Snippet #2117844

Colten would come to, the sound of birds in the trees would be pleasent, the heat unbearable, sweat dripped from his body and clung to his hair. He quickly realized that he was hanging upside down, his seatbelt had worked, atleast. He looked up to see a large bruise on the uncovered spot of his body. The black bruise apparent against his tanned skin. He had a few bruises and scratches, but he was thankful to be alive. Speaking of which, the smell of death hung in the air, he wasn't sure if it was the smell or the blood rushing to his head. But he felt as if he were about to puke. He reached up grabbing onto a loose bar and releasing the seat belt, he dropped suddenly, barely able to catch himself before plunging down. It was hard to tell how high up the plane was in the trees, but it couldn't be more than seven or eight feet. At the glance he saw how the back end of the plane was gently mangled to be slightly tipped, and tilted.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself before dropping. On impact he bent his knees slightly, it still hurt, but not nearly as much. There was a soft thud as he hit the ground and the ground was soft and damp, with a great deal of undergrowth covering the jungle floor. He looked about in horror at the sight of several dead bodies. He searched for hours, searchign nothing but the crash site for survivors.

He climbed up into the plane, it had dropped low at the front end and he managed to jump up and wriggle inside through a tear in the plane's metal body. Inside it was musty, a dead person sat peacefully in his seat. Colten reached up opening the luggage cubberds, he'd pull his own bag down and pull his ripped t-shirt off over his damp muscles and discard it, before pulling the bag onto his shoulders. It was a simple dark green bag of basic things, clothes and pleasentries, and his cellphone.

He didn't feel right taking anyone elses things, perhaps they would come back to this beacon of hope. He pulled himself to the pilots cab and saw to his dismay, both the pilots dead, one lay in the floor of the cab while the other, still in his seat. He searched about and found what he was looking for a small bag in a closet, he pulled the bag and a medical kit from the closet and proceeded to leave the plane, carefully. It was a death trap. Once he had made it to the ground he crouched setting the bag on the ground and trifling through it. A survival knife, he pulled his belt off, replacing it with the belt of various pouches containing, matches, flint, a compass, amd thread and a needle. He sheathed the knife and proceeded his trifling, finding a flashlight, emergency flares, a few bottles of water, a canteen, and to his great relief a gun bag, he pulled it out and slowly unzipped it.

His eyes widened in great joy, he grinned at the sight of a M6 survival rifle. It lay in the gun case in two parts, it's light stainless steal parts lay one below the other, the stock and barrel apart, and a small box of .22 ammunition. Colten counted 12 in total. He reassembled the bag and slung everything onto his back, the pilot's bag, his carry-on, and the medical kit. And then began walking, slowly, to the North.