Hatchetfield Stories

Turbulence

I'm on vacation can you tell? (Yes I actually wrote this on an airplane)

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Panic attack
-Mentions of past injuries

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After PEIP had dropped them off at the airport, and after convincing the TSA that yes, Emma did need to take her strong painkillers with her, Paul and Emma sat at the gate, waiting to be let onto the plane to Colorado.

Emma fidgeted with her bow, her leg throbbing from walking on it for so long.

"You okay?" Paul asked.

"Yeah, I just... I'm not enjoying the idea of being thousands of feet in the air again, after... you know..." She didn't need to finish her sentence, just patting her bandaged leg.

Paul took her hand in his. "Emma..."

They were sitting on the floor in a corner, away from the crowd.

Neither of them was a big fan of being surrounded by so many people. Not after what happened.

"It'll be okay," he assured her. "It's only a flight of a few hours. Just remember to wear your seatbelt."

Emma huffed. "You're right."

But still, she was almost trembling when the doors opened and the crowd started checking in.

Paul handed the employee their passports, the woman looked at them. "Alright, Benjamin and Kelly, seats fourteen A and B." She smiled at them, handing back their passports and boarding passes.

Confronted with the harsh reality of their names being changed without their permission, they walked toward the plane.

When they eventually sat down in their seats, Emma made sure to put on her seatbelt and pull it tight despite her shaking hands.

After buckling himself in, Paul grabbed her hand. "Em, I know you're scared. But we're safe. I promise. We're getting out of Hatchetfield, that's what you wanted, right?"

Emma nodded as the flight crew demonstrated the emergency plan, the instructions barely audible over the shitty speakers above their heads. Emma tensed as the plane sped up, the speed pushing her back into her seat. She clung to Paul's hand with both of hers as the plane took off, and he gladly let her hold it, not sure what else he could do to help her as she was on the edge of hyperventilating.

She hadn't been on a plane since she came back from Guatemala for Jane's funeral. Of course, she'd always planned to go back there, but for some reason, she just... didn't. She found herself stuck in the town she'd grown up in for years, and then the zombie apocalypse came along, and now she was shipped off to Colorado by some sketchy branch of the military.

She refused to look out the window, refused to see how high up in the air they were, refused to know how far they would fall if the plane crashed.

Of course, she knew that the helicopter crashed because they killed the pilot, and that that wouldn't happen this time. Still, she trembled as the people around her were either sleeping, reading, or playing some dumb game on their phones.

God, the engines were loud. They thumped in her head, overwhelming her even more.

Emma screamed when the plane shook.

"It's just turbulence, Em," Paul tried to tell her, but she was too wrapped up in the memory of falling. Her leg ached, almost feeling like it was still impaled.

Multiple passengers turned to look at her, but she didn't notice, gripping the armrest so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Paul rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, and though she appreciated the gesture, it did little to calm her.

They stayed like that for the remainder of the flight, with Paul occasionally having to remind her to just keep breathing.

While Emma flinched at the shock of the plane making contact with the ground, she relaxed a little when she looked out of the window and saw the asphalt under them.

They waited until the horde of passengers had left the plane before they finally got up, Emma's leg protesting as she stood on it.

They didn't have to wait for their luggage, seeing they didn't have any, just the small backpack Paul was carrying for her.

When they finally arrived at their new house, Paul helped Emma out of the taxi and thanked the driver, before helping her limp inside.

"You want to explore the house, or..."

"Nah, I'd kill for a nap right now. Plus, this guy could use some rest." She patted her leg, regretting it immediately as pain shot up from her thigh.

"Okay."

The house wasn't completely decorated, but furnished enough to be functional. Paul helped her onto the couch. "Do you want me to stay?"

"Paul, we literally live together now, of course you can stay."

"Oh... okay."

He smiled, sitting down next to her, anxiously putting an arm around her, but relaxing a little when she curled up against him, humming contently as she closed her eyes.

They were okay.