I've been flying as a bush pilot in Alaska for the last 5 years or so it's a pretty good job for the right sort of person it goes without saying that you need to be a pretty handy pilot specifically of small and light aircraft but beyond that it also requires a special sort of Personality folks who thrive on social interaction and the safe comfort of civilization need not apply being self-sufficient and mean i al inclined are pretty much prerequisites for those who want to stay on the side of the grave and I'd say it's fairly important that you have a level head and don't have a tendency to panic in stressful situations now don't misunderstand I'm not talking about Thrill Seekers or those who don't have a healthy respect for death those folks don't tend to last too long in this business they either end up as another in the long list of missing planes that gains new entries each year or else they quickly learn that their employers aren't willing to risk their expensive equipment and cargo with someone that isn't going to take every possible precaution to ensure the safe return of set aircraft I'm just saying that you have to be able to set your fears aside when you're in the thick of it if something goes wrong you need a clear head you can always puke or pass out once you're safely on the ground again I've had my share of cold sweats standing on a frozen Runway after a close brush with the afterlife me I'm a transplant from South Florida where I spent much of my time doing puddle jump charters in a small twin engine beachcraft interesting sure but dealing with people has never been my strong suit I'm not exactly the sociable sort even less so when I'm trying to fly when you got four passengers sitting a couple feet behind you and expecting you to play tour guide on their 2-hour flight across the Everglades it gets old pretty quick or at least it did for me I guess it works for some people anyway a flying buddy of mine that I hadn't talked to in years called me up out of the blue one day with a lead on an open seat at the bush charter company he'd been working with out of Fairbanks one of the pilots had decided that the harsh Alaskan Winters and isolation were more than his nerves could take so he gave his notice packed his bags and headed back south truth be told I had never really considered looking for a gig in Alaska I always had the impression that most of the Bush Pilots working there had been flying STL that's short takeoff and Landing in the back country since they were old enough to walk but Nick assured me that there were plenty of respected Pilots up there who had originated from the lower 48 when he floated the salary numbers in my direction I didn't take too long thinking about it before I made my decision and two weeks later I found myself standing in the offices of my new employer that was a while back and although it took a bit to become accustomed to the type of bush flying that this place demands I settled in pretty quick and was soon assigned to my permanent ride a Daval land dhc2 Beaver Maggie after a yellow lab I had as a kid man what a beauty she is solar yellow with black piping and looking just as pristine as when she rolled off the assembly line in 1967 the beaver is probably the best bush plane to ever grace the skies and I'm fairly certain that Maggie saved my ass from a stupid mistake on more than one occasion anyway I'm getting off track so at the time the story took place I'd been flying for Viking Bush charters for probably a year or so I just returned from dropping supplies off to a ranger station up near Denali when I got a call over the radio from my dispatcher I was in The Hanger at the time getting a hot cup of coffee while the mechanic was refitting Maggie with her Tundra tires swapping out the floats I needed for the supply drop off earlier the big almost cartoonish tires were perfect for most of the areas I tended to fly into and made for a soft if energetic Landing I was looking forward to getting back to my trailer and relaxing maybe watching a movie before dozing off but the crackle from my two-way told me that my exciting plans for the night might not play out go for Hooper I answered taking a sip of the steaming coffee the voice of buck Jacobs replied through the light static hey hoop what's your status yeah Mike is working on Maggie's gear and I was getting ready to head home for the evening what's up there was a moment's pause before Buck replied sorry hoop but I need you to do a turnaround we just got a call from a ranger station up near Birch Creek we've got someone up there that had a run in with a brown bear and it's pretty banged up I cursed under my breath but there wasn't any real venom in it I learned a while ago that up here everybody helps when it's needed you never know when it's going to be you on the other side that call can't they fly him out themselves I asked but I was already walking around my plane to where Mike Nichols was working no can do hoop they have a cesna 206 but it's currently out as part of some search and rescue operation we're the nearest phone call I'd send Jackie but she's not back from her run up to Mento yet he replied okay Buck no worries I'll help Mike get Maggie refit and prepped I should be wheels up in an hour or so I said thanks hoop I have the details in your hands in 15 dispatch out and there went my relaxing evening true to my prediction I was taxing down the company's private Runway an hour later the vibration from the big radial engine creating a gentle thrumming