((Sorry this has taken so long! Harper is back though!))<br/><br/>Harper was on the verge of replying to the surprising response when metaphorical shit hit the fan. She had her hand raised and everything when suddenly a jolt like a bucking bronco threw her off feet and back onto her bed, the young woman involuntarily letting out a squeal of fear.<br/><br/>The impact knocked the wind out of her, the suddenness of the planes violent shaking stalling her brain, rendering her incapable of thought as she watched her cubicle rock and shake around her; as though, in her preoccupation with sending coded messages, someone had swapped her room for a an empty can and put her into a paint mixer.<br/><br/>“Fuck,” she finally managed to gasp. Everything was going to Hell real fast and all Harper could manage was a quiet ‘fuck’. Instinct made her grab onto the rails of her cot, bracing herself as best she could as she tried to cope with what was going on. The roar of the engine seemed to obliterate everything, making her wish she could cover her ears but Harper knew she couldn’t remove her hands from the death grip she had on the rails. She could hear herself hyperventilating but there was no way she was about to stop right now. Every time she shut her eyes she was suddenly trapped in the darkness of a sinking sub and a horrible feeling of doom clawed at a stomach that was invariably filled with lead or butterflies as the plane alternated between rising and falling.<br/><br/>Somewhere she heard the noise of a scream all muddled up with the roaring and crashing, somewhere she heard the garbled voice of the intercom. Somewhere, she prayed, someone was trying very hard to get them out of this situation because God knew, Harper was fucked right about now.<br/><br/>Then the heat, the cold and she was suddenly falling for real. Harper shut her eyes, let out a scream and blacked out…<br/><br/>…<br/><br/>…<br/><br/>Harper awoke to the soft whistling of the light breeze that passed through the cracks in her cubicle wall. She hadn’t seen the cracks yet though, all she could see was the legs of her cot as she lay there, splayed on the cold, metal floor. It was a good thing she had her hood on, or half her face would probably be frost-bitten.<br/><br/>She stirred, pushing herself up feebly on shaking limbs, her whole body feeling weak, sore and cold, her mind feeling dazed, slow and confused. Crouching on the floor of the now stationary cubicle, Harper cast her gaze through the cracks in the wall, watching flecks of snow falling gently outside. Through the haze of shock and a sudden fatigue, Harper still knew something wasn’t right.<br/><br/>Where was the storm? There was a storm, right, the one that had knocked them out of the sky? She rose to her feet and stepped over to where the door to the compartment hung slightly off its hinges. Harper rattled the handle but it seemed like it was still locked. Gritting her teeth, she leant against the frame and put her weight into it, causing it to pop open after a moments effort, sending her sprawling into the snow outside.<br/><br/>Coughing the cold ice out of her mouth she rose to her knees, seeing the other cubicles that surrounded the softly lit area, all close together, all undamaged. Something wasn’t quite right. Harper cupped her hands to her mouth and cried out, “HELLO?!”