No, he wasn’t. It was just dark. And quiet. Crumpled metal under his fingers. Grit that might once have been his window. His body felt like one massive bruise. The impact had been hard enough to burst blood vessels. He reached up to his chest, felt around for the buckle on the safety harness, clicked it. The straps fell away to the sides. He leaned forwards and groaned. The world still sounded dark and muffied. He pulled out the earplugs and fumbled around for the earpiece. ‘Kyntak? Kyntak, are you there?’ Nothing but static. Six tried to remember if he’d seen any pieces of the cockpit among the falling debris. Maybe the missile had only destroyed the wing of the plane. Maybe Kyntak had been able to make an emergency landing somewhere. Maybe he was okay. Maybe not. There had been a lot of burning pieces. Six pushed his hand against the button that was supposed to crack open the pod. Nothing happened. He pressed it again. Still nothing. Well, it had been a pretty rough landing. Six raised his legs and rested the soles of his feet against the wall and pushed as hard as he could.
What do You think about Third Transmission (2009)?
