Jack Easterly and the Island of Depravity
MF, md
Dr. Hayanishi's evil machine threatens to drag down the United States of America into a wanton swamp of lust, and only atomic chemist Jack Easterly can save his country.
Chapter 3: In which our Hero (with some help from his girl Friday) discovers the evil machinations of Dr. Hayanishi.
The plane trembled as it plunged toward the ocean, as if the machine itself feared its fate. Jack Easterly braced himself in the navigator's seat, staring at the other two occupants of the cabin. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog of painkillers. If he didn't act quickly, everyone aboard was doomed.
The pilot spread limply across the flight controls, covered in his own blood. A naked woman straddled his crotch, her ebony skin gleaning with sweat. Her own hands smeared with the pilot's blood across her breasts where she fondled herself. Jack could hear the slap of their bodies over the rush of wind outside as the she screwed the unconscious pilot with frantic jerks of her pelvis.
"Hey!" Jack's yell produced no response.
There was no time for questions now, he realized. Grabbing her arm, Jack tried to pull her off the pilot. She was surprisingly strong, though, and yanked her arm back to squeeze her breasts, as if she hadn't even noticed him. Now what?
Jack thought furiously. Maybe his plan was happening faster than expected. Time to improvise.
If only he had a drink, Jack wished. Just a sip, to settle his nerves.
Forcing the thirst from his mind, he used his good hand to yank down his trousers, freeing his half-erect dick.
"Hey!" He called, thrusting his hips towards the woman. He grabbed the base of his cock and waved it back and forth, staring at her bouncing breasts as he hardened.
Her eyes opened wide, and she reached for him.
"That's it, honey." Jack said, sliding backwards just enough so that she would have to move away from the controls to grab him. She paused for a moment when the pilot's cock slipped out of her, and Jack worried the plan might fail. Trying to draw her attention he lifted his hips again, making his erection bounce. The trick worked, and she pounced, taking it in her throat in a single motion.
"Aww, damn." Jack groaned as her tongue worked its magic. Her fingernails tickled his balls. "Gotta focus."
Moving slowly, with the naked woman still attached to his crotch, he pushed the pilot's body aside and slid into the pilot's seat. Strapping himself in, he thought for a moment about trying to restrain her, but there was no time for that. Trying to ignore the feeling of her warm mouth around his cock, he grabbed the controls.
Long quiescent memories came to life, the feel of the stick in his hands, the smell of machine oil and aviation fuel. Just like a bicycle, he told himself, throttling back the engine and pulling up on the stick. At first nothing happened, and Jack wondered if he was too late. Then, almost imperceptibly, the plane began to level out of its dive.
Heart in his throat, Jack watched the altimeter reading drop: fast at first, then more slowly. The plane was leveling out, but would there be enough space before it hit the ocean? Outside, something snapped off and the airframe's vibrations changed pitch, grew more irregular, but the stewardess still sucked him like nothing else in the world mattered.
He didn't know how long the bird would hold together. The moon was almost full that night; thank heaven for small blessings, he thought. By its pale light he could see a darkness rising from the ocean up ahead.
"An island..." Jack whispered. How far had they flown while they slept? He had no idea where in the vast Pacific they were.
"Crandall!" He yelled, but got no response. The aircraft was still shuddering; who knows what came loose during their uncontrolled dive. The altimeter was slower now. It was going to be close, but Jack thought they might just survive.
If only he was in his old Dauntless; he'd pull up and search for lights, but this fancy new jet-no way to know how durable it would be. It could disintegrate at any moment. No, he would have to make an emergency landing on the island.
It was coming up fast, a volcanic peak surrounded by sloping jungle. Jack scanned the edges, looking for a long beach, but the best he could see was a lagoon. He decided to set it down there, and if they didn't make it to the beach, the shallow bottom might keep part of the plane above water.
Closer and closer it came, the black surface of the ocean. Throttle down, flaps down, he spared a glance for the airbrakes and opened them. Still too fast, Jack thought. Still too much speed from the dive he couldn't shed. They were going to-
The bird's airframe rang like a bell as it hit. It slapped the water, then skipped across the top like a stone. Once, twice, spinning as it hurtled towards solid land. On the third bounce a wingtip sliced into the water, flipping the plane over to smack upside down into the water. Unrestrained, the pilot's body flew into the windscreen with a sickening crunch, hard enough to break the glass and cave in his skull. Even with a safety belt, the impact was too much for Jack, jarring his wounded arm and shocking him into unconsciousness.
When he came too, Jack felt wetness against his scalp. He found himself hanging upside down in the seat, with water coming in through the spiderweb of cracks in the windscreen.
They'd made it.
With a sudden convulsion, Jack vomited. His body shook at the memory of hurtling towards the ocean. If this island hadn't been right where we needed it... He vomited again on an empty stomach, chest heaving.
His case. There was a bottle inside. The padding should have kept it safe. Just one drink, then he could deal with the situation.
Unbuckling himself, he dropped painfully into the water alongside the dead pilot and the contents of his stomach. Mouthing a silent apology, he peered through the glass. The plane had come to rest on the lagoon's sandy bottom. The moonlight was visible through the water, but he couldn't judge how far up the surface was.
Water was still trickling in through the window. Was it coming faster now? Jack wondered. They needed to find a way out of the plane or they would all drown. Cradling his injured arm, he climbed through the cockpit door into the main cabin.
A window in the main cabin must have cracked there as well, because the floor was awash in water. The stewardess's naked body bobbed in the froth like a naked rag doll, eyes unseeing.
Jack crossed himself and looked for his case.
"Doc! What's happening?" Anna Lee freed herself and dropped with a splash. She tried to stand, then stumbled. Looking down, Jack saw her panties wrapped around her ankles. She looked at the lacy fabric and frowned.
"Anna Lee, are you okay?" He asked, suddenly remembering his own unzipped condition and stowing his equipment.
"Y-yes, I think so. What happened to the plane?" She seemed remarkably poised, he thought, not at all like a naïve country girl.
"I have a hypothesis," He said, trying to restore order to the world-or at least his thoughts-with the scientific language, "but we need to get out first."
"The others?" She asked.
"The crew is dead. Agent Crandall looks like he's still breathing." The pair splashed their way through the rising water to where he hung upside down from his seat. Working together, they lowered him to the floor. Roused by the cold water, he held his head and groaned.
"What happened?"
"Later. Right now we need to get out. The cabin door is bent shut-is there another hatch somewhere?"
"Unnh