I looked out the window as the sun set over an endless sea of clouds floating below, looking every bit like I was sailing on my way to Heaven. But inside the plane was a different story.

I was sitting in Premium Economy class. Translation, the cattle car with around an inch of extra legroom.

As I glanced longingly up the aisle toward the first class section, a man who looked like he weighed easily 350 if not 400 pounds plopped into the seat beside me. I say plopped, but it was more of a struggle than that. It was like watching trying to shove a beach ball into a balloon.

When he finally squeezed his way into the seat, he looked at me and smiled sheepishly. I’m sure he was embarrassed just as I was sure that I would regret having the window seat when the horrible time came that I had to go to the bathroom.

I thought they had a weight limit for passengers. I suppose when you buy cheap seats you get what you pay for. I tried to get the company to spring for first class, but they wouldn’t hear of it. Premium economy was as high as they would go.

I guess I see where their top salesman ranks.

Ok, maybe not the top salesman, but I do sell some.

Anyway, I tried to settle in beside my new best buddy whom in my mind I affectionately labeled, ‘The Blimp’.

This was going to be the longest nine-hour flight of my life.

I spent the first hour trying in vain to get some work done on my laptop. That was when my bladder betrayed me. I tried to ignore it and keep working for another half hour, but then it was time. I got an emergency notice from down below, ‘go to the bathroom or go in your pants.’

I surrendered and began the long process of trying to wake the blimp.

I nudged him, then pushed him, then pinched him.

Finally, he roused from his slumber like a sleeping dragon.

“Are we there already?” he said, yawning.

“No, sorry, I have to use the restroom,” I said.

He looked at me as if I had just asked him to skip the next several meals.

“Can’t ya hold it?” he said.

My mind ran through an entire list of expletives and derogatory remarks that I would’ve loved to answer with, but in the end, I went with the one most likely not to get me eaten when I eventually tried to sleep.

“No, I can’t hold it for another seven-plus hours,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He grunted and began the long extrication process, as my bladder screamed for mercy. Finally, he stood and stepped into the aisle, knocking the hat off the person sitting in front of us.

“Watch it, bud!” the man said.

The blimp stepped aside and pointed at me as I tried to get around him to rush back toward the restrooms.

Both doors said, ‘Occupied’.

I tried the first door just to be sure.

“Someone’s in here,” a woman’s voice singsonged.

I tried the second one.

“Can’t you read?” came an irritated voice from inside the room. “It’s occupied!”

I stood there and endured the pain of an overfull bladder, having no other choice. I looked around to see if there was a garbage can with an empty soda bottle. But there wasn’t.

Just when I was sure my bladder was about to explode, I heard the latch open and a large man stepped out of the bathroom.

He glared at me.

“You gotta problem with lettin’ people use the john in peace?”

“Nope,” I said as I dodged past him and into the bathroom.

I whipped around and latched the door.

“Hey!” the man said from the other side. “I wasn’t done talkin’ ta ya.”

I ignored him as he pounded on the door.

I was too busy relieving myself to pay attention, until I heard, “I’ll be waitin’ out here fer ya.”

‘Great,’ I thought. ‘Now some big, good ole boy wants to kick my butt.’

I finished and was about to flush when I paused instead.

‘Maybe I can wait him out.’

I put the seat down and sat.

After a while, I looked at my watch and it had been ten minutes. Surely, he would be gone by now. I reached for the latch when I heard the other door open.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” I heard him say as the woman in the other bathroom walked by.

He was waiting. And I was sure it wasn’t to say that he understood my urgency and wanted to apologize for taking so long.

I sat back down and contemplated my options.

A) Sit here for the rest of the flight.

B) Go out and get my butt kicked.

I didn’t like either option.

The plane suddenly rocked so hard I was thrown against the wall. I saw stars. It took me a minute to recover and stand to go see what had happened when I was thrown against the wall again. This time I nearly lost consciousness.

I cautiously reached for the door handle when the third time was the charm.

