FicWad

Dive Tamers

Chapter One

Fall from the Storm

I was in the plane all sheltered from the raging storm that bellowed outside, and very few people cared to close the window shields to keep my nerves at bay. It was bad enough they had the seatbelt sign lit red; mine was already fastened as I sat on the aisle seat with two seats separating me from the window.

The plane shook with turbulence. It was easy to feel it climbing as it went to reach altitudes higher than the clouds. I ironically have a pilot's licence, but for smaller craft. Though, I hate to fly passenger today. I love the type of flying I do.

Its quite the revelation to discover that I have such a talent. Then it doesn't hurt that I'm not a tall person, perfect height I was called. Its odd since I've never had a fondness for heights, ironic as I said before.

I'm a military test pilot, working for an independent contractors, having begun while joining the forces. I was idealistic back then. My country had sorted me out with an education, free of charge with school and then university, and all that bull. So hey. I got awesome grades. So think why not, others do it for stupider reasons. I made my mother proud with my grades. So I wanted to learn more and pay my country back a tad.

Well, I had originally figured. 'You know what, army will do'. But when I got to the recruitment office. I saw it was one of those larger buildings. It housed recruitment agencies for navy, army, and air force. However, that did not deter me from entering. I walked in and up to some guy in a camouflage uniform of different shades of green and brown.

I didn't realise that he was air force and not army! Who knew they could wear camouflage gear too? Well anyway. He got to speaking. He asked about my school, university, and whatnot on the way to his office. I'll admit to feeling really stupid that I hadn't noticed all of the air force paraphernalia around the small office, good job I wasn't applying for MI5 or I would have failed right there.

Having brought all of my papers. Identification, school and Uni certificates, proof of grades and all of that. I can say he was quite impressed. I'll admit, I wouldn't have done nearly so well at school if my mother hadn't always been so strict, growing up poor and on welfare. She didn't want that for me.

My mother was a single parent and growing up in a council estate in a rough neighbourhood wasn't easy when you want out. The 'less' smart of the community just want to cause trouble, through jealousy or whatever, it's true.

Mum hadn't liked the idea of me signing up for the forces, but I was determined, just like dad was. He was a soldier who managed to get out when the time was right, but he couldn't cope after some of the things he had seen and ended up killing himself, but I refused to be so weak.

I guess I do feel bad for him though. He was my father, and despite his problems, that the government don't seem to care about. He was a good father. He provided what he could, but it's a shame I barely remember him now after so many years.

It took me a moment, to realise this, Lieutenant or whatever. I still can't remember what his name was, just his rank. Well, anyway. He was talking about putting through an application to join the air force academy, as a pilot no less.

I had always had a fear of flying, but one try in the simulator under the controls. I realised maybe I have trust issues, or control issues, more than likely both. Therefore, I became a top sim-pilot in the forces, just out of university at nineteen.

I was never in any battle as I apparently had too much talent they didn't want to waste. So I spent a year as a military test pilot before they shipped me off to a company that they delegate too now, as all the government seems to do.

It was pretty-cool, but I always hated having someone else in the craft with me, or an annoying wingman trying to tell me what to do during training drills. I've finally found a loophole out of my original contract and now this new job.

Its hard to shake my runaway thoughts on this matter. I was knocked back, wincing as this baby in the seat in front started yelling and screaming at the top of its lungs. Like seriously can't the mother shut it up? This always happens, and I feel like strangling someone, namely the mother.

The baby's mother is just chatting away with the woman the other side of her as if nothing seemed to be royally upsetting the sprog, like lack of food or a soiled nappy. Why is it that I always have to sit so near to them? Its not that I hate babies. I just hate when they're screaming at the top of their lungs and the mother just lets them.

I have to wonder about how people can be so ill mannered. They can let the baby scream as much as they want at home, but not only do they not care, but also here, in such an enclosed space, like seriously messed up. Its giving me a class A headache, and the storm doesn't make matters any easier as the rain pelted the sides and thunder boomed ever so often with flashes of lightning.

Its amazing how everyone can get on with everything without a clue. I know the plane can easily withstand a few shots of lightning, but this is a full-scale thunderstorm. If we get pelted with two much, and let's face it we're flying a metal box of conductivity, we could lose an engine, or worse.

OK, now I'm freaking myself out. I would have flown up at awesome speeds, but then this plane is nowhere near as fast as what I've flown. Nor does it have anything like the manoeuvrability.

