Asiatica 5679

ACT FOURTEEN

Crashed Nakajima Fighter

Rachel tightens the final bolt. The engine is closed. Repaired, and closed. Jacob's engine had had the components she needed, but he hadn't exactly been willing to part with it, so she had regrettably had to steal it. She checks the cockpit for any further issues with the instruments. There is nothing left to do. The plane is ready to fly.

Well, almost. The Nakajima is still suspended in the rainforest canopy. The single seat aeroplane is wrapped in vines and branches, stopping it from touching the ground. Rachel looks around. The skeleton of the pilot is still present on the ground, slightly shrouded in shrubbery. She approaches it, and notices the items of clothing which are missing. "That bitch," she murmurs, investigating the body closer. She finds an officer's sword on its' hip, and unsheathes it. The sword is blunt and will probably not cut the vines well, but still useful.

She slams the dull sword against the vine, and it snaps instantly. The aircraft groans as it shifts slightly lower to the ground. Rachel looks around, if she can get it out of this tree, it will probably just roll down to the beach. She discovered the release earlier to fold up the wings, which she theorises could make it fit between the trees. 

She climbs to the cockpit once again, and presses the button to drop the landing gear. She climbs back out, and hacks away at the remaining vines. She slashes one final vine, and a branch suddenly snaps. The Nakajima drops to the forest floor, and rolls forward until its' wings come to rest on a pair of trees. 

Rachel hoists herself into the cockpit once more. Procrastination is unhelpful, and there's only one seat. She's leaving here and now. She presses the release for the wings, and an electric motor whirrs as they fold up. The plane rolls forward slowly and gently down the hill. Rachel steers it around the trees. She's confident in her ability to fly this rickety old imperial Japanese fighter plane, regardless of lacking in any previous experience or skill. 

After a while of jungle rolling, the plane rolls to a stop at the beach, and Rachel jumps out of the cockpit, and spins the rotor. Nothing happens. She spins it again, and still, nothing happens. Once more, she spins the rotor, and the engine chokes to life. Rachel clambers back towards the cockpit, and spots two figures standing down the beach behind her.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" one of them shouts. 

"Fuck," Rachel says, muffled by the loud aeroplane engine. It is Karen. "GOOD LUCK!" She shouts back, saluting and climbing into the cockpit. She slides the glass canopy closed and begins to check her instruments. She unfolds the wings and increases the thrust to the plane. It slowly glides forward, and she turns it to face down the beach. 

She cackles, realising that this might have worked. As she increases thrust to the engine further, she hears a thud off the left side of the plane. She looks and realises Karen is on the wing, having sprinted to catch up to the plane. "Get off me you bitch!" Rachel shouts, laughing nervously. 

"STOP THE PLANE!" Karen screams, clinging to the smooth metal wing. 

"No!" Rachel continues increasing thrust to the engines, and the plane speeds up. She has the faded instruction manual open on her lap. The plane bumps down the beach, and Rachel increases the thrust to its highest level. The plane is now roaring down the beach, and Karen slowly begins to slip.

The fighter gains lift,  and takes to the air. "Let go!" Rachel shouts outside. The plane takes off from the island, over the water, and Rachel rolls the aircraft suddenly, sending Karen flying into the water a few metres below. "God!" Rachel shouts, relieved. She pulls up and takes into the air, still cackling from her unlikely success. She looks down at the compass, and begins heading due west.

Karen is soaked. She strides out of the water, cursing the now-long-gone plane and its' occupant for drenching her. Admittedly, she probably shouldn't have tried to hang on after it took off, but she really hadn't expected Rachel to keep going to that point.

Karen walks back up the beach. The sun sets behind her as she walks, and the island is bathed in orange light. She searches for Jennifer. Before they had seen the plane taking off, the two had been out collecting coconuts. Karen had found a piece of chain, and some metal shards, which she had decided to use to make a pair of coconut-nun-chucks. Coconunchucks, if you will. She was still laughing over that joke, and she had hoped Jennifer found it just as funny as her. Jennifer had suggested calling it the Coconator, however, which was still a good, laughable name, but Karen had thought Coconunchucks was funnier. But now, she couldn't even so much as find Jennifer. 

As she reaches the point on the beach in which she thought she left her, she spots a drabble of blood. "Oh no..." she says to herself. Following the blood trail, she finds a small secluded spot at the edge of the jungle, and there, lying amongst the leaf litter, Jennifer's dead body lies, covered in blood. There is one singular wound in the centre of her torso, an where a weapon has pierced her. At her side is the coconut nun-chucks. Karen reaches down, grabbing the nun-chucks. Jennifer, after Karen had left her to pursue the aeroplane, had seemingly finished making them. 

Karen is shocked, unable to speak. Her best friend of 6 years, now dead. Karen's mind races. Who, or what did this? Why? How? Who would be insane enough to attack Jennifer?

Insane. There is one person on this island who insane. The person who didn't show any remorse when he was informed of Grace's death. The person who decreed himself leader of the island, and fashioned himself a sword out of a piece of plane so that he could rule with an iron fist.

Jacob.  Karen boils with rage, she is livid. "How could he?!" she breathes heavily, leaning down to Jennifer. The wound in her torso matches the sword Jacob carries, and with his recent loss of mental faculties, it seems likely that he was responsible. 

Karen stands back up, and places a leaf delicately onto Jennifer's face, mourning her loss. "This island is a curse, we must escape it. I will avenge you, Jennifer. Thank you for this weapon, I shall call it the Coconator, as you suggested. I'll use it well, in my onslaught of that bastard. He needs to learn a lesson, once and for all."