that filled the interior it was just before 3 p. m. when I was airborne and being that it was late February I knew I had just over 2 hours before Sunset so long as everything went smoothly that should have been enough time to reach the ranger station load up the passenger and get back to Fairbanks before dark the weather was pretty good when I left it was pushing plus 10° and although the reports were calling for snow that evening the sky was clear as I Rose above the trees and turned Northeast towards the ranger station everything was going smoothly for the first 30 minutes before Those Distant storm CL I'd been watching on the horizon suddenly seemed to have a keen interest in me and headed my way much faster than I would have liked to make matters worse I'd started to notice a subtle bumping sensation intermittently coming from the engine I wasn't sure if I was starting to lose one of the nine cylinders or if it was something else but it was definitely something I was keeping my eye on if I had been on a regular Supply run I'd have turned around and headed back to Fairbanks right then and there to get it checked out but I was acutely aware that anyone who had a tangle with a Grizzly was probably in a bad way my flight out to the Birch Creek Ranger Station may very well mean the difference between life and death for this unfortunate soul after another 15 minutes I knew that I wasn't going to make it to the ranger station the storm clouds that had been approaching had now overtaken me and covered the afternoon sky in a thick blanket of gray black ugliness I could see the periodic flashes of lightning within them and the air had grown turbulent to make matters worse the engine miss that I'd been feeling had become more frequent and severe and I was sure that I now had multiple cylinders that were beginning to fail I grabbed the VHF and radioed back to dispatch Viking ground Viking 320 foxtrot Buck's Voice crackled through a moment later de havin 320 Fox Trot Viking ground breeding you hoop Buck I've run into some nasty weather here and I've started to pick up some engine issues I'm afraid I'm going to have to and head home please advise Birch Creek Ranger Station of my situation Buck didn't argue he knew I wouldn't abort a pickup like this for a few snow flurries Roger that hoop looking at the weather radar advise you make your heading 185° and drop to 900 to avoid the worst the wind shear Roger that Viking 320 Fox Trot out I said banking the plane to the right and starting my return to the Airfield the storm front which had overtaken me from my left had also descended with its approach bringing the clouds low and thick I pushed forward on the Yoke starting my descent to Buck's recommendation and hoping that there weren't any errant mountains in my way 5 minutes later I was fighting with the wind for control of Maggie and was now nearly in a white out condition relying almost exclusively on my instruments for navigation the turbulence was getting severe tossing the Workhorse bush plane around like a kite in a gale more than once the groaning of the wing struts made me wonder if the storm was pushing Maggie past her comfort zone and testing the limits of her airframe I descended a bit more dropping to 500 ft aware that in these low visibility conditions I was pushing my luck with the terrain the air was a little cleaner down here though the visibility a little better but I was still being thrown around and I knew I'd have to climb again pretty soon in order to clear the ridg line I knew was not too far ahead of me an unnerving metallic popping noise above my head Drw my attention momentarily and in that moment I made the decision that I had to find a place to set her down and wait at the storm as best I could the trees below me were becoming visible now at this altitude their peaks piercing the low cloud cover and heavy snowfall like ghostly claws reaching up from the depths of some abysmal grave to drag me down the biggest issue I now faced was finding a suitable place to land safely I knew that the winds had pushed me off course and I wasn't as familiar with this area as most others I spent time flying over I wasn't aware of any Landing strips nearby and was just praying to find a large enough clearing to accommodate her another engine Miss worse this time this time the strain drone of the radial cut out completely for a half second before resuming and for the first time since I come to Alaska I realized that there was a very real possibility that I might not make it home if the engine died completely in what was now a strong Tailwind my air speed would quickly drop until one of my wings stalled when that happened the beaver would Wing over and i' Tumble to the ground in an unrecoverable death spiral it might be months or years before my wreckage was discovered out here in the wilderness I considered trying to turn into the wind to keep as much air speed as possible in that event but it was gusting bad enough that I was afraid to attempt it especially with a limping engine I was getting ready to radio dispatch and let Buck know of my worsening situation when the thick clouds parted ahead of me briefly in that instant I thought I'd won the most important Lottery of my life directly ahead of me a quarter of a mile out was the unmistakable rectangular shape of a small air strip it was covered in snow that I hoped wasn't too deep but it was my salvation a Lifeline that I wouldn't dare refuse I quickly adjusted my Approach and set my flaps as I made for it