Write to Rank 2022 [Genre - ACTION]

2. I Picked The Wrong Week...

Prompt: Set the scene and create a dynamic dialogue between the two main characters. Previously, we have asked for a protagonist versus an antagonist, but this year we are changing things up. We want to see an unlikely alliance between two characters coming together to face a challenge. The rest is up to your imagination.

Required Word Count: 480 (min) and 500 (max)

A sudden violent gust smashed into the underside the plane, briefly whipping Mark up in the air.

He collapsed back to the cockpit floor in a tangled heap.

"Yeah, and what am I feeling now?" the kid said, safely strapped in the pilot's seat.

Mark's white retractable cane clattered down next to him. The pregnant woman lying near him groaned loudly, and Mark reached out, his hand blindly and shakily seeking hers until their fingers touched.

The woman muttered something in a language Mark didn't understand. He squeezed her hand, hearing the rain hammering on the cockpit windows.

The plane smoothed out.

"What's it say?" Mark called out, feeling around for his cane.

"Minus 700," the kid's voice came back.

Stabilized approach—it worked! Mark tried to think back; as long as they could keep their glide path to the runway, the plane would be perfectly set up to land nice and smooth, right?

Right?

The kid said something.

Mark shook his head, trying to focus. "Huh?"

"How do you know about this stuff?"

"What stuff? Flying?"

"Yeah."

"Only know a little," Mark replied, gently squeezing the pregnant woman's slick and sweaty hand, hoping to reassure her. "Worked as a stuntman in the early 90's on a cheap flick with a big jet—old clunker FedEx loaned the production company. Pilot let me dink around whenever we got stuck in the air waiting for the next set up... long time ago."

When I could still see.

"And now?" the kid said.

"I teach high school."

"Crazy." The kid swallowed. "Listen, I—"

An alarm started blaring.

The plane began to rise—Mark felt it. There was a loud vibrating screech, rising wildly in pitch before suddenly cutting off. The woman's hand tightened around his, her unknown words coming fast and scared. The cockpit began to shake and rattle.

"Autopilot!" Mark yelled over the din. "Press the VNAV button again!"

The nose of the plane continued to rise, pulling higher and higher. Mark felt himself beginning to slide backwards, losing his balance—

The plane suddenly dipped back down, smoothing out.

Mark sighed heavily. "Good job, kid."

"I pushed a button."

"What's our altitude?"

"5000."

Getting closer now.

A long, eerie silence settled in over the cockpit as they waited.

"You seem pretty good with this stuff," Mark said finally.

"Played it on PC before I got bored."

"See? That's something."

"Oh come on," the kid said angrily. "It's nothing—junk. I don't care about any of it."

"Then what do you care about?"

"I told you." The kid's voice began to rise as it sped up, his words coming fast and angry. "I don't want a family, I don't want a job, I don't want any of it! What about then, huh? How is somebody supposed to find happiness when nothing makes them happy?"

Mark was silent.

Finally, he said, "Happiness isn't what makes life worth living."

The kid's voice was soft and broken. "Then what is?"

"Purpose."

A mechanical voice suddenly blared throughout the cockpit. "Approaching minimums."

"This is it," Mark said, his voice beginning to tremble. "It's up to you now."