**WATTYS 2022 WINNER** Seventeen-year-old Evelyn Werth is on an endless flight from hell. She's the only person onboard Aloha Airways Flight 1333 who's caught in a 28-minute time loop.
During each cycle, four things happen:
1. The Internet goes out...
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Still Loop 7
It's the first time in my life there's a gun pointing directly at me. The first time I'm staring down a dark barrel, knowing that my future – my fate on this planet – lies solely in another person's hands. It's his decision that determines my life.
And it all comes down to a single finger lying on a curved trigger. All it would take is a small flick backwards, no greater than a half of an inch of space. And within a second, or less, a bullet could be launched directly at me and drill a hole through my chest, so fast I won't see it happen. Too fast to even react.
It could all be over before I even realized it started. Everything would end within the blink of an eye.
And now, in this second, watching my fate hanging in the balance of a finger, I know with shocking clarity that only one thing matters.
I have to do everything to try to help the people on this flight.
It's up to me. And it all comes down to this very moment. I have to risk my life for everyone else to live.
As the thought crystallizes, the plane pitches forward and the co-pilot's body slams against the curved windshield of the plane. My feet leave the ground and I'm being launched through the air.
Then I slam into the glass next to him, as the plane free falls towards the earth.
Down, down, down.
I reach out and grab Alex's arm, fumbling for the gun in his hands, as he wrestles me back. But I have to get it out of his hands, got to make sure that he can't hurt anyone else on this plane. Not Evelyn, or Anton Singh, or Dekor Astor, or Mags, or Edward Pickens III.
I launch myself to the side onto Alex. I press his head against the curved windshield, using every part of my body as I hurl my weight against him, pinning him down. I grab his wrist and twist it, as my stomach falls with the plane.
He fights back, pressing his hand against my throat, so hard my breath runs thin. I gasp, but I can't release his wrist. If I do, he'll use the gun. I torque his hand harder and harder, as he shoves his hand against my neck, cutting off any remaining air flow.
My breath is halted in my chest, with nowhere to go. I have only a second - or less - left.
And its then that I realize there's someone else in this cramped cockpit. Jason DeSouza, the chiropractor from Tampa, who has managed to crawl into the pilot's spot. His hands are in quick motion, hitting various items on the control panel, as his voice carries through the radio.
