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- #81
- Aug 26, 2011
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The weather was getting choppy.
Stacey had the autopilot on and they were maintaining a pretty much straight course, despite a few rough jolts that had Carson clutching his stomach.
The ocean glinted solemnly twenty five thousand feet below them.
"Where actually are we?" Carson asked again.
Stacey shrugged. "I'm tracking to that point on the GPS."
"We can use GPSs up here?! Holy crap, why do I have to turn my phone off then?"
"It's a double standard."
The plane suddenly gave an especially violent jolt and started to dive.
"Holy ****!" Stacey shouted. The alarms started to go off in the small cabin.
Carson was clutching his stomach with increasing frequency now, unfurling only to take tentative looks out of the window.
"You're WEIRD," Stacey gasped, grasping for the controls. "You're like those kids who have to look up close at disgusting insects that make them hurl..."
She shrieked as the first engine blew out and the plane banked heavily to the right.
"Crap, crap, we're going over."
22,000 ft.
"What's happening?" Carson managed to groan out.
"I don't know. Something's happened down there. It can't be the weather, planes are built to resist windshear much worse than this."
18,000 ft.
The autopilot had disconnected itself by now and the plane had rolled over onto its back.
"Oh my God. If I can't turn this thing round, we're going to die. Some help here please."
"Some help?!" Carson said incredulously.
"Press that button there."
Stacey had her hands tightly on the controls.
14,000 ft.
The other engine cut out with a bang, and Carson turned round to see that it had left a large gouge on the wing from where the forces of the fall had torn it off. He closed his eyes. He thanked God that Stacey couldn't see the wing.
10,000 ft.
At least that had helped them roll halfway back to the right way up. Now they were flying more or less level, although falling rapidly.
"This isn't going to hold up!" she yelled in frustration.
6,000ft.
The ocean loomed up underneath them.
"Where are we? Are you going to send out a mayday call?!" Carson was starting to panic.
"We're in uncontrolled airspace." Stacey was starting to sweat too. "I can't operate the radio now anyway."
2,000ft.........
To be continued...
Stacey had the autopilot on and they were maintaining a pretty much straight course, despite a few rough jolts that had Carson clutching his stomach.
The ocean glinted solemnly twenty five thousand feet below them.
"Where actually are we?" Carson asked again.
Stacey shrugged. "I'm tracking to that point on the GPS."
"We can use GPSs up here?! Holy crap, why do I have to turn my phone off then?"
"It's a double standard."
The plane suddenly gave an especially violent jolt and started to dive.
"Holy ****!" Stacey shouted. The alarms started to go off in the small cabin.
Carson was clutching his stomach with increasing frequency now, unfurling only to take tentative looks out of the window.
"You're WEIRD," Stacey gasped, grasping for the controls. "You're like those kids who have to look up close at disgusting insects that make them hurl..."
She shrieked as the first engine blew out and the plane banked heavily to the right.
"Crap, crap, we're going over."
22,000 ft.
"What's happening?" Carson managed to groan out.
"I don't know. Something's happened down there. It can't be the weather, planes are built to resist windshear much worse than this."
18,000 ft.
The autopilot had disconnected itself by now and the plane had rolled over onto its back.
"Oh my God. If I can't turn this thing round, we're going to die. Some help here please."
"Some help?!" Carson said incredulously.
"Press that button there."
Stacey had her hands tightly on the controls.
14,000 ft.
The other engine cut out with a bang, and Carson turned round to see that it had left a large gouge on the wing from where the forces of the fall had torn it off. He closed his eyes. He thanked God that Stacey couldn't see the wing.
10,000 ft.
At least that had helped them roll halfway back to the right way up. Now they were flying more or less level, although falling rapidly.
"This isn't going to hold up!" she yelled in frustration.
6,000ft.
The ocean loomed up underneath them.
"Where are we? Are you going to send out a mayday call?!" Carson was starting to panic.
"We're in uncontrolled airspace." Stacey was starting to sweat too. "I can't operate the radio now anyway."
2,000ft.........
To be continued...