Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Spider's Dream #5: Hijack.

The four giant rotors began to whir.
She thought of the distance necessary to perform any action. Panic is avoided by refusing to think through the implications of each action.
Nine Hundred Days started to proclaim to the captive cabin. His gas mask was pulled up and a drizzle of blood dripped down his forehead.
Hear the engines of your mad science now employed by the revolution. The epitaph for your age. An age of exhaustion, prostitution, and a desperate search for god. The enemies in your own house shall illuminate your way. The word enemy is but an illusion created by liars in high places. We have come with outstretched hands. An invitation to join our quest.

She thought of him jolting awake at night. Pale and mumbling he would sit up. He seemed to be trying to remember a poem he recited as a kid. A presentation for bored adults to critique, another dash on the page for them and endless hours of sweat and fear for him.

Dog One move his gun back and forth as the sweat built up under his gloves. The pilots where operating the controls. The engines were fully engaged now. A tearing sound came from the side of the Helitransport. A rattling scrapping and primeval renting.
What is that?
We are still connected to the loading tunnel. I told you that.
Will we break free?
Maybe but the engines will be strained.
Strained but take it right?
Steady, he holds himself. Tremors, they coursed through the whole transport. Vibrations rattling the cabin, he sneaks a sip from his canteen. A drink of alcohol to calm him. His clothing caked in lint, a rough device in his hand. Dropping the canteen he holds on as the cabin pitches up and down. The sound is gone, silence except the throbbing of the engine.

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