another strong gust fought me trying to throw me out of alignment with the narrow clearing but I fought back with throttle and Rudder as best I could as I watched the altimeter steadily wind down like an analog clock going backwards in time I reached for the radio headset to advise Buck of my situation and estimated location but the next gust almost tore the Yoke out of my left hand and I snapped instantly back to a white knuckled two-handed grip my altitude dropped to 200 ft I was going too fast I knew at this speed I'd either overshoot the strip Al together and slam into the dense tree line or hit the ground so hard that I'd Shear off my gear and probably break my back in the process I couldn't slow her down any further though or I would risk dropping below stall speed in the strong tailwind and that would mean a Quick Trip To The Frozen Ground 100 ft Maggie's Wings dip below the tree line now as I entered the long and narrow swath of the landing strip The Tall Cedars and sprues towering around me for bingly the Tailwind dropped obscured by the Great Barrier of trees behind me and I took a breath to thank whatever powers that be for this unexpected bit of Good Fortune 50 ft with the flap set to full I bled off air speed quickly and my reflexes took over transitioning from my near balanced flight to a more controlled approach one the beaver was much more suited to 10 ft I pulled back on the Yol and momentarily throttled up as my gear kissed the top of the snow flaring the bush plane and setting down a bit harder than I would have liked the jarring of the impact thankfully cushioned by the tunder tires I rolled out for another 20 ft or so before Maggie came to a halt in the kneee snow thankful that I hadn't nosed over I killed the engine and rested my forehead on the Yol trying to get my heart rate under control I didn't think the shaking of my hands had anything to do with the temperature the daylight was fading but was still light enough to allow me a good view of my surroundings through Maggie's windows I was in the middle of what I guessed was the landing strip since the trees lined on either side seemed to be about the same distance from me those trees were even more imposing down here on the ground they Rose like towering walls on either side and the woodlands Beyond held deep shadow they were only accentuated by the heavy snowfall that continued to obscure my vision I reached for the radio and keyed the mic hailing dispatch I didn't have much faith that the VHF would be able to penetrate the trees and the Mountain Ridge that lay between me and buck but it was worth a shot after a long moment of hissing static I tried again but with the same results it was doubtful that I'd be able to get a signal through until the storm passed and even then I didn't think it likely unless I could get Maggie Airborne again with only a moment's deliberation and a resigned sigh I retrieved the emergency Locator Beacon from my jacket pocket and activated it the unit would broadcast a distress signal along with my location to the monitoring service I knew it would be a day at least before help arrived but the sooner I sent the call the sooner they'd be able to come get me I took another look out through the fuselage Windows if there was a landing strip that meant a possibility that someone was nearby I didn't think there was a ranger station out here but there were enough hunting cabins and homesteads that there was a decent chance I could find shelter the interior of the plane was still warm but I knew that wouldn't last very long in this weather especially with night approaching I unbuckled myself and climbed back through the seats into the cargo area where I pulled on my heavy coat and shouldered my emergency pack grabbing my rifle from its rack behind the pilot seat I unlatched and swung open the cargo door a blast of Arctic wind hit me in the face and I squinted my eyes against it quickly pulling my goggles on and my hood up before dropping to the snow covered Runway I pulled the cargo door closed and trudged around the rear of the plane standing in the furrows left by Maggie's wheels and turning in a slow Circle as I tried to discern any indication of human presence despite the howling wind that pulled at my coat and Hood I caught the mistakable scent of wood smoke and breathed a small sigh of relief at least I knew I wasn't alone out here as I scanned my surroundings my eyes light lighted on what looked like a small utility shed on the western edge of the clearing and I moved with as much speed as the deep snow would allow in its direction to the left of it I spied a waste High railing marking a walkway that led into the shadowed tree line and Quicken my Pace I followed the trail now feeling what were likely wooden planks beneath my boots once in the trees the brutal wind of the storm lessened and the snow drifted down from the canopy in slow dancing swirls before settling on the ground with a mutant hiss that sounded like the forest around me was quietly exhaling between the dim light of the coming Dusk and the snowfall I couldn't see much beyond the Trees nearest me and I relied on the handrail to guide my travel it was another few minutes of plotting through the snow covered walkway before I finally saw the building at first I thought it was a hunting cabin solitary amidst the Endless Sea of trees as I drew closer though I could see it was much larger than I first thought low and wide and of modern construction some sort of sign stood between two Timber