I hit the wall and the lights went out.

***

I woke to cold water slapping me in the face.

I thought I had fallen asleep and a stewardess was waking me up.

The reality was so much worse.

There was water in the room. I’m not talking about a puddle on the floor. I’m talking about water halfway to the ceiling. I had my own pool for the first time in my life.

Instant panic set in.

Had a water pipe burst?

Had I bumped the sink before I went unconscious and flooded the room?

I didn’t want to be responsible for the carpet cleaning cost. I reached for the door and tried to open it, but it was stuck.

Was the big guy leaning against it, trying to teach me a lesson about being impatient?

I pushed again and it gave a little.

I planted my feet against the toilet and shoved with all my might. Finally, the door came open.

My worst nightmare couldn’t be as bad as what I saw.

There was water everywhere. The seats were covered and there was only a few feet of open air from the top of the seats to the ceiling of the plane.

I saw heads bobbing above the water. I sloshed through and saw people still in their seatbelts unconscious. I unfastened those closest to me and saw they had life preservers around their necks. I looked around for one for myself.

I glanced over and there was the blimp, still fastened into his seat, not moving. I shook him, but he didn’t respond. I unfastened his seatbelt, but he was wedged in and couldn’t get float out. I struggled to release him but realized he hadn’t moved the entire time. I checked for a pulse, but he was gone.

I pulled the life preserver over his head and put it on my own.

I looked up the aisle and saw many more heads bobbing. I also saw the water had risen. Panic gripped me and told me I was about to drown.

I started swimming my way toward the front, hoping to find the emergency exit. On the way, I unlatched as many seatbelts as I could. All the passengers looked like they were unconscious, but just in case.

I made it to the emergency door and tried to open it.

It was harder to open than the bathroom door. I pushed with all my might and it barely budged. I wished I had the big angry guy with me right about now, but I was the only one I’d seen moving.

A few of the passengers I’d released floated toward me, but their eyes remained closed.

For what seemed like hours, I struggled to open the emergency door to no avail. I paused to take a breather when I heard a horrible sound. It was like a screeching, and stretching of something inhuman. Like a monster in its death throes.

I looked around, trying to find the source of this horrible sound when I noticed the ceiling had begun to split apart above me.

The screeching sound got louder as the water level rose. The front and back of the plane seemed to be taking on more water and I was standing right in the middle.

The water level rose as the crack grew and my feet no longer touched the floor. The water had risen so high that my life preserver was floating me up toward the ceiling. The problem was, the ceiling was full of jagged edges waiting to rip me to shreds.

I rose, unable to stay down, going straight toward the sharp metal and plastic.

Suddenly, the plane ripped in two, pulling the edges of the two sides away from me and shooting me up to the surface of the water, while the plane was dragged toward the bottom of the ocean.

I bobbed up and down on the ocean waves made worse by the displacement of water from a huge passenger plane. I looked around but it was dark, and all I could see were stars and a thumbnail moon.

I swished the water with my hand, moving in a circle, but couldn’t see anything. The sea was pitch black with only a shimmer of moonlight reflecting off it.

I focused on the shimmer, hoping to see something. A boat, a buoy, anything that might be in the water that could rescue me.

After a while, I was about to give up when I saw something pass through the shimmer. It wasn’t there for long, and it wasn’t very far from me. I started swimming toward it when a terrible thought struck me. What if it was a shark?

I stopped swimming and stayed as still as possible.

My blood froze even though the water wasn’t that cold.

I had no idea where I was, or where anyone else was, and I had no desire to become a snack.

As these thoughts raced through my mind making me want to jump out of the water and run toward land, cartoon style, I felt something touch my leg. My body involuntarily made use of the endless bathroom I was floating in.

I didn’t move. I used every ounce of determination, fueled by sheer terror, to stay as still as possible.

I waited for an eternity.

Nothing happened.

Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, something touched me again.

