March 11, 2013

No. 328A - CYOA2 Part 3 - Ridgeway is an Ally

Part 1: http://aroundgray.blogspot.ca/2013/03/no-322.html
Part 2: http://aroundgray.blogspot.ca/2013/03/no-327-cyoa2-part-2.html




Martin lay in his seat, stunned by the impact. A red haze clouded his vision. Far in the distance, he could hear the pilot speaking, telling him how to escape the fuselage.

Something tugged at his bag. Something in the back of his mind told him to pay attention. His eyes snapped fully open and he saw Ridgeway collecting the precious part. Martin waved his arm at her, trying to drive her away.

“Stop,” he mumbled.

“Relax,” she told him. “You’re tangled in your seatbelt. Give me a second to get you out.”

Martin slumped back, and looked toward the cockpit. The pilot had made his escape from the sinking plane.

“There,” said Ridgeway. “Come with me.”

She grabbed Martin under his arms and hauled him toward the hatch. He made sure he kept a tight grip on the precious part. Water began to flow into the cabin through the open door, and Ridgeway struggled under her heavy burden.

“If you could help at all, Rob, that would be fantastic,” she grunted.

Martin found his legs and shuffled along with her. Suddenly they were both out of the wreck and under a clear, bright blue sky, floating in the cold water of the conspicuously empty South Pacific. Martin felt another hand grab his shirt just behind the neck and he was quickly hauled up into a raft.

The pilot helped Ridgeway aboard, next. And the three sat, waterlogged, in the flimsy boat.

“Everybody alright?” asked the pilot.

Ridgeway and Martin nodded.

“Won’t be long now,” said the airman. “I just need to send the signal.”

With a flourish, he produced a grenade. He pulled the pin and dropped the bomb into the ocean. Seconds later there was a muffled explosion and a geyser of frothy white spray as the sea erupted.

Soon after that, there was another sound. Martin strained to hear it, but couldn’t identify the source. It was a loud hum, or rumble that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The water under the life raft heaved up, and the gentle motion of the waves was replaced by a solid surface.

Propping himself up, Martin peered out over the side of boat. He’d been told about the craft during his briefing, but nothing had prepared him for the sight before his eyes.

Surrounded him on all sides was an enormous metal disc that had risen out of the deep.  A hatch opened up and a woman’s head popped out. “Hello,” she shouted. “Welcome to Nautilus Base. Can I have the password, please?”

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