Authors Note: This is sort of a preview of the Rangerfic which I have been telling you about. If you didn't read the post in the Cafe, I invite everyone to provide feedback; constructive criticisms would be appreciated, as I am pretty new at this.
Here goes something...
It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul....
In this instant, the windows to six souls were displaying a startling mixture of emotions and thoughts, most of them of an intense nature. Some were wide open, one pair was closed tight, while another pair drooped like a person on the verge of sleep. One pair of eyes looked frantically about; one just stared off into space. And the remaining two pairs of eyes were focused on something that their owners were both fearful and longing to behold: each other.
Up to about twenty seconds ago, the propeller-driven vehicle these six souls were traveling in was moving at a high rate of speed through a thunderstorm. Now normally these souls would be indoors, waiting out the tempest, but a series of unforeseen circumstances had necessitated their being in the air at this point in time. They knew they should not have been out there, but when two soul's bodies are injured, as was the case here, speed is of the essence, and caution usually gets thrown to the wind. This was a risk which five of them would be more than willing to take; after all, they had taken plenty of bold, sometimes foolhardy, risks before, always in the name of saving others. The sixth soul was initially reluctant to board the vehicle, but chose to do so anyway, partly because its body was also hurt (though not as badly as the other), but also because of its own reasons. Another unforeseen circumstance could be described as the price of one soul's genius and willingness to find ways to improve mechanical designs. An experimental power source coupled with a direct strike from a lightning bolt led to disaster--a disaster which occured completely and spectacularly. Couple this with a transparent plastic canopy which this one had placed on the vehicle to keep rain and the elements out, but which was now stuck on, keeping the souls in, and disaster had turned into a catastrophe-in-progress.
So here they were: six souls, trapped inside their vehicle, which was now plummeting to the ground at increasing speed. They could not escape due the thoughtfully added canopy, and the fear that this was their final hour, or minute, as the case may be, was overtaking all of them, along with a pastiche of other emotions.
Their plane would strike the ground in four seconds.
The drooping pair of eyes belonged to a bluish-green insect, a common housefly to be exact. This soul's body was the one that was most badly injured; he had suffered a blow to the head which was so great as to damage the exoskeleton. This had the same effect on the poor fly as a fractured skull would have on a mammal. He had lost consciousness about a half a minute before the fateful lightning strike, but the shock and noise of that event had jolted him back into consciousness, if only partially. He had only a vague idea of the danger around him, as his senses were dulled by his injury. In fact, he had only a vague idea of his own name at the moment. However, he knew that he was in great danger; fear intermixed with his pain and confusion. But his eyes would only reveal a soul caught in a twilght realm between life and death.
The eyes of the person which held the injured fly only stared ahead into space. These eyes belonged to a heavy-set, moustached kangaroo mouse wearing a trenchcoat and aviator's helmet. He had the look of someone who had been on many adventures, and had seen many things, but even he had been thunderstruck, as it were, by the events of the past minute. The fly he now held in his arms had been his friend for many years now, sharing most of the same innumerable experiences he had. The thought of losing this good friend now darkened his spirit much more than the thought of his own impending doom. Adding to his heavy burden was a promise he had made to an old friend--a promise to protect one of his other companions; a promise which, it seemed, he would be unable to keep. However, if one looked closely, a faint glimmer of hope could be seen in his eyes; after all, he and his friends had been in several crashes before, and had survived them all. Unfortunately, that hope seemed buried under the resignation that none of them, especially his insect friend, would not survive this time. Especially after seeing, through flashes of lightning all around them, the ground rapidly approaching.
Three seconds....
The third pair of eyes, like those belonging the fly, was shut tight as well. The owner of these eyes was the reluctant soul referred to earlier. The reason for her apprehension was twofold. First, she could fly perfectly well on her own; she was, after all, a pinkish-brown fruit bat. Second, she had seen the odd-looking power source adorning their plane; she knew about its creator's penchant for making things that didn't work quite the way one wanted them to. However, the reason for her accompanying the other souls was also twofold. First, she was hurt as well (she had suffered slight electrical burns). But, much more importantly, she wanted simply to be near one of the other souls. She was truly, madly, deeply in love with this soul, from the first time she had picked him up on her sonar. Unfortnately, much to her frustration, he had not, as far as she knew, returned her affections, so she had resigned herself to being just a friend; as such, any opportunity when she could be close to this soul was eagerly accepted. Even now, with death practically staring her in the face (or muzzle, as it were), she took comfort in the knowledge that her beloved was in her arms (or wings, as it were). Apparently, this did little to relieve her fears, as she was screaming almost at the top of her lungs (fortunately, her cries were not heard; everyone had been temporarily deafened by the thunderclap of twenty-one seconds ago).
