Jared's newly ex-fiance paced the floor. When an AWAC departing Eielson Air Force Base had him suddenly disappear off their radar, they were concerned. When they couldn’t raise him on the radio or find him on 121.5, they called the CAP. Two Cessna 185s were sent out, along his flight path to investigate. In a few hours, they returned with bad news. They’d crested bare mountain tops leading to a narrow pass, and through intense turbulence they found new paint strike marks on the rocks, remnants of a wing below. It was clearly his, the last three digits of his N-number painted in brilliant magenta on the silver skin. The news quickly champed at the story, as the Air Guard picked up the trail. They combed the nearby mountains, he could not have gotten far without a wing. They would never find the rest of the airplane. He was declared missing and presumed killed. News didn’t take long to travel back to his friends and family.

His best friend in the world and his roommate Clay, sat in the dark in his tri-five Chevy. They’d gotten into a fight over something dumb, he didn’t even remember what it was. Jared was testy, overwhelmed. Clay was going to talk to him, and had tried calling him when Jared took off in his Beaver. Jared had left the house rather than continuing to argue, slamming the door on his truck, stomping on the gas, laying rubber on the blacktop. His rear end swung loose and he compensated in the steering, driving for the airport. Since then, Clay had a steadily sinking feeling in his gut.

His ex, having broke up that same day, lay crying in his bed. The room felt huge, and empty. She blamed herself. She’d never been very loyal to Jared, and he’d just found out in the worst way possible, by walking in on it. He’d treated her like a queen, and now for the first time she felt as low as she had acted. She sobbed in the quiet room, blankets pulled up close to her head. His words ran through her head constantly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Jared!”

“When we first started dating I had a feeling, but I never thought I’d be right.”

“It’s not what it looks like!”

“It’s exactly what it fuckin' looks like and if this prick doesn’t get out of my house this second I’ll shove my pistol up his ass sideways!” Her ‘lover’ took off nude out the door as fast as he could. “I can’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry...” she cried.

“Y'know what? You go to hell! I loved you, I always put you first and this is how you treat me? He fuckin' can keep you! Get your shit and get out before I'm back.” He slammed the bedroom door behind him, wiping his wet eyes with the back of his wrist, snatching the keys to his plane from the hook on his coat rack on the way out.

She sobbed harder. He wouldn’t have left if not for what she did. Wouldn’t have had so much on his mind, he wouldn’t have been so distracted, wouldn’t have let himself get so close to the mountains. He’d flown in the bush so often he knew better, and he had ignored it. He’d put himself in the position to die in his favorite place in the world, the mountains of Alaska. For as long as he could remember he’d loved the mountains, their blue, white, and grey landscapes captivated his imagination.

He’d had his first ride in a Super Cub when he was 6. A friend and missionary pilot based with a place called ‘King Ranch’ out of Chickaloon had inspired him as a young kid, and he followed aviation since. He worked with a mechanic and pilot from the time he was 13 till he was 20, before moving on to something else. A few months later he bought the Beaver, and here we are.

A young man, 21 years old, found himself struggling to come to life. He’d spent the better part of his life trying to help people and put himself second. It didn’t always work out, but he tried his hardest. He had influenced many people for the better, even ones he didn’t think would listen. He had no idea his lifetime of service would lead him here.

A steady beeping made his weak, pained eyes snap open. His shoulders hurt so bad that he expected to be strapped upside down in his seat. He feebly held up his hands, both arms were in casts, as well as his legs. Typical of a small plane crash, his wrists and ankles broken from the yoke and rudder pedals. The next thing he noticed, was the plastic tube down his throat, pumping air into his lungs. They burned intensely. It meant he was alive, in his pain he relaxed and quickly passed out again. He awoke once more, in what felt like minuets. His casts were off and the tube was out. His body was far more sore A doctor was gently changing his Iv. More accurately, a therapy animal was gnawing at it. Jared weakly swatted at the miniature horse, attempting to shoo it away.

“Leav eb alon!” He managed to say after a moment, his nose plugged by mucus from having sat for so long. He fumbled with a napkin on a try beside him and blew his nose, and immediately felt pain shoot through his body. He cringed and sat back until it subsided, blowing the other side of his nose. The animal had ran out, he didn’t care. Why would they let those things run loose anyway? His eyes gently lulled shut for a moment, before snapping back open. He forced himself to a sitting position and looked out the door as best as he could. The horse was painted, with an abnormal head. He knew exactly what that was, and he didn’t like it.

“I’m dead, arent I? I’m dead.”

“Quite the contrary!” A large white alicorn walked in.

“Oh please god no...”

“I’m quite surprised you survived that... Much less that you can speak, in perfect Equis no less.”

“Dont... Dont with the horse puns...” Jared sighed, holding his head in his hands.

“Excuse me?” She raised an eyebrow, appearing very offended.

“Of all the punishments in hell... Why this...”

Author's Note

Thanks so much for all the interest!