The cold wind whipped the inside of the cabin. Overhead bins hung open; luggage was strewn about. People were weeping and sobbing as they took inventory of the situation.<br/><br/>It was a shit storm.<br/><br/><i>“I don’t know…” she confessed. “Am I?” One hand finally left her armrest and pressed against her chest, as if checking for a heartbeat in order to confirm one way or another. “And for how much longer…?” She muttered to herself.</i><br/><br/>Mark gritted his teeth. This was like a scene from one of his movies, only there was no director to yell ‘Cut!’, and no buffet table in an adjacent room to get coffee and pastries from. This was real. He felt his hands tremble at the realization that there would be no immediate relief from their situation.<br/><br/>He barely heard his row partner as she realized that she had escaped death. They had upgraded her. Had she told him that? Something about her father?<br/><br/>He unbuckled his belt with trembling fingers. “I think I’m okay,” he said. “We need to get out; this plane may not be stable. We need to assess, get warm clothing, look for a radio. Shelter.” He was going through the script now, things he had read in preparation material for his current role. It felt like he was living someone else’s life. This couldn’t be happening.<br/><br/>Others in the plane had the same idea. Some sobbed in place, but most began to untangle themselves from the chaos. One man was shouting for his family, looking desperately behind him where now a gaping, cold hole remained. Further back on the mountainside they could see fragments of burning pieces that trailed their unfortunate landing.<br/><br/>Mark moved numbly down the aisle towards the cockpit. He thought that the one person who could ‘save’ them was the pilot, but as he got to the front he realized that the wall was scrunched like an accordion, and when he pushed on the door to open it, the tiny crack he managed to open let in more snow and cold air. “HELLO!” he shouted. “Are you alive in there?” He tried to push the cockpit door open, then realized that he was only inches away from the controllers. The cockpit had taken most of the force of their landings; more than likely the pilot, co-pilot, and navigators had all died instantly.<br/><br/>The realization hit him, and he turned and dry-heaved in the aisle. If the pilot was dead, their radios were probably destroyed…<i>‘FUCK.’</i><br/><br/>He looked up at the rest of the plane and saw in the darkness shambling movement, expressions of shock, and fear.