Page 8 of The Last Man on Earth
Then the world tilts, metal screams, and everything goes black.
Chapter 4
Villain
My ears are ringingso loud, I can’t tell if I’m still yelling or if I’m quiet.
It’s dark.
Hazy.
I wonder if I’m dreaming.
I smell smoke and wonder if one of my boys left a blunt somewhere and it caught fire. Dumb asses. So fucking irresponsible sometimes.
Right when I open my eyes all the way, somebody coughs, and I realize I’m not alone.
So I’m definitely not dreaming.
I blink through the haze, confused by the strange shape next to me. Then I realize—that’s a person. That’s my cousin, slumped over in his seat in a real unnatural position.
“No,” I rasp, voice breaking. “No, no, no. Crown! Crown. Come on man.”
My seatbelt’s cutting into my chest. I hear someone moan as I fumble around with the buckle, finally clawing it loose and breaking free. It’s not Crown, though. It’s coming from the back.
I put a hand on Crown’s shoulder, pushing a little at first, then shoving him hard. The way his head is moving lets me know he’s gone.
“Help…” A low, muffled cry cuts through the chaos.
With my heart pounding, I drop to all fours, crawling toward the voice. The smoke is getting worse. I can barely see shit. But now I hear something else. My own voice. I’m going crazy. Gotta be. Wait, it’s Jahir’s phone, still playing my music.
Matter of fact, where the fuck is my nephew?
“Ja?” I croak through my dry throat. Ain’t no way he heard that.
I finally find the voice. It’s coming from Ms. Kiara. I squint through the smoke, straining to make out her face.
“Ms. K? You hurt?”
But all she says is, “Help.”
I don’t know what to do first. My lungs are on fire, my eyes sting, my throat feels like it’s about to swell shut. Maybe if I can get the door open and clear out the smoke…yeah, I’ma do that.
“I’ll be right back, Ms. K. Don’t move, alright?”
Bracing myself on her armrest, I push myself to a standing position and stumble towards the front of the plane. I see the door, but no knob, which makes sense. This ain’t my house. I swipe my hand over the door and the walls around it, feeling for something, a button, a latch, something that’ll get this shit open.
“On the right. Next to the red panel.”
It’s Ariana’s voice, weak and muffled. I don’t even look back, I just move my hand along the wall until I feel it.
This shit ain’t easy to lift. I have to put my back into it, but I finally get that bitch up. I push with all my strength until thedoor opens, squinting against the sun, breathing deep as fresh oxygen rushes in.
The smoke clears around me as I move back to the rear of the plane. I keep my eyes straight like lasers, focused only on Ms. Kiara. I feel like if I look around, I’ma see something I don’t wanna see. Because besides my music, it’s quiet. My boys are quiet.
My stomach lurches at the realization.
I find Ms. Kiara pinned under a tangle of luggage and debris. Her face is streaked with blood and dust, tears carving clean lines through it.
