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K-chan10307
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#1
Old 06-24-2014, 04:11 PM

She counted five survivors, with herself included. Two females were by the wreckage: a middle-aged woman with her arms around her dead husband, his bottom half crushed by the metal of the plane, and another woman, younger, comforting her. Their anguish rolled off of them and fell over her, suffocating her. It took all she had to remain standing and breathing. Death was so present, invading her senses and her mind. She fought every instinct to run away and seek refuge in the wilderness, to get away from all this emotion that was crushing her.

There were two males by what was left of the cockpit. They had already dragged the bodies of the pilots out, laying them next to her, along with any supplies and survivor kits they could find. As the only woman who wasn’t an emotional mess (Oh how wrong they were), they instructed her to keep guard of the supplies, and watch to see if any people were around. Her mind was too distracted to expand and scan for other people. Instead, she took inventory, meticulously focusing on counting and organizing, trying to ignore the lifeless bodies to her side.

“The radio is broken. So is the radar. Here’s some of the luggage we were able to scrape out of the plane,” one of the men said, coming over, tossing some bags onto the ground. He was scared. His fear penetrated her mind, causing her to wince. “Oh, are you hurt?” he asked suddenly concerned. Melanie forced a smile onto her face. “Fine,” she replied softly, turning back to the items. He wanted to converse more, but his distress was so strong that she heard his every thought. It bombarded her, so she shut herself away even more to get away from it. Finally, he gave up, and went to assist the other male.

Her own carry-on had been safe; she kept it with her when she freaked out, her body instinctively generating a force field around herself. She picked through the luggage, recognizing her own bag. With a sigh, she opened it. The bags were soaked, but hers was supposedly waterproof. Most of her clothes were okay, so she grabbed what she could and fit it into her carry-on. Others bags and their contents weren’t so lucky. Nonetheless, she found travel supplies that remained relatively safe, and clothing that if they weren’t used for their original purpose, could be useful for camping.

The other man came over, looking at here intensely. He was a strange fellow. Despite the fact that she manipulated the energy around herself, making herself less noticeable and making others less inclined to look over at her, he was able to bypass that and sat down right next to her. She felt his thoughts bubbling underneath his mental barriers, but they remained firmly in place. And he was devoid of emotions. His body was like her brother’s, big and heavily toned. His tattoos gave away his occupation. He had a certain stillness about him that bothered her. Melanie knew that he was carefully trained to make sure he gave nothing away to her, but beneath all that, even she could feel the malice in him.

“Do you know how to shoot?” he asked in a low and gravelly voice.

Melanie looked up from her collection, opening her own barriers to try to feel something from him. He was angry. He felt betrayed, but not really confused. He knew something. If she pushed hard enough, she knew she could break through. His eyes were empty though, as if he had seen too much. He had already lost parts of himself that he could never get back. There was a darkness in him that Melanie wasn’t yet ready to face.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He shoved two guns into her hands. “I expect you to use it if you’re ever in danger. We have to walk around and figure out where we landed. I will be keeping you safe.”

When the plane crashed, he had cursed and then protectively held an arm over her. She wondered at this. Why was he so intent on keeping her alive and safe?

“You should go back to helping the others.” She dismissed him, trying to figure this guy out, but also taking the guns nonetheless. She looked over at the others, watching them try to bury the husband in the sand. Once again their grief pushed into her. She reinforced her mental barriers, a pain forming in her head as she did so.