uprights just off the path its face covered in snow and ice I paused to brush it clear somewhat surprised to see the blue background and logo of the Alaskan division of Agriculture white lettering beneath indicated that this was the White River Basin agricultural Research Center I'd never heard of the adoa having Wilderness research centers but I suppose it wasn't too far-fetched regardless this was even better news than I'd expected this meant that I wasn't approaching some isolated hunting camp but instead a government post and that meant my chances of survival and rescue had just increased significantly I gave a hoot of joy and patted the sign as if it were an old friend who had just delivered some good news and joged the remaining handful of yards to the front door of the building just as I approached however the door abruptly swung open spilling yellow light across the white snow a man stepped out from the doorway and shouldered a shotgun leveling it right at my head his eyes wide and wild as they stared down the barrel at me stop right there he shouted at me his words coming in angry puffs of steam in the frigid air don't come any closer whoa hold on a minute Chief just wait I answered my hands going up reflexively I'm not here to cause any trouble he motioned with a shotgun drop the rifle nice and slow I'm warning you I won't hesitate to blow you in half if you make any sudden moves holding my free hand up to show I was no threat I bent slowly and placed the rifle on the ground before Rising again what's going on who are you what are you doing here he demanded I could see the muzzle of the shotgun trembling and worried that he might end up shooting me by mistake just due to nerves he was wearing what looked like a governmen issued coat with an embroidered patch on the shoulder and had a week's growth of beard easy boss I said trying to keep my voice level and calm my name's Hooper I'm a pilot for Viking Bush Charters out of Fairbanks my plane was forced down in the storm and I was lucky to find your Landing Strip before she ended up in the trees I was starting to wonder if Lucky was the right word anymore he looked at me a long minute his eyes scanning me over then motioned at me again with the shotgun take off your goggles let me see your eyes he said that caught me off guard but I nodded and slowly moved my hands to remove the tinted goggles careful not to make any sudden moves he leaned towards me eyes locked hard on mine searchingly then seemingly satisfied he abruptly lowered his gun and nodded as if reassuring himself he jerked his head back toward the doorway and his entire demeanor suddenly changed well Hooper come on inside bring your rifle it's too damn cold out here with that turned and walked back inside resting the shotgun against the interior wall next to the door as he did so now even more confused than before I reached down and picked up my rifle from the snowy ground my gaze never leaving the man as inconspicuously as I could I worked the lever chambering a cartridge and followed him in it was such a bizarre interaction I wanted to make sure he wouldn't surprise me again if he decided to change his mind when I entered the building and closed the door behind me I found myself in what looked like a wood panel visitor's room with a couch on one wall and a blazing fireplace fronted by a couple of chairs on the opposite the man had moved over to a small table near the fireplace pouring a glass of whiskey from a half empty bottle and now seemingly completely disinterested in my presence I frowned and glanced around the room aside from the sparse Furnishings there was a closed door across from the one I had entered through labeled with a restricted access sign the man took a long drink from his glass and turned back to me holding the whiskey bottle out to me in offering I just shook my head sorry about that he said gesturing vaguely to the door behind me can't be too careful I'm Morgan Tate field research I eyed him cautiously okay Morgan Tate did you make a habit of welcoming visitors with a shotgun I still wasn't sure who I was dealing with here but something was clearly off he just grinned at some private joke that he alone shared and then ducked his head in a nod taking another swallow of whiskey lately yeah or at least I would if I got any visitors he pointed at me with his Tumblr and sat heavily in the chair I was starting to get the impression that this wasn't the first drink of the day for MrMorgan Tate you're the first living person I've seen in more than a week he added are you the only one here I asked looking around the room there was a row of hooks on the wall beside the door and I took note of several coats hung there he smirked something unreadable behind his eyes now yeah I didn't know what sort of game he was playing at but I was starting to lose my patience care to elaborate on that having kind of a rough day and you're not making it any easier the dark-haired man finished off his drink and stood sure why not I suppose you're part of this now he said moving past me towards the restricted access door I followed him as he pushed the door open and proceeded along a narrow tiled Corridor lit by harsh fluorescent lights it felt out of place more like I was walking through the halls of a hospital than a a OA building in the middle of the Bush he looked over his shoulder and took note of my surprise yeah not quite like the ranger stations is it he said stopping in front of a heavy looking door at the end of the corridor and