The wings of the bat were tightly clenched around the soul whose eyes were darting about. They belonged to a common brown-furred tree chipmunk, whose appearance was distinguished by his bright red nose, buck teeth, and loud red-and-yellow hawaiian print shirt. He, too, had been apprehensive about the bat going along with them; while he enjoyed her company, he was sometimes disturbed by the forwardness of her affections toward him (the flirting, calling him things like "sweetie" and "cutie"). However, when he had seen her injuries, even though they were minor, he insisted she come along. Now, he was regretting that decision; in fact, he was now regretting going on that case, meeting his companions, getting out of bed in the morning, and being born all at the same time. But his eyes reflected surprise and fear more than regret; the flashes of lightning around them were revealing a place he did not recognize, a place seemingly taken straight from the horror movies he was so fond of watching; now that alien landscape was rapidly coming up toward them. As he screamed along with the bat (if anyone had heard their combined cries, they might have wondered at its weird harmony), his panicked eyes zipped from point to point, frequently resting on his best friend, sitting in the front seat of the plane. Like the first two souls, these two had been through a lot together; they had been friends since childhood, and while they frequently clashed and argued over the slightest things, their friendship had remained solid throughout the years. And now... it was over.
Two seconds....
The previous four souls were all seated in the rear seat of the plane. The remaining two souls sat in the front of the cockpit, but at this moment, their eyes were not watching the ground coming up to meet them. The pilot of the plane was also its creator, a common field mouse wearing a lavender jumpsuit and goggles. She had believed, in her nearly boundless naivete, that a new power source for her plane's engines would be just the thing to increase the energy efficiency, and thus, speed, of their vehicle. While this soul's limitless capacity for creating brilliant and useful vehicles and equipment for their endeavours was considered a great strength to her companions, an almost equally great capacity for overlooking important details accompanied this strength. There was chance a lightning strike to the plane would overload and short out the electrical system. But this soul's compassion was just as great as her intelligence; she knew that the injured ones, especially the fly, needed help now. Besides, she had anticipated that eventuality by flying low to the ground (about 10 feet) and fast. Even if lightning had struck, she figured that the emergency battery power supply would kick in which would allow a quick landing, quick repairs, and they would be on their way again (she had calculated the probability of that happening as 0.181, or about 18 percent). No, the detail she had overlooked was that the lightning would interact with the power source in an unusual way, causing something... incredible to happen. The instant after the flash of light and cannon-like report, all of her navigational insutruments went dead. The plane's engines began to behave erratically, cutting in and out at sporadic intervals. This soul spent the first ten seconds after the lightning strike desparately trying to regain control of the renegade vehicle; she fought against the forces of nature, gravity, and a plane in which the electrcial system seemed to be dying a horrific death. A death which finally occurred twelve seconds ago. Six of the those twelve seconds she spent desparately trying to manually restart the plane; she fiddled with wires, quickly checked connections, and checked the battery back-ups. Finally, as a last resort, she hit the canopy release switch, in the hope that they all could bail out (or, in the case of one soul, fly out). But the canopy stubbornly stayed in place. She calculated their chances of survival now stood at 0.282, about 28 percent; they were all buckled in, and the high winds they were flying into had slowed their descent somewhat, but still, odds were these would be their last moments. Now she resignedly slumped in her seat, her hands on the control wheel, and looked at the soul seated across from her. She looked into the eyes of her co-pilot, a person she had known for a few years now, and someone she had grown to trust and admire as a close and dear friend. Over the course of those few years, as she came to know this fellow soul better, her feelings towards him had... changed. He was in her thoughts a great deal lately, and she had begun to feel strangely around him; could it be...? These new feelings frightened and confused her; were they real, and, if so, what would that mean...? Fear, confusion, and longing all blended together in her blue eyes as they beheld this soul for what may be the last time.
The solid black eyes of the soul she gazed at belonged to another common chipmunk, similar in appearance to the screaming one sitting behind him. His companions regarded him as the "leader" of their team, the one who decided which cases to take, what plan to use, and how best to use their various talents and abilities. Because of this, there was virtually no end to the guilt he was feeling at this moment. Taking the case, making the plan, deciding how to use his team--all of these, in his mind, had led them to the predicament in which they now found themselves. It was all his fault. It was his decision to attempt to get his injured companions to the nearest medical facility. He felt apprehensive, though the pilot whom he beheld had assured him there was only an 18 percent chance that lightning would strike the plane. It was still his fault. Now, because of his decision, everyone was in jeopardy. Everyone, including himself. Including the big mouse and his longtime insect friend. Including the bat who had been unwittingly included in their miadventure. Including his best friend of oh so many years, whom he loved and respected like a brother. Including his pilot, someone he had grown to trust and admire as a close and dear friend. Someone whom he had also loved since the first moment he saw her. As he took over the plane's controls while his beloved pilot scrambled to revive it, he noticed he did not recognize the land they were flying over; the flashes of lightning revealed buildings, but no city lights, no cars, no people or animals. So now they were inexplicably lost, they were going down, and now... his pilot was staring at him! It began to feel warm inside his bomber jacket, under his fedora. With guilt, terror, resignation, and longing, his eyes met hers; if there ever was a time to declare one's love for another, that time was now.
One second....
As the weirdly harmonized screaming reached its crescendo, and the terror felt by the six trapped souls reached its crescendo, the soul in the co-pilot's seat opened his mouth to say something. Something he had been holding in for far too long. Something which the goggled soul did and did not want to hear at the same time. Behind them, the small soul's eyes shut, perhaps forever, while the large soul added his own bar to the harmony, rendering the most bizarre scream ever heard, if any of them heard it.
The shattering sound of impact quickly put a stop to all of this....