Though, its quite eerie how this storm just came out of nowhere. Its normally quite easy to avoid bad whether there are so many satellites and whatever else they use. Technology doesn't usually fail this bad, but I suppose nothing is perfect.

I'm starting to regret my answer when I was offered this new job. I wanted to make mum proud by earning more. That way I can make her life happier. She has done so much for me over the years. I wouldn't have become so successful without her pushing me, believing in me.

'Really. Yeah. That sounds like a great opportunity!' I had been so happy on the phone. A new job, twice the pay, and eighteen months in sunny California! Maybe I should have stayed at home, or made sure first class tickets were in my contract. That's what I get for finding my natural talent with flying aircraft.

Its just lucky that the TV in the seat is working, playing some movie or something. I don't know! It seems like a romcom, but whatever drowns out this racket. I couldn't use it fully though. I could have used it had that bit… I mean, if that woman behind me with the irritating son hadn't bought up the last two pairs of headphones for her and her annoying son! I had left my headphones in one of my suitcases to my growing horror.

I could feel my teeth clenching in anger as the stupid boy, ten or so at that. So he should know better. He wouldn't stop kicking the back to my chair. Thud, thud, it jerked me more than the blasted storm we're trying to fly out of. If that little … so in so, doesn't…

Thud!

Thud!

I couldn't leave it anymore. I span in my seat, straining at my seatbelt and glared at the boy. He held a look of frustration as he was pressing buttons on his blue coloured Nintendo DS where colourful characters fought each other with kung fu. He hadn't even noticed me. He was wearing some red headphones his mother got him.

His mother was sat next to him without a care in the world as she scoffed popcorn like the fat slob she obviously is, wearing everything elasticated to accumulate more size. Her daughter sat the other side, being younger was fast asleep. The woman obviously doesn't care, and in a few years her kids might pick up on her eating habits, if it weren't for the schools.

Though, I've heard of schools going way too far with this health food craze the 'civilised' world seems to be on. Not to mention all of this health and safety crap. I'm sure the schools and the idiotic teachers they have would like to have the parents bubble wrap them before they arrive.

When I was at school we could play any game we like. We could eat what we please, but then, back then they made us proper good dinners. Made from good fresh ingredients. I hope. That is what that Muppet Jamie Oliver was always trying to convey, not to steal kids deserts because its too chocolaty!

It drives me mad sometimes the way everyone jumps on the idiot waggon. It must be humiliating to go to school happy-go-lucky. Then go home in tears, humiliated by your teachers stealing your packed lunch because it isn't allowed. If I had, a kid and that happened to him or her! I would kick their child abusing asses. If anyone else did that… well, the law wouldn't let them get away with it, so why teachers?

My glare must of intensified, as people, friends, and colleagues say I can work myself into a rage just thinking about all of the 'political correctness' (PC) crap that douche bags take too far. Then even further in some cases! Though, I know people with kids. They know a rage greater than mine sometimes. Though, I might have some anger management issues.

The blonde haired boy looked to me. He was wearing a blue football kit. I couldn't tell what team he was supporting, neither did I care. I swear by his expression that he actually felt my cold stare. He gulped, terrified green eyes looking onto mine as he handed over his game and put his legs down, earphones pulling out of his ears as he did so.

"Do you have any idea how annoying it is to have someone constantly slamming the back of your chair?!" I demanded, my teal green eyes likely darkening as I've been told they do when I'm angry.

He shook his head frantically. "S-sorry," he whimpered, terrified of me, and rightly so, the little brat… augh, bloody kids, yep, probably never want them for myself.

I couldn't hold the sigh of exhaustion as I just shoved his game back into his hands and rolled my eyes as I don't want to be a hypocrite and take the toy like I'm his teacher and it was chocolate.

"If you kick my seat again. I won't give it back next time, understand?!" I demanded, giving him the 'I'm evil and use little kids in my potions' look. I of course have my limits, and kicking my seat deserves his treat taken from him for not behaving.

He nodded his head frantically. "Y-yes!" he squeaked out and I pulled back, round into my seat with the annoyed thought that I could have stolen his headphones. A present from him as an apology. He would have let me have them too.

I sigh as that baby is still screaming and I'm not the only passenger looking like they were tempted to commit the act of homicide as I join some in pressing the buzzer above the seats for an attendant. Though, none will come until we clear the storm and turbulence. It made me feel better all the same.