It was toying with me. Tenderizing me. Waiting for me to lose it and start thrashing around so it could enjoy its meal.

It bumped me again, this time on my head.

‘Wait a minute,’ I thought. ‘Sharks don’t jump out of the water to get what’s already in their reach.’

I took a deep breath and turned around to see what had been touching me.

It was a fellow passenger floating in their life preserver. In fact, it was the man who had been in the bathroom.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“So you made it too?” I said.

The man stared at me silently.

“You’re not still mad at me for that silly bathroom thing, are you?” I said.

He refused to speak.

“Let it go, man,” I said. “Be happy we made it through this.”

His eyes penetrated mine.

“Fine, be mad if you want.”

Then he turned his eyes away from me and stared off into the distance.

“What?” I said. “What do you see? What’s out there?”

I turned and scanned the horizon to see what it was he had spotted. As hard as I looked, I didn’t see a thing.

“What did you… ?” I trailed off.

He was gone. I was once again alone in a sea of darkness.

I questioned if I he had ever been there at all.

What was happening to me? Was I losing my mind?

As I questioned my sanity, I heard something off in the distance.

I listened for a long time before I heard it again.

It was a whistle. Not like someone whistling a tune, but a plastic whistle someone would use to call for help.

This stirred a memory. I looked down at my life preserver and sure enough, there was a plastic whistle attached to it. I pulled it free and began blowing it in answer.

After several loud blasts, I waited. There was a whistle in answer.

I began swimming toward where I had heard the sound. After a few minutes, I stopped to rest and blew my whistle again. When the return whistle came, I was surprised to find the sound didn’t come from in front of me, but off to my right.

I must’ve gotten turned around somehow. I started swimming in the direction of the sound and stopped to blow my whistle.

Once again the answering whistle didn’t come from in front of me but off to the left, almost behind me.

‘Am I swimming too hard and going right past them?’

I decided to stay still for a few minutes and then blow my whistle.

When the answer came, it was in a completely different spot. I tried to test my theory that it wasn’t me that was moving. I stared in the direction of the last whistle and waited for a minute. When the answering call came this time, it was behind me.

The stranger thing was, it seemed like no matter what I did, the whistle never got any closer or farther away.

I was getting creeped out. I stopped whistling. After a while, I heard the whistle again, this time from in front of me. I refused to move or answer. After a while, I heard it again, still in front of me.

There was no doubt in my mind. Someone was playing games. My first and most obvious guess was the guy from the bathroom. He seemed like the kind to play mind games on someone.

But would he go further? As far as I knew we were in the ocean alone. I had no idea how many had made it out of the plane, but I was sure the guy wouldn’t be able to convince them all to play along with his stupid little game when they were fearing for their lives.

The darkness began to fade as the first vestiges of light fought against it, turning the sky steel grey. The light brought me hope and would also bring me answers. This guy could hide and play games in the dark, but the light would reveal his deception.

As the grey sky turned lighter and gave way to orange, then bright yellow, I saw dots all around on the surface of the water.

I swam toward one and found it was another passenger.

“Glad to see you made it,” I said. “I was indisposed at the time, any idea what happened?”

The woman looked back at me with empty eyes.

“Hello?” I said, waving my hand in front of her face and snapping my fingers.

She didn’t respond.

I reached over and felt her neck for a pulse, waiting to be slapped for being so forward. But the only slap I received was reality. She had no pulse. She was dead.

I felt helpless. I wanted to say something, to do something. But there was nothing to be done. The woman slowly floated away from me.

I looked around and saw several others bobbing on the water. There were at least a dozen.

“Hello?” I called out. “Is anyone else alive?”

My eyes searched the faces one by one looking for any sign of a response, but I found none.

Hopelessness turned to determination.

This was something I could do. I could check these people to see if they were sleeping or…

I swam to the closest one and checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

I swam to the next and the next, and again nothing. When I got done checking those I had seen first, a few more popped up a little further away that I must’ve missed. I checked them all. Until I was done I had discovered thirty-two people who had managed to get out of their seatbelts, only to perish some other way. The strange thing was I didn’t notice any obvious injuries.

