Amelia

Her hands shook, one hand on the gear shift, the other on the wheel. Shaking so much they started to go numb. The sky was dark, fat bloated clouds covered everything. Her hands were shaking, it was too cold, or was this shock? The cold and the endless darkness of the ocean were overwhelming, she was a speck flying above an abyss. They were alone, and she was scared. The dash showed the fuel line, it had been slowly decreasing, and they were running out of time. The little mark notched lower, her heartbeat thrummed louder in her ears, masking the sound of the plane’s engine.

Noonan passed her a note, and she struggled to bring it to her face. We need to find land. The note read. She nodded unable to speak over the noise. There was no need for him to tell her that, she knew they needed to land. The flight should have been over hours ago. They were supposed to land together on the island. An accomplished flight to break records, to pay off the years she spent learning to fly and the donation that she used to fund the very plane she flew. She convinced Noonan to join her, to leave his wife at home and take this epic journey, to break a record and find fame. Instead, she’s sitting in a plane over the endless ocean and clouds searching for a two-mile spot of green.

They tried sending communications and only got back garbled words or static. They were lost, above the ocean with little fuel and little hope left.

She wondered how she got here, what was the point in her life where she thought, this is how I will live my life. She didn’t need to wonder. She knew the moment she wanted to fly. It was the day her uncle helped her build a ramp and she attached it to the roof of their tool shed. She went up there in her old rickety sled and she launched herself off the ramp. The feeling of the wind on her face, the taste of the air on her lips. It was freedom, pure and simple. She screamed at her sister that it was just like flying.

She wanted to fly ever since. She saw her first plane at age 10. A rickety old thing rusted and beat up. It was the same as that sled. She didn’t want to look at a plane. She wanted to fly it herself. She wanted to taste that freedom again on her lips. She wanted to feel the win in her hair. She wanted to go back and slap her younger self. Although even now, struggling with the prospect of her upcoming death she wonders If she would have changed anything. Maybe she would have gotten a better transmitter, that would probably be the only thing. All in all, she lived a good life, she married a good man, accomplished something that most woman could only dream of. She scraped and saved every coin for her lessons. She invested her hard-earned money into her first plane. They are what got her to fly, to taste that freedom.

Noonan climbed over the crates stacked in the back of the plane; he held a map clutched in his hands. He spent the last few hours, more of a lifetime pouring over those maps, trying to chart their path. He slapped at her arm, his hands knocking into her earmuffs and knocking them askew. He pointed and she followed his finger until she saw it. Green. Glorious, beautiful green. “Its Land!” he screams and she smiles for the first time all night. “We aren’t going to die.” She whispers, tears leaking from her eyes as she tilts the plane toward that glorious strip of green. “I think Greens my new favorite color.” She yells back to him. He laughs, a deep belly life that she can hear over the engine. It beats anything other than the endless black of the ocean. She motions to Noonan to his seat and he climbs into his chair, shoving his maps into a safe bag.

She circles the island a few times and in the dark she struggles to find a place to land. They are still too far away, and it is still too dark to see. They don’t have the luxury to wait until the sun rises again. Their tank is counting down like a live grenade and sooner or later they will run out of gas. She circles a few more times and realizes there is a problem. The island is dark. No lights lit up the night sky, no campfires for people on the beach and no cars drive along the ground. There is nothing, the place appears barren and remote. No human life seems to exist below. She doesn’t have a choice. She needs to land and hope she’s wrong. She finds a mostly cleared section of sand and aims for the spots with less rocks. Even with careful aim the landing is rough, the plane bounces along the sand and she jerks forward slamming her hand against the wheel when they finally come to a stop.

She flips off all the switches, and they wait for the sounds of the engine to die down. “Where is everyone?” Noonan asks. She swallows and looks out the window. There is no one on the beach. They expected a group to meet them for a celebration. “I don’t know.” She answers back. “Maybe it’s too late and everyone went to bed.” She tells him, looking out the window. Tall trees covered in green are set against the dark sky. The stars blaze brightly above them, the only light they have tonight with the plane powered down.

“Went to bed where?” he mumbles. She nods. There is nothing out there but trees. They found land, but not people. “I don’t think we made it.” She tells him. He sighs. “No, Ameila. I don’t think we did.”