was sure that his feet were healthy, despite that controlling them seemed an issue for the moment. Perhaps it was a shock after the fall. Soon, when the distance from the fuselage increased, the gangster looked back to see the whole picture. He noticed something from the new perspective. Those fires that seemed to him chaotic and random were made artificially. Each fire camp was surrounded by rock circle and a hand-made dispensers fed the flames with fuel. Someone had made that. And it felt like they were visiting that place permanently. There might be other surviving passengers, so there was a chance for JB to wait for them. Unless someone else had done that. And JB didn’t like the idea of a mystery combined with a full room of dead people. He had a bad feeling about that place. It was time get out of there before it was too late.

The big guy was walking deeper and deeper into the jungle, slipping his way through the thick shrubs and tall trees. The destination wasn’t set yet, but it didn’t concern him much. There was no place to return anyway, nothing for him was left on the plane. The backpack that hung on his shoulder contained everything he needed to survive. The one question that did worry JB, though, was the mystery of where the missing passengers were.

Meanwhile, Bridgers tried to use his cellphone. It didn’t help much, though, the signal was dead. One thing that seemed weird to him was that the device lost track of time and date. At first he thought some malfunction might have happened during the magnetic storm before the crash. But then he noticed that the other phone settings and data were accurate. That made no sense to him.

JB wanted to see how much time he spent unconscious. Suddenly, he remembered that he had the mechanical watch. Perhaps that might still work. He took the gold watch out of the backpack. It was seven a.m. by Kiev time. That couldn’t be right. JB put the watch to his ear to check if it was ticking. It was. The next thing he looked at was the date. It was June the third. Two days passed after the crash. The gangster couldn’t believe it. Others, probably, had considered him dead and left him to rot inside the airplane. If there were any others.

Walking through the jungle JB did a lot of thinking. There were some questions about what caused the crash, about those fire camps around the plane, and who might have built them. All those mysteries were stocking up in his head, going over and over through his mind. The rainforest seemed more dark and dangerous to him with each step. It wasn’t his territory. He was unwanted there.

JB turned his head up to look at the sky, it was dark. Not a single star could be seen. The eerie wind blew and cold rain droplets started falling from the sky. That place was irradiating a sense of trouble. The gangster shivered.

Drop after drop of cold water was falling on JB’s face. In a minute, the rain got so thick that it completely blocked the sight. JB couldn’t see further than five feet ahead. The wind decreased, but the rain noise that replaced it was much louder. It felt like a nightmare. It was hard to breathe. The gangster thought that all that water might choke him to death.

In a while, the young survivor got a bit used to the situation. It was time to set the priorities. He needed a plan. First of all, he had to find a shelter. A dry and safe one, where he could warm up and wait until the storm passed. The second task was to find some other survivors. He could try to send a distress signal. The phone might work on the higher ground. The possibility was thin, but it was worthy of trying.

Bridgers went on.

The second hour passed since the big guy went into the jungle. He picked up a bamboo stick as a shredding instrument. His clothes were wet. And the cold got to his bones. JB's mood wasn’t the greatest, not desperate, but angry. His head still was figuring out what might have happened to the plane. Nevertheless, he accepted the crash as bad luck and was glad to be alive. It was the cold what troubled Bridgers the most. All he wanted was to get warm and have some rest.

After a while, JB got used to such conditions, and the surrounding bothered him a bit less. The prime focus went deep into his mind. He imagined the rescuers would find them, and he would sit somewhere near a fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate. The mind kept dreaming and the feet kept walking. As the jungle went thicker JB’s concentration snapped back to reality. It wasn’t the time for relaxation, hard work had to be done to keep him alive. JB paid more attention to the details, started looking more carefully around to find something useful there. Or to avoid danger at least, it was a wild territory after all.

At some point, the memories appeared to come to the surface. Some pieces of information that he gained through his lifetime. Anything he might know about the rainforest or wild nature. He had never had such an experience in real life, but those documentary films about the deadly animals and other hazards of the non-human world were terrifying. Most of all JB was concerned about the bugs, or the arthropods (as he learned to think about them) with all their crawling, venom, and webbing. He even didn’t care that much about snakes. Perhaps the rain could be to his advantage after all since it had cleared the area of most of the animals.