The hours blurred together as the plane sliced through the darkened sky. Elliot had long since stopped counting the minutes, his mind too weary to focus on anything other than the weight pressing on his chest. The endless stretch of clouds outside seemed to mock him, offering no answers, no comfort. The world felt as empty as the sky, a vast, unforgiving expanse that seemed to stretch on forever.
Max was still curled up at his feet, his presence a small source of warmth in the cold cabin. The dog's steady breathing was a reminder that, despite everything, there was still something alive, something that cared.
Ben was in the cockpit, his face illuminated by the dim light from the dashboard. Elliot could see his silhouette through the small window, the occasional shift of his hands on the controls breaking the stillness. The man was a quiet figure, always moving with purpose, but Elliot knew that the same burden of loss weighed on him too. Ben had lost people. Maybe even more than Elliot could imagine.
The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft hum of the engines and the occasional rustle of Max's fur. Elliot felt like a ghost in his own body, detached from the world around him. He wasn't sure what he was searching for anymore—answers, safety, or maybe just a reason to keep going.
But then, as the hours passed and the darkness began to lighten just a fraction, Ben finally spoke, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.
"We're almost there," Ben said, his voice low, yet filled with a strange sense of urgency. "We'll land in about an hour. Just hang in there."
Elliot didn't respond. He couldn't bring himself to. He wanted to believe Ben, wanted to hold onto the hope that they were nearing something better. But doubt lingered in his mind like a persistent shadow. The world had changed, and nothing felt certain anymore. Could there really be a safe zone in Mexico? Or was it just another empty promise?
Max shifted at his feet, his soft whine breaking through Elliot's thoughts. The dog lifted his head, eyes wide, his ears perked. Elliot reached down, gently scratching behind Max's ears. It was a small act, but it brought him some comfort.
"Hey, boy," Elliot whispered, his voice rough from disuse. "You're all I've got now, huh?"
Max responded with a low growl, not out of aggression, but in the way a dog might do when they sense something unsettled. Elliot's heart skipped a beat, his hand frozen in midair.
"What is it, boy?" Elliot murmured, looking out the small window. The plane was flying steadily, but there was something in the air that felt off, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
He sat up straighter, his eyes scanning the horizon. There was no storm in sight, no sign of danger in the sky. But the unease in his chest only grew. Something was wrong. The air was too still. The kind of stillness that came before something bad happened.
Ben's voice broke through the quiet again, this time more urgent. "Elliot, stay calm. We've got a situation."
Elliot's heart raced. "What do you mean, a situation?"
"There's another plane," Ben said, his voice tight. "I didn't see it coming. It's not on the radar, and I didn't hear any comms. But it's close."
Elliot's breath caught in his throat. Another plane? His mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. There were no more survivors, not that he knew of. And if there were... what were they doing out here?
Ben was still speaking, his voice sharp and focused. "We're going to have to take evasive action. Stay low, stay quiet. We don't know who or what they are."
Elliot's pulse quickened. "What do we do?"
"Just hold on," Ben replied, his tone becoming even more serious. "This is where it gets dangerous."
The plane lurched suddenly, and Elliot's stomach dropped. He gripped the seat as the plane veered to the left, the engines roaring as Ben fought to maintain control. Elliot's eyes snapped to the window again, his mind racing. There was nothing out there. No sign of another plane. But the tension in the cabin was palpable. He could feel it in the air, the electricity of fear that seemed to fill the space between them.
Max growled low, his ears pinned back, and Elliot instinctively pulled the dog closer to him, his hand trembling. What was going on? Who else was out here?
Ben's voice came through the intercom again, sharp and filled with command. "Elliot, get in the back. Now."
Elliot didn't hesitate. He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbing Max's leash as he made his way to the back of the plane. His heart was hammering in his chest, his mind still struggling to make sense of the chaos unfolding. The plane shook again, this time more violently, as if something was pushing against it.
Ben's voice came again, louder now, "Hold on, kid! We're not alone anymore!"
Elliot pressed his back against the cold metal wall, Max nestled in his arms. The tension in the air was suffocating, and Elliot could feel his hands shaking. His mind kept racing, trying to make sense of the situation, trying to figure out what to do next.
Was it another group of survivors? Were they hostile? Or was it something worse?
And as the plane continued to shake, the only thing Elliot could hold onto was the fragile thread of hope that had kept him alive this far. That thread was beginning to fray. But as long as he was still breathing, he couldn't give up. Not yet.