Part of the Omniverse Project
Based on Characters and Situations created by Joss Whedon, and J.J. Abrams. Far as I know neither of those men have sold out the rights, so I'll credit them with owning said rights. Which means I don't have them.
“Excuse me!” a voice called, waking Wood from his doze. A blonde young man darted up the aisle past his seat, the flight attendants hurrying after him.
He checked his watch, still a few hours till their destination. He looked at the file again. Nothing particularly interesting about this slayer. Obviously Giles wasn’t expecting any trouble. If he was, likely he would have sent someone with him. Not that anyone thought he wasn’t capable, but with no shortage of Slayers, they always sent back up if any complications were expected.
He looked to his right, wishing Faith had come with him. She’d no doubt be able to liven up a long boring flight.
With a ding, the fasten seatbelts sign turned on, as the plane hit some minor turbulence. Good thing Buffy wasn’t here, what with her newly discovered fear of flying. He grinned at the memory of the usually unflappable Slayer, eyes clenched shut in terror. He chuckled. And the bottom dropped out of the world. Anything and anyone not firmly secured, hit the ceiling and went flying. Oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling as the plane shook. Fighting to remain calm, Robin grabbed the mask, and tried, as they were instructed at the beginning of the flight, to breathe normally. A horrible wrenching sound from the tail heralded disaster.
“I don’t believe it,” he thought. “I survive who knows ho many Vampire attacks, and a fight with the first evil, and this is how I die? A freakin’ plane crash?!”
First he heard screams. Then he felt the seat beneath him, and the sun on his face. He opened his eyes to chaos. Survivors were wandering aimlessly, or sitting in shock, or simply screaming. He tried to sit up, but he was stuck. Looking down, he saw with a bit of amusement, that his seatbelt was still fastened. Something exploded as he undid the fastening, and he rolled off onto the sand, barely dodging the flaming remains of the engine that slammed down right where he’d been, scant seconds ago.
“Jesus!” an accented voice cried, and he stood shakily. A hand steadied him and a young man in a hooded sweatshirt asked; “You okay?”
He immediately recognized the voice as that which had exclaimed earlier and then realized that this was the same young man who’d pelted past him on the plane.
“Yeah,” he said, still recovering. “Yeah I’m okay.”
He wandered off, barely distinguishable from most of the others, milling about in a state of semi awareness.
Someone was muttering George Carlin’s airline safety lecture routine. An Asian man was screaming frantically in another language. A man in a suit was dashing from one crisis to another hollering instructions. Wood barely took notice of any of them.
His feet were wet. He looked down, and realized he’d wandered into the surf. And like waking from a daydream, he saw his surroundings. If not for the plane wreck, the beach could be described as idyllic.
A child was crying. The school administrator in him took over, and he searched, soon locating a boy, maybe about nine or ten, huddled in the shadows of the wreck.
“Hey,” Wood said gently, dropping to his knees in front of him. “You alright?”
The boy looked up, immediately swallowing his tears and putting on a brave face. Wood was reminded of himself at that age, soon after his mother had been killed.
“I can’t find my dog. Or my dad.”
“What’s your name?”
“Pleased to meet you Walt, I’m Robin-“
“Like Batman’s sidekick?”
“Well I’m pretty sure my mom had the bird in mind, but that’ll work. Now Walt, maybe I can help find your dad. What’s he look like?”
“A little like you,” Walt said. “Except he has hair.”
“Right.” He stood, and Walt followed him into the slowly quieting chaos. The man in the suit was gone, the Asian man had found who Wood assumed was his wife. A middle eastern man was gathering wood.
And there was a man calling out Walt’s name.
“Well that was easy.”
As night fell, Wood sat in front of a fire with an older black woman, and a few others. No one was really saying anything, but one young man, wearing miraculously intact glasses was singing the Gilligan’s island theme to himself.
The quiet was shattered by a noise from the jungle. Something very large was moving through the trees at the edge of the beach.
“Did everybody see that?” a pregnant woman with an Australian accent asked fearfully, as several trees shook violently, and some even fell, knocked aside by whatever was stalking the tree line.
Wood rose to his feet and quickly found a piece of metal making a makeshift machete. He found himself standing by the suited man, who’d turned out to be a doctor, another young woman, and the blonde man, who’s name he’d learned was Charlie.
Whatever it was in the trees screeched, sounding a bit like a train.
Charlie summed up their feelings succinctly.
To be continued…