Looking out the window to my side, where some elderly couple sat chattering away to me I almost forgot them. They hadn't seemed to notice I wasn't listening to their life story, or even that I had told the boy off. So I just looked to the storm. In a way it was magnificent and beautiful as storms tend to be. If destructive too, dangerous things tend to have an odd beauty.

It was with a flash of lightning when I started as I thought I saw something in the clouds. It was gone in moments, blink and not there, just my imagination I guess. It was a deep purple, like the flash in the sky, long like a snake and absolutely huge. Maybe as large as the airliner I'm on now. This plane is one of the big-boys.

I shake my head but there it was again in a flash of lightning. Still with a body like purple plasma. In amongst the clouds. It was looking right at me as if the plane was not in between us before swish. The sun blazed through the windows blinding not only myself, and the rains and winds stopped pelting the craft.

Blinking the bright light away my head hurt. I had to rub my brow severely, my fingers running over my closed eyes. At least the shaking had stopped as the plane levelled out. The quiet that descended was a lifesaver, except for the people inside. I don't ask for too much.

"Are you OK dear?" the annoying old granny seemed to have noticed my discomfort now most of it had stopped, and even that baby had stopped screaming as its mother only seemed to notice soothing it with a bottle of milk-formula.

I just nodded my head, unsure as the image of that thing stirred in my memories. "Y-yes, thank you," I answered with a slight stutter, not sure myself.

Now getting a good look at the old pair. They're dressed like regular, stereotypical American tourists, even down to the matching 'I Love London' union jack tee shirts they're wearing. Their accents note a New York air about them, while mine has the 'Queens' English thing going on, only mildly.

I know. I was never brought up in any area where I might have been led into that accent. It was my mother's fault. Apparently, successful people can't have 'that' kind of accent. Though, my accent has shifted since the days when I would get teased at school, blanding out here and there. So it isn't too noticeable if you're more used to it.

"I just thought I saw… never mind," I replied with an impish smile after a few moments of thought. Looking at the two wrinkled faces, and grey hair, the woman's curled, and the man's short cut, both wearing large old people glasses. I had thought even old people were wearing the standard glasses these days.

They both chuckled before the old man spoke. "Storms and fear do that to everyone. Not just a young one like you," he said, amused, likely because I was blushing. That's just the curse of my pale skin, which is why the sunny beaches in California sound so good. I'll get a nice tan if I'm lucky. "See all sorts of weird things. You getting off in Florida too, we can show you the sights?"

"Oh, no, thank you. I have a connecting flight to L.A.X," I answered with a sheepish grin.

"Too bad, too bad!" the old lady said sadly. "We could have introduced you too our…!"

The plane shook, breaking me free from having to listen about whom she wanted to set me up with. The lights flickered a few times before we shook again. Some passengers screeching as the lights went out. Some of them going so far as to panic. The noise near drowning out staff messages over the speakers before they stopped working too, with the TV's flickering off.

That was a bad sign in my honest to God, Buddha, Zeus, Thor, probably more Thor, or whatever other deities anyone might believe, opinion that something really bad is about to happen.

All I had wanted was a peaceful two weeks before starting my new job. I was going to do many awesome things I never had before. Like see the Hollywood stars. Maybe meet a famous celebrity. Even look at those giant white Hollywood letters, and even a day at Disneyland. I had only ever seen the one in France before. My friends made fun of me for being so excited and childish.

The plane shuddered and I gulped as everyone seemed to pause their horrified panic driven screams. That made things worse as we could all hear the splutter and then boom, one of our left engines exploded in a great fireball. Shaking the plane. I hate that I sat this side as the plane tilted with my side rising. I wondered what idiot was flying this thing.

However. A moment later the plane rightened itself in all of a moment. The calm returned as if the other passengers were afraid breathing too loud would bring the aircraft down.

"Are we safe?" some idiot jinxed us.

I don't know who, but they did as the other engine my side exploded, shattering windows and screams blast in my ears as objects, bags, and flight attendants were sucked out, one woman was ripped in two, blood soaking everything around the window. Some even getting on me, staining red.

The oxygen masks had fallen from their compartment above our heads as the plane toppled down out of the sky. I didn't care to try putting on a mask as others scampered for them. I felt sick as I realised that we fell back into the storm, lightning beating at the plane, and I just knew with the way we were spinning through the air, we were as good as dead.

Those lost members of the cabin crew had it easy. They went first, fast, gone, just like that, dead. The wind and rain splashed at my face, pulling at my long crimson hair. The roar of the storm was drowning out the noise from the terrified and pointless humans within, myself included.

