Destiny's Daughter - Alien Mysteries Investigations PT10

© A Sunderland 2011

Dawn released Gould, spun around to land face down, arms stretched to cushion her fall.
Gould crashed heavily onto the wing. Dawn leapt to her feet and reached out to Gould. From the corner of her eye she saw an orange flame descend.
Dawn threw herself face down. The whole wing lifted. A sheet of flame hit the rear edge and swept over them at a thirty-degree angle.
On the ground, Sub-commander Tennyson reacted first. He threw himself face down in the mud avoiding the direct impact. Others were not so lucky.
O’Malley was blown against the side of his support truck. The fireball shot in through the open door, blew the driver across the cab, and set fire to the seats.
The blast blew the windows out of an SUV, and showered the six crew members inside with glass and fire. Flames swirled round the cabin, rapidly increasing in ferocity.
Dawn quickly scanned the craft. The door had barely opened two inches and the ladder lay on the ground beneath the craft’s nose. Dawn helped Gould to her feet, said. “Wait here,” then leapt off the wing.
O’Malley stumbled to the front of the truck, flung open the door, and dragged the driver out of the burning cab.
Tennyson ran towards the SUV and called to a tall, thin man. “Lorimar, give me a hand.”
Dawn lifted the ladder out of the mud, dragged it back towards the wing, and with a mighty heave, flung it up against the side of the craft. She grabbed an axe and scurried up the ladder. She leapt onto the wing. “Go!” she shouted to Gould.
“I’m not leaving you alone,” Gould shouted back.
Dawn grabbed Gould’s arm, dragged her to the ladder. “Get out. Now!” She pointed to the wounded below, “They need your help.”
“Be safe,” Gould relented and clambered down the ladder.
Dawn stared past the flaps of skin hanging either side of the hole, and the blood dribbling down the hull, and saw the door release lever fully extended. She knew then she’d have to force the door open by herself.
Axe in hand, she reached for the ladder, but it slid forward taking her with it. Her left foot slid off the wing, her right hand instinctively grabbed for support, squashed a flap of Gould’s skin against the hull. Dawn swung her foot onto the ladder and stood spread-eagled, her right toes barely touching the wing.
The ladder rested against the side of the unlatched door. Dawn threw herself fully onto the ladder as flames lit up the side of the craft. She looked over her left shoulder to see the two vehicles ablaze, both within thirty feet of her.
She drove the axe into the tiny gap between door and hull and levered it with all her strength.
Tennyson and Lorimar struggled to open the SUV’s charred, buckled left rear door. Inside a woman screamed for help, her voice, hoarse, rasping from scorched lungs, through a windpipe full of toxins. The left side of her face was charred and sliced by glass, the right side still clearly recognizable.
Lorimar leaned in through the door frame. His long spindly arm reached for the internal handle. Glass fragments cut into his protective suit and dug into his armpit. He wrenched the handle and pulled hard on the door. Tennyson jimmied the door with an axe handle. When it finally it gave way, it shot back before Lorimar could extract his shoulders. He grunted on impact with the rear post. The woman staggered out as flames licked at Lorimar’s trapped head and fumes choked him. Tennyson yanked the door several times as Lorimar struggled wildly. Finally, it moved forward. Lorimar fell to the ground, gasping for air.