Her gut ascended to her throat and her heart pounded loudly as the ground all too rapidly came into focus. Even with dampeners, what she could salvage of the engines, and a prayer to whoever may be watching over her, she was descending too fast.
Her eyes widened as she instinctively braced for impact despite knowing it would do no good; Sam was a physicist after all and knew she wouldn’t survive this.
With an Earth-shattering bang and a cringe-worthy sound of twisting metal, her 302 slammed into the ground.
Pain. Searing, blinding pain. Everywhere.
Breathing was only an automatic function at that point. All Sam knew was pain. A thousand spiked probes impacted her brain; her body convulsed with electricity and fire, the air in her lungs a toxic acid. This was what she felt. The agonizing torture of Hell for all she failed to do, for all she failed to save, for all the lives she had taken. The fires of Natu were sweet honey compared to her current fate. Heaven had no spot for her after all. The bitterness of it tasted like copper on her tongue.
Copper... Her mind reached out to it, focused on it. Copper. The word, the taste a tantalizing puzzle that teased from the recesses of her mind. Copper. Bitter, like touching your tongue to a battery. Electricity. Energy. ‘Where was it?’ Where was the thought she needed? Life. Blood.
Not copper. Blood. Life… The thought hung in the haze of her mind.
She was alive.
She grasped at the thought like a buoy in a storm. She was alive! She was breathing. Breathing. ‘Breathing was good?’ ‘Yes. Breathing was good.’
‘Open your eyes Sam.’ ‘Sam…’ Confusion. ‘Sam?’ ‘ My name?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Open your eyes.’
Blurred shapes and colors invaded her mind, along with a reaquantance to the pain in her head. She groaned, the action alerting her to yet more pain, more injury.
Her eyes started to focus. Where was she? And why did she hurt so much?
Taking in the sights around her; twisted metal, broken controls and displays, and occasional sparks at the edge of her vision.
Her sense of smell kicked in; smoke, burning electronics.
One thought entered her mind. ‘Get out.’ The thought consumed her. ‘Get out!’
Despite the protests of her entire body, she began to move. Somewhere in her mind she recognized broken bones; ribs, clavicle, an arm and a leg; a punctured lung and her teeth rattled like they had been shaken loose. All of that was on a subconscious level, the only conscious thought she had was ‘get out.’