Saturday Sample and Weekend Writing Warriors

Today I'd like to share an excerpt from my new WIP. I started writing this a few years ago, but I put it aside in favor of other manuscripts. It's time now to pick it back up. I'm struggling to find a title for it, and I don't have a blurb yet, but here's the beginning of the book. If you see anything I need to fix please say so. I've given you ten sentences and a few more to spare.

On Sunday after you finish here you can find more excerpts from a talented group of authors at www.wewriwa.blogspot.com

Last Week

Abruptly, the plane fell out of the cloud into a beautiful summer afternoon.  What the blazes!  One moment they had been fighting the cloud, the next they had left it behind as if it had never existed.  Brent rolled his shoulders to relax his stiff muscles. The electronic gauges had returned to normal, and … no! No, No, No! The engines had stalled.

“Anders!” Brent screamed.  “Anders!  Wake up!  The engines have stalled!”

Anders didn’t move.  

“Help me, Holloway!” Healy cried.  

Mike had either been knocked out cold, or he was dead.  Either way they didn’t have time to help him.  Desperately they fought to restart the engines.  For a moment Brent thought they’d fail, but with a high-pitched scream the engines fired.  They climbed to cruising altitude and put the plane on autopilot.  Brent ran his sleeve across his forehead to wipe the sweat away and turned to Healy, “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Healy replied, his voice shaky.  “I’ve been flying for fifteen years, and I never saw anything like it.”  He stared out of the window as if he feared the killer cloud might still be lurking nearby.  “Mike okay?”

Brent swiveled around in his seat.  “Mike?  Mike, wake up.”

Anders moaned, but he didn’t move. 

“He’s alive anyway,” Brent said.  “Better radio Miami to have ambulances and paramedics on hand.  We probably have some hurt passengers too.  I guess I’d better check.”

Healy laid a restraining hand on Brent’s arm as he started to climb out of his seat.  “Wait.  What if the cloud…”

“Comes back.”

Healy nodded, and Brent relaxed into the pilot’s seat.  Frank had a good point.  “Better call Miami,” he repeated.

Excerpt: We've picked up at the place where I left off.

Healy pushed a button on the audio panel.  “Miami International this is Transworld Flight seven niner, four.  Come in, please.”

The radio squawked, but Miami International didn’t answer.  

Healy tried again.  “Miami International this is Transworld Flight seven niner four.  Come in, please.”

The radio remained silent.

“Try Miami Dade,” Brent suggested.

No answer.

Only one thing explained the lack of a response. “The cloud must have damaged the radio,” Brent said. 

Healy cleared his throat. “Yeah, I guess, but ...”

Brent nodded. “I know.  We’ll try it again in a few minutes.  I guess we should make an announcement to the passengers.”

Healy gestured at the audio panel.  “Go ahead.”

Brent accessed the intercom and said, “Ladies and gentlemen this is Captain Holloway.  We’ve made it through the turbulence, and we should be landing at Miami International in ten minutes.  If you sustained any injuries, please report them to the flight attendants.  We apologize for any inconvenience caused by the turbulence.”

Healy was frowning as Brent finished his speech to the passengers.  “I wonder if we aren’t off course,” he said.

“Why would you think that?”

“For one thing we’re getting some kooky navigational readings, and for another look out the window.  I don’t see…look out the window.”

Brent looked and barely suppressed a gasp. “Wh…What is this?” 

The landscape below appeared as a solid, impenetrable, green canopy bordered by a narrow ribbon of sand bars, coral reefs, and islands. Between this ribbon and the mainland, he saw many lakes, rivers, and lagoons.  He spied a few cleared areas but certainly no roads or buildings even though Miami International now lay only five minutes away.