There were no head wounds that I saw and no cloud of blood circling any of them. It was like they just gave up.

I checked the last body and to my astonishment, it was the man from the bathroom. The same one who had bumped into me last night. Had he been alive then? I thought so. But the more I replayed our encounter, the less I believed he had been alive. More than likely he just happened to bump into me as his dead body floated in the water.

As I was pondering this, I saw another body. I swam over to check it then stopped cold. I recognized this guy. It was someone I had checked already. But that was impossible. I had checked him over a dozen bodies ago. Had I gone in a circle?

Everywhere I looked there was nothing but water. With no frame of reference, and no land, I could’ve gotten turned around. And then I looked up. The sun was high in the sky. Once it started going down, I would have the ultimate reference. I couldn’t possibly lose the sun.

Then I saw dark clouds on the horizon, reminding me how wrong I was.

I hoped and wished and prayed for them to turn and go in another direction. But they didn’t. Slowly, they approached like a blanket of doom.

As I watched the approaching clouds, one of the people near me suddenly disappeared under the water.

My eyes grew wide at this apparition. They didn’t slip out of their life preserver, it would’ve stayed on the surface. I was fairly sure it wasn’t my imagination, but after the last few hours, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure of anything.

I had to entertain the idea that I might be slipping into madness. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten or drank anything. And I was sure that I had swallowed minuscule amounts of seawater since the crash.

Come to think of it, I had been feeling lethargic. I’m pretty sure that’s one of the signs of seawater poisoning. Or it could be the fact that I hadn’t slept in who knows how long.

As these thoughts rolled through my mind, the passenger popped back up. He looked the same, but his head was tilting to the side a little. I wondered if I was just imagining it when I saw the water around him was tinged with red.

It reminded me of that scene in Jaws when the sheriff sees the first shark attack with his own eyes and the camera zoomed in on his shocked and horrified face. That’s how I felt at that moment. Only I wasn’t watching a movie. The danger was real and it was swimming right beside me.

I looked around and spotted the first fin cruising ominously along the water among the bodies. It went under the water and soon another passenger dipped out of sight. She returned a few minutes later, also with her head listing on its side and a red tinge to the water surrounding her.

The shark must’ve eaten part or most of their legs, disturbing the balance of the body that held them straight up.

Panic consumed me. I tried to stay as still as possible, knowing that sharks are attracted to movement. Every fact from every Shark Week I had ever watched rushed through my head.

I turned as slowly as panic would allow, trying to keep track of the shark, when I caught sight of another fin and another. With blood in the water, there was no doubt it would become a feeding frenzy.

As I wallowed in desperation, when I heard the whistle again, off in the distance. This time it was no long mournful note, it was sharp, panicked blasts.

I started swimming towards the whistle, slowly, trying not to make too much splash. The benefit was I was swimming away from where the sharks were feeding. I started to feel relieved when I heard another salvo of whistles. It struck me how they seemed to convey a sense of alarm, even bordering on hysteria.

Was I going from proverbial frying pan to fire?

Was the mysterious whistler being attacked by sharks too?

Or even worse, was there even anyone whistling?

I had tried to get close to the whistles earlier but couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. Was this some trick? Was there some creature luring me to some horrible doom?

I’d heard stories of sirens leading men to their deaths. I wasn’t sure if I believed such fairy tales or not. Although the longer I attempted to track down the mysterious whistle, the more my mind opened up to supernatural possibilities.

It was almost a moot point. I was so tired. My arms felt like they were encased in concrete. Rescue seemed more unlikely by the moment.

I stopped swimming because I desperately needed a break. I turned to look back at the swarm of fins amongst the red water and shreds of life preservers. I hoped I was far enough away from the carnage to escape notice.