keying in a quick code into the panel above the handle I heard a soft click and he pushed it open exposing a darkened room Beyond he entered and the lights flickered on as I followed the room we now stood in was larger than the previous one probably 30 ft across and smelling of antiseptic and chemicals several rows of stainless steel tables were neatly arranged within occupied with various unfamiliar laboratory paraphernalia and equipment in addition to these lab stations there also appeared to be examination tables along the far wall a few of which had white cloths covering unidentifiable shapes I suppressed a shudder it reminded me of a morg though the concealed object were too small to be human bodies what is this place my ass my eyes taking it all in just like the sign outside says Hooper this is the White River Basin agricultural Research Center he replied leaning against one of the tables set up to monitor large mammal Wildlife migrations with potential correlations to climate change huh I replied evenly sounds interesting he grinned no it doesn't not even to me and I work here would you believe that a week ago there were 25 researchers living and working here 25 Hooper this place was hopping man an uncomfortable tingle ran down my spine and I shifted the rifle in my hand the weight of it reassuring as it hung by my side if Tate noticed he didn't mention it what happened last week I asked carefully when he turned back to me the smirk was gone from his face and his eyes had widened whatever was in his thoughts now he didn't find it amusing anymore that's when they came Hooper they the Shadows man the Shadows They Came From The Storm you remember the storm don't you the storm I I knew what he was talking about of course but I don't think anyone around here would forget it anytime soon it was little more than a week ago when the freak blizzard came out of nowhere unpredicted and unexplained what had started out as a cloudless and unseasonably warm morning ended up burying Us in nearly 2 ft of snow by the time it was over The Sky Had shifted from bright and sunny to a bruised and angry granite color within the span of an hour clouds rolling so low and heavy that it seemed like you could reach up and touch them our weather station in the field was clocking sustained wind speeds of 50 knots with gusts up to 85 and we were in a total white out condition for the next 14 hours we were all trapped in the hanger huddled around the kerosene jet heaters listening to the wind as it tried to tear apart the heavy steel structure around us by the time the next day came it was just gone replaced by the Clear Blue Skies of the previous morning nobody had any good explanation for it but I'd heard a couple of the old-timers who ran the Machine Shop Whispering about it in the back I couldn't make out much of what they were saying I didn't much care if I'm being honest but they sounded worried at the time I thought it was a little strange that the weather would unnerve them as much as it seemed to these guys were both full- blood Inuit and as hard as Nails it was almost comical to think they'd be worried about a surprise blizzard no now that I think back on it it almost seemed like they were more worried about something in the blizzard I can't be sure since they kept switching in and out of English but that's the impression I got anyway the Shadows I asked confused his hands drifted off into the distance for a moment lost in his own world in the next moment he snapped them back to me eagerly like he just had an epiphany and said yeah do you want to see one do I want to see a shadow what the hell are you talking about man you're not making any sense but he was already on the move again walking across the room to another door he beckoned me to follow entered his code and pushed it open wordlessly I followed unease whispering in my ear he led me along another hallway glancing over his shoulder periodically like he was making sure I was still there I caught one the other researchers they didn't think it was possible but I knew I could he said and it almost sounded like he was talking to himself more than to me he stopped at a door marked O2 pushed it open and walked inside I trail behind him hesitantly feeling apprehensive about this whole thing a slow feeling of dread had been warming its way through my subconscious and I wasn't so sure I wanted to follow this man much further the whole situation felt wrong and I was starting to think that MrMorgan Tate was more than just a little unhinged where were the other researchers he'd mentioned I'd question whether they ever existed at all if not for the size of the place and the coats hanging by the door in the reception area the room I stepped into now was much smaller than the others and had the feel of some sort of control room the wall to my left held narrow lockers and a rack of coat hooks occupied by several white lab coats to my right was a console lined with monitors and keyboards and above that the entire upper portion of the wall appeared to be an observation window looking into a darkened room on the opposite wall was one of those airlock doors that you see in isolation areas of Hospital hospitals stainless steel and with a small circular window and its smooth surface the computer monitors were on and were displaying various graphs and streams of data Tate sat on one of the chairs at the console and started typing into the keyboard they're incredible he said absently like nothing we've ever seen before I moved closer to