I lay still for a long time, to afraid to move. Everything hurt and I felt like someone had ran over me twenty times over. Blood blurred my vision and I could tell that my ankle had been dislocated and my arm had almost been cut off. I scrambled to my feet and looked around. "Where was Griz?" I said out loud for no real reason. I didn't bother looking for other survivors, we would all die from wounds, dehydration or hunger anyway. I found Griz's crate and forced it open. He bounded out with his tail between his legs. Fear was obvious as he pressed close to me. I found my bags, or rather what was left of my things, and started looking at them. "Stupid 'no knives or guns allowed on plane' rule" I said to Griz. I grabbed my glasses and but them on, after whipping the blood from my face of course. I could make out a few people standing up and looking around at the mess before them. 'Their all dead-men' I thought.