I turned back to the shock of my life. Off in the distance, I could see something big. Was it an island? My mind screamed with joy. But then reality set in. How would I reach something so far away? My hopes came crashing down.

I closed my eyes in despair. Hopelessness threatened to drown me long before the water could. When I opened my eyes I knew I was dreaming. The island had somehow gotten closer.

I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. When I opened them, sure enough, the island was even closer.

This was it. I had lost my mind. I was delusional, hearing and seeing things that weren’t there. I knew then I was close to death.

The island continued to grow larger, coming straight at me.

I finally realized the island was a ship. I was saved.

The ship continued to grow as it steamed straight toward me.

I saw for the first time, it was an oil tanker and it was about to kill me.

My savior would be my doom.

I resigned myself to the fact that I would survive a plane crash, be tormented by ghostly whistling, avoid being eaten by sharks, only to be run over by a ship that could save me.

As a tear rolled down my cheek, I was deafened by a loud blast. The horns on the ship blew and I saw it begin to turn away from me.

Even better, instead of dying, the ship would turn away from me without even knowing how close it was to rescuing me.

As depression set in I noticed the ship was slowing as it turned. Just before it got to me, it stopped. The waves slammed into me threatening to pull me under. I waited and stared up at the massive side of the ship looking like it was as tall as a skyscraper.

Within minutes I heard the whine of a smaller boat’s engine.

A man pulled up beside me in a boat.

“Are you alright?” he said.

I was so shocked and overjoyed, I couldn’t speak.

He grabbed me and helped me into the boat.

“Hey, are you ok?” he said looking into my eyes.

“Yeah,” I managed to whisper, surprised at the raspiness of my voice.

“Is there anyone else here?” he said.

It took me a moment to think.

“I was following a whistle.”

He looked around, then started the boat off in another direction. Before I knew it, he stopped and pulled someone else out of the water. It was a woman I didn’t recognize. He sat her at the far end of the boat.

“Are you ok?” he asked her.

She looked at him with empty eyes but didn’t answer.

I could empathize with her. The shock of the last twenty-four hours must’ve rendered her mute. I saw the whistle in her hand and knew she was the one I had been chasing.

“Did you see anyone else?” he asked her.

She didn’t look at him and said nothing.

He hung his head and turned the boat to head back to the ship. When we got there, he hooked the boat onto wires that hung down and shouted up to the deck. The boat started rising. I knew I was finally safe.

The woman looked up for the first time. She looked at the man who had rescued us and grinned.

There was something wrong with her grin. It was too big. There was no way her mouth could be human. Her teeth grew impossibly long and pointy, and her face turned green. Her clothes melted away into the form of some lizard/fish-looking creature. She dove at the man and sank her teeth into his neck. He screamed as she viciously attacked, ripping and tearing at his face, arms, and chest.

It wasn’t long until he was nothing but a bloody lump of flesh. She turned to me and dove.

Watching him being torn apart had given me a moment to acknowledge what had happened. I focused all my energy on one desperate plan. As she dove toward me, I kicked with all I had. My foot impacted her in the face and changed her direction. Instead of diving at me, the kick turned her and she sailed over the edge of the rising boat.

I listened to the inhuman shriek as it fell all the way down to the water.

I laid back in the boat, exhausted, mentally and physically.

I opened my eyes when I felt the boat lurch to a stop. The crewmen looked into the boat and recoiled as they saw the remains of their crewmate laying next to me.

They backed away and called for the captain. Once he arrived and surveyed the scene, he ordered me taken to a room and cleaned up, and the remains to be removed.

It was sometime later, after I had slept, that there came a knock on the door. The captain came in and sat down beside my bed.

“Have you gotten some rest?” he said.

“Yes, thank you,” I said. “And thank you for rescuing me.”

“Unfortunately, you can no longer thank the person responsible for your rescue.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The man who came down in the boat is the one who spotted you in the water and called for the ship to stop.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like to tell me what happened?”

I sighed deeply.

“Where would you like me to start?”

“The beginning is a good place.”