I felt lost in a void. A vacuum where I couldn't breathe. Having no idea where I am, where I could be. For all I know I'm already dead. Is there a light at the end of life, or hope, or just heartache? Nothing but long past dreams?

Is there a hell of fire and brimstone? Or do we cross over to be born anew? What would I be? Could I still be human? A monkey? Or maybe I'll come back as a giraffe or bumble bee?

I've heard your life flashes before your eyes as you die. If so my life flashed passed so fast I missed it. I don't want to die. Not now. Not because of this. If I were to die in the sky. I would be the pilot. That is how I had always imagined that death.

There was so much I wanted to do in this small and odd ball we call Earth. I haven't even gotten to see Hollywood yet! Or chase after a superstar if I ever spot one that I like enough. I don't want to die, why should I? I'm too young just yet, just like this. I'm not even twenty three for another week and a half. I was hoping for a nice peaceful birthday, alone! Not peaceful because I'll be dead!

I heard the screech before it passed my ear and reached out through shear instinct alone, catching his hand. It was the boy. His torn seatbelt flying away down the plane as we rattled. He's swinging as the plane continues its spin to our doom.

His blue eyes held so much fear. Tears streaming down his cheeks as I tried to keep hold. I was wedging myself in my seat and the one in front, trying to pull him up to me.

Glancing around for help didn't matter as the elderly couple next to me had their eyes closed, heads viciously flailing on their necks as they held hands. I held back any sign that they were dead and tried to reach out with my other hand for the boy to grab so I could pull him up.

Though, as my mind thinks that so desperately it asks why? 'So we can die together?' Maybe, but maybe we won't die, maybe we'll survive! If only I can.

"No!"

I screamed as he slipped from my fingers. I could only watch it as the world and universe slowed down just for me. He tore through the plane, blood splattering as he was ripped to pieces. His body was hitting everywhere, body parts smashing into everything, even people. I couldn't watch as my eyes stung painfully.

Looking out of the side as the plane spun, swallowing the lump in my throat. We were hurtling down. I could see the yellow ground and ocean both, waiting to claim us, and make us just another statistic.

Then nothing but silence, gone, banished. All the outside would hear is a dull thud as the planes carcass hits down.

It was like a ringing in my ears! All I felt was pain, pain, and more pain creaking through my bones and flesh. I couldn't understand whether I was dead, alive, dead, alive, or alive and dying.

My vision was blurred, and the ringing in my ears wouldn't stop. I wasn't sure whether I had ever lost consciousness, but if I were to guess. I probably had. I felt sick to my stomach and cold inside and out. I was so weak I couldn't tell whether I was the right side up or not. By the look of the other seats and hanging people. I would say no.

There was a feeling of warm fluid dripping down my face. I knew I was seriously hurt. I had been in a plane crash that I shouldn't have survived. I'm likely dying very slowly from internal injuries. If not then from bleeding out, or both.

I could feel my head throbbing with the hits it must have taken. I wasn't sure whether it would be better if I died outright or not. Maybe I have a chance. If I can get some help, maybe I might survive. That sounds easier said than done in my current condition. I don't know what that is.

I could only see grainy images as my eyes just would not focus. As if watching everything through a one hundred year old film projector. Showing an ancient, silent movie in a brown hue over the picture with oranges and yellows, and still not in focus.

I felt my hands dangling as I hung. I found to some relief that I could move my fingers! Maybe I could survive. I just had to hold out for the rescue team. However, the shocking thought came to me! Maybe one is not coming. I would have to somehow survive by myself with no medicine. Just my will to live keeping me going until I can't go any more.

Wasn't it raining and kind-of storming when we hit down? But now its quiet, and if those weird rainbow streams through the shattered hull are any indicator. The sun is out reflecting off the calm waters. Surely someone would notice a huge aeroplane smash into the beach? If not! Then maybe its wreckage the next day, after the storm.

So, it seems like I have been out cold. Now the sun is out. It took me an effort of blinking before I could see more around me. The bottom was filling with water, salt water if we barely missed landing in the sea. I'm certain I would have been fish food already if we hadn't hit the beach.

I jump on reflex as some weird little snapping fish flew up out of the water, trying to grab at my face, making a strange screeching caw. It was odd and scally, with a reflective bronze mirror-like quality as it caught a glint of sunlight, but otherwise looked pale blue. It had stubby flapping flippers that seemed to make it go higher than it should. Then a long tail that seemed like it had no meat to it. Skin stretched over bone with no flesh in between.

Its tail fin was in triple, curving up and down in the middle, long, and on the bottom and top. The two tails were horizontal with curved gaps for the middle tail to fit between. Its sharp white drill like teeth filled its huge, fat round head spinning with screw heads.

It housed several bone white horns running a backwards V pattern down its squishy head and no real body as far as I can tell. I suppose that is its head. It was only small. Its body couldn't be any bigger than a standard golf ball with no eyes in its face, but twin feelers on its nose, just as round and long with wiggly little bits on the end like tiny grey maggots. Its tail alone was twice as long and thin as its body.

I can say it scared the life out of me to such an extent that I found the strength to pull myself up out of its way where it fell back in the water with a plop after it couldn't reach me. I couldn't hold myself up for too long, and was thankful I got out the way, but it might come back.

However, reaching up my arms were shaking as I reached for the buckle to my belt, planning to burn through my pain as I fight to get out of the water as it was rising. The tide must be moving in on me. I don't want to be eaten by a freaking mino! How embarrassing would that be!

I just couldn't do it, relaxing back down, I was too tired and hungry and… oh for the love of a bacon sandwich the whole pool on the floor, or roof as it is was swimming with little horns poking up like a shark would a dorsal fin in the movies.

There were thousands of the creepy things. I have no clue what type of fish they are but… oh crap. I could only stare as they attacked the dead people in swarms like wasps or bees screeches of them near deathening, attacking and stripping the people of their flesh with their drilling teeth.

My eyes widened in horror as some jumped at me, but I moved, pulling myself up! I had to leave, and fast. Death by them wouldn't be so embarrassing now, but very painful. I felt some grabbing at my hair, swinging on it. Their teeth winding at it, as I pulled on my buckle. The metal had buckled under the pressure it had been under before. I fell, splash as I managed to get undone.

The things must have been fast in the water, as I didn't feel like I landed on any. The noise was gone. I spluttered to pull myself up from the water, spitting it out. It was an effort to pull myself to my hands and knees. The water up to my chest. I'm lucky the water broke my fall. I was breathing heavily and my vision was swimming worse than after that wedding last month, and all of that drink.

I couldn't help but vomit blood and other such crap that's in my system. Such as the saltwater, I swallowed. Then looking up! All of those things had gone and I dragged myself to stand up, dripping blood into the water as I held onto the wall, head throbbing, and vision swimming. They came, the little horns. I staggered back, shaking my head, trying to clear it and get away.

Moving further back, my hands helping me stagger. I couldn't find a way out until I fell through a huge split in the side of the crimpled rubble of the ex-plane with a splash. Then with that. They attacked. Their yells pounding in my ears, teeth like razors slicing and drilling into my skin. They clamped hold of me.

I pushed myself up. The beach in sight. Just a few feet and they'll have to let go or drown outside of the water. I never knew I had this much strength as I lumbered, pulled and crawled. All the while grabbing these things and flinging them away, tearing them off me.

It was stupid of me to feel shame! Shame that I was crying! Crying like never before. I hadn't ever cried like this, even when I was a child. I always bounced back. I had never felt such pain and agony as I lost blood, and struggled just to live.

I was screaming out and whimpering. My salty tears mixing with the seawater, pulling them from my clothes, from my arms, and crushing them in my hands. I carried on crawling. For such deadly predators. Their bodies are fragile, which is likely why they hunt in packs.

Breaching the water. Feeling the dry sand was like the relief of morphine coercing through my veins to relieve my pain and worry. I still had some on me, pulling them off, rolling weakly in the sand to remove them. They let go of their own accord within moments, dropping as they made little coughing noises as they gasped for breath, wriggling on the sand as they bounced back to the water, leaving me to the relief of my pain. The quiet of the birds and the calm of the sea and the gentle breeze.

The white-yellow sand was hot to the touch. Then the sea hadn't been much cooler as the sun beat down like it should be in a desert. Several metres away was a forest of greens and reds. Its lush with life that may want to eat me, or maybe I could eat if I had any strength left to get there with my body torn up.

Yellows and purples were scattered everywhere with colours I couldn't even name. Then giant plants I had never seen before, stretching open in all sorts of shapes from triangles to squares, and then some in between.

I collapsed after a brief look through my tears. I was crying in relief as my adrenalin rush fades back to nothing. I can feel my eyes growing heavy as I loose myself to the darkness, not knowing whether I shall ever wake again.

to be continued...