Amelia pitched forward and covered her face before she struck the instrument panel. Her hands bled but she shook it off, stood on the seat, forced open the top escape hatch. "Fred, Fred! Are you all right?"

The small cabin door opened. Fred, his head bleeding, slipped through.

"Let me help you." She pulled him onto the co-pilot’s seat. "Did you get the raft?"

He shook his head.

"We need it. I know there’s an island around here someplace. Stay put, I’ll be right back." She edged into the cabin. Water half filled the fuselage but the empty fuel tanks buoyed the Electra on the dark swells. The small yellow uninflated raft floated toward her. She stuffed it into the cockpit.

They climbed out the hatch, inflated the rubber boat with a carbon dioxide canister. Amelia helped Fred onto the wing. Thick clouds hovered overhead. Choppy waves rocked the aircraft. They stepped into the raft. She grabbed an oar. He rested against the bow. Amelia pushed off, rowed into the waves.

On the horizon, a ship flying the Rising Sun closed fast. Amelia slowed her stroke. No need to hurry, destiny was now.

Author Bio - Harvey
Author Bio - Christie

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