The drive proved uneventful, as the cultist was not actually following me. After a while of scenic Icelandic countryside at night, I reached the airport, though I couldn't go in through the front door; I would surely have been detected.
The only logical plan was to vault over the fence and onto the runway, where I would find a plane which was heading to somewhere in Norway, preferably Oslo.
Unfortunately, I couldn't actually tell where each plane was going from the outside, so I had to just guess and get really lucky. I made my guess, climbed up the conveyor belt and into the cargo hold of my chosen plane, and hoped for the best.
After almost two hours fifteen of flight, the plane suddenly and sharply descended, and I braced myself for an imminent crash. The seconds wore by incredibly slowly, until the plane impacted the ground and slowed to a halt.
After several hours, when I was certain that everyone had dispersed from the wreck-site, I found my way out of the corpse of the plane and attempted to ascertain where I was.
No comments:
Post a Comment