Flight 77

 

 

Through this fog can appear 

objects not meant for here.

It was approaching ten o’clock and the carriage was traveling west, toward Netherbury. Despite the late hour of the morning, the natural state of their county ensured that dew still presented on the grass they rode through. Surrounded by a thick fog on all sides, having limited visibility extending only a few dozen meters, Lydia and others entertained themselves through conversation, rather than idle viewing of their countryside.

On board, apart from Lydia, was her mother, her father, and Lydia’s fiance, Edward. Having only been announced two days prior, the carriage was being drawn to Edward’s parents estate in Netherbury. From Evershot, the trek to her soon to be families estate represented an hours travel. Idle conversation not withstanding, much of the ride thus far had been composed of long silences more appropriate for complete strangers.

During these moments, in-between the bouts of language Lydia’s father compelled on Edward in regards to the condition of his family’s estate, the newly formed couple would share glances across the carriage. The two had first met not three months previously and had only formally danced three weeks ago during the county’s annual ball.

As the sound of the carriages wheels could be heard outside, scraping through the slightly damp dirt underneath, and the sounds of Lydia’s father praising Edward on such a beautiful landscape as they were approaching his property, another sound could be heard approaching. At first almost imperceptible, the sound of a faint roar could be increasingly discerned. Within moments, the sound had become considerably louder, and all occupants had started looking out of the side windows in hopes of finding the source.

Through the window, and having their county bless them with a late morning fog, their surroundings were reduced to a soft, white haze. Contrasting this pleasing view was now an almost deafening and undefinable roar, unlike any machine or creature they knew. By this moment, they realized that whatever was fast approaching was now, in fact, overhead. In mere seconds, this hovering sound had now overshot them and continued on into the white distance. As Edward peered out of his window, and with the carriage now stopped in terror, a great flame could be briefly made coming from behind a nearby hillside.

Being the only witness, Edward exclaimed what he had seen to Lydia and her family, instinctively opening the carriage door while doing so. “Where are you going off to?”, spoke Lydia in a worried tone. Now standing out of the carriage, Edward looked back at Lydia. “I need to see what it is. Someone might be hurt.” “It’s dangerous.”, whispered Lydia under her breath, not wanting her parents to think her too instructive toward her fiance. In that moment, Edward reached out her hand toward Lydia and asked her to come with him.

She paused for a moment but knew that Edward would be going no matter what, and that the more people has with him, the safer he would be. She took his hand, stepped out of the carriage still holding their parents, and made toward the hill with Edward. She quickly realized her shoes were not made for the soft grass she now ran across, and held onto Edward as best she could while ascending.

Moving slowly over the crest, and now seeing a large black smoke plume emanating further out of sight, they made their way fully over the hill. There, not far in the distance, Edward and Lydia saw something they couldn’t immediately describe. As best they could, it appeared a large, white, cylindrical object laying flat on the field. Around the object laid mounds of dirt and loose material, presumably from the object. From what was assumed the rear of the object, a large fire could be seen as the source of the smoke.

After a moment of taking in the basic design of the object, Edward could make a possibly more important detail he hadn’t first noticed. Although partially obscured by recently formed damage, along the length of the cylinder, writing could be seen. Running with Lydia in hand to get a better look at the object and more clearly read the inscription, Edward could make out a word. ‘American’. The second word could not be seen through the damage but the first word was unmistakable. “Was this an American machine of some sort?”, Edward thought to himself.

Without much time to think this theory through, the final twist in this event occurred. From the side of this cylinder suddenly opened two doors that swung outward. Without a moments hesitation, following this action, a long, yellow reflective ramp sprung from the openings. Edward looked back at Lydia to gauge her reaction at what they were seeing. She mouth fixed open, and her eyes unblinking on what laid before them.

When Edward looked back at the cylinder, this final part he could not fully grasp. Coming down the ramp, one after another… people.

Hundreds of people.