the observation window straining to make out anything in the darkened room Beyond all I saw was the stigan Blackness though you have something in there I asked suddenly feeling very uncomfortable I wasn't sure I wanted to see whatever this nutcase wanted to show me why are the lights off he glanced away from the console for a second and turned an unreadable grin on me they're not with that he stood and leaned forward pounding the heel of his fist against the window with a resounding shudder making me jump in surprise I didn't quite understand what I saw next the darkness that had obscured my view suddenly swept aside like someone snatching a curtain violently from across a window and out of sight but that wasn't quite right either though it was more fluid in its abrupt motion almost like smoke being pulled away by an incredibly powerful and unseen exhaust fan a muted screeching sound reached my ears sounding eerily like a poor imitation of a bird of prey I assumed that the observation room was soundproof or near enough and wondered exactly how loud that wailing must have been for it to reach my ears I leaned closer to the window peering upward and to the left where the darkness had disappeared to but I couldn't see any vestage of it and then I looked to the rest of the room and Drw an involuntary gasp at the horror I saw a dozen corpses lay strewn about the otherwise Barren interior of the room but they weren't bodies anymore not really they were nothing more than skeletons now still dressed in the clothes they'd worn when they fell most were intact though a few had scattered where they struck the tiled floor the bones were stripped of all remnants of Flesh and were bleach white what the I said in revulsion and shock barely above a whisper Tate nodded excitedly it's incredible isn't it the others left but I was able to lure two of them into the holding room and drop them there I stepped back feeling my stomach turn and turned an incredulous gaze upon the man but the bodies he nodded again almost eagerly that's how I lured them most of the remaining researchers fled in here to hide from it you see it needs to eat to hunt it can't survive without sustenance no more than you or I there were two in the beginning but after the food ran out this one turned on the other now there's only one the food you mean those people I tightened the grip on my rifle and took a step backwards to put a little space between the two of us when the Shadows came in from the darkness of the storm a few of them were able to slip into the building before we realized what was happening half of the researchers were taken that night in their sleep you see they hide wait for the right moment they avoid the light I think it weakens them but in the darkness he trailed off and I saw an uncomfortable smile grow across its lips almost of admiration it seemed in the darkness that's where they live that's where they Thrive where they rain I took another step backwards my free hand reaching for the door handle behind me and opening it pushing it with my foot you're crazy I said bring the rifle up in line with his chest if he even noticed it he gave no indication his eyes had taken on that maniacal glint again and he stood giving a small nod that I thought was meant to reassure me there's no more for it to eat Hooper it's been days since I've been able to feed it he took a slow step toward me and I mashed it with a retreating one of my own he smiled and continued as if explaining to a child I have only myself left to offer but that is not enough don't you understand this isn't just a thing not just an animal it's far beyond our understanding far beyond our own primitive Evolution it's perfect his eyes flicked away from me for a moment to an illuminated red button on the console nearby and his hand drifted over to it don't I shouted bring the rifle up to my shoulder don't do it Tate there's nothing to be afraid of he said an obscene caricature of gentleness spilling his voice it's quick his hand hovered over the button I will shoot you Tate don't make me do it from where I stood I could see another of those airlock doors through the observation window and to my horror a swirling mass of impenetrable Darkness massed at the threshold I could almost feel its anticipation this wasn't the first time it had been fed it knew what was coming in that instant when my eyes flicked away from him Tate stabbed at the button with a curse I squeezed the trigger on the rifle at the same instant but it was too late the deafening report in the small room was immense but even as the round tore through the man's chest he'd already pressed it I watched in horror as the twin airlock doors began to retract and without another thought I turned and fled as fast as my weary muscles could carry me thankfully the codes required to open the doors weren't needed to exit them and I flew down the hall and through the research room as I passed it and threw open the door of the reception area I heard that wailing Screech again from somewhere behind me haunting and otherworldly echoing through the empty facility much louder than before then I heard another sound this one the agonized screaming of Morgan Tate I only gave it the briefest of thoughts as I jerked open the outer door and fled into the snowstorm I could only hope that feeding time would give me enough of a window to make it back to Maggie the air had darkened even more with the coming of Dusk and had grown colder thankfully the storm seemed to have lost much of its Fury the the front having now passed and leaving me in its relatively calm wake I ran along the path just enough light remaining of the day to follow the tracks I'd made on my way in the rifle was Heavy in my grip but I didn't dare lose my only defense when that howling Screech echoed through the trees behind me I redoubled my speed praying that it wouldn't be able to find me before I'd reached Maggie the frigid air burned my lungs and my throat was raw by the time I reached the snow covered Landing Strip I almost cried with joy at the sight of my bright yellow Maggie waiting patiently for my return I reached the cargo hatch and swung it open throwing myself inside and pulling it shut behind me just as another of those haunting whales reached my ears closer this time much closer I didn't dare look out the windows as I threw off my pack and rifle and climbed back into the pilot seat I buckled up my my harness and my hands danced over the controls the startup procedure second nature Battery Master on fuel selector to Center mixture lever forward fuel oil shut off lever down a resounding high pitched howl penetrated the cabin and something black moved outside rushing from window to window door to door searching he was here now trying to find a way inside concentrate throttle at 10% fuel pressure pumped to 5 PSI engine primed I froze my windshield had suddenly gone completely black shrouding me in darkness even though I couldn't see anything in that featureless void just a foot away from my face I could feel its desperation I felt its sightless gaze and below that some dark malice an inhuman and alien hunger I pressed the starter switch and the 9 cylinder radial engine started turning over slowly at first lagered and sluggish my blood chilled as I realized that it wasn't catching wasn't starting my thoughts flew back to the engine problems I'd experienced before my emergency landing and in that moment I was certain my luck had finally run out but then a backfire then another and then a third coughing black puff of smoke from the exhaust and then it and that big beautiful Pratt and Whitney radial took over the loud drone Rising smooth and steady as Maggie woke from her Slumber I pushed the throttle forward inertia pressing me into my seat I no longer cared about the engine misfires or the storm a fiery death in the trees was preferable to whatever that thing had in store for me I was sure of that the snow was deep and even with the big Tundra tires I had to work to keep from nosing over as I began to gain speed at some point the Black Mass disappeared from my windscreen and I was greeted with the Glorious sight of an open path before me with the passing of the Stormfront the wind had shifted directions and I was into a headwind now perfect for my needs I pushed the throttle to full and pulled back gently on the Yoke I felt the wheels leave the ground now free from the snow's drag and continued my climb until I was above the trees and gently banking towards the south towards home as I passed over the landing STP I thought I could just make out of black shape on the ground below stretching and snaking along after me in a feudal Pursuit before I lost it in the trees the engine Miss returned after another 10 minutes of flying but Maggie carried me back to safety she always took care of me 40 minutes later I was back on the ground in Fairbanks and taxiing for the hanger stopped the bush plane just outside I shut her down unbuckled myself and carefully climbed down to the runway where my body fought with itself for which was going to happen first the puking or the passing out at this point I'd happily suffer either Mike Nichols came jogging out of the hanger after hearing my Approach and helped steady me Jesus hoop you gave us all a scare he smiled amiably my must have been a hell of a flight you look like you saw a ghost man I could only nod and stumble my way towards the warmth of the hanger grateful for his shoulder to brace myself against just before we reached the service door he paused and looked back at Maggie Buck told me he had some engine problems but he didn't say anything about a fire I framed and shook my head no fire I lost some cylinders he stood stood there a moment longer an odd expression on his face before opening the door and ushering me inside weird I thought I saw some black smoke coming from under the engine cow right after you shut her down hello to all you horror lovers out there tonight's story was written by The Talented Dark Knight tals who also has a creepy pive narration Channel he narrates Works written by himself and others and you might recognize a couple of my stories up there as well check out the description below or search for Dark Knight Tales on YouTube and let them know Jordan group horror sent you thanks everybody become a channel member today for Early Access bonus videos and special emojis only available to members check out the description below or click the join button for more info if you'd like another way to help support the Channel please consider joining my patreon page at patreon .
/ jordanr horror as a patron you'll get access to bonus videos and content you'll be credited at the end of every video going forward and if you decide to stay for 3 months I'll name a character after you which will be featured in a hollow's end story links to join the patreon are in the description thanks everyone for listening please like subscribe and comment to help the channel continue to grow and see you again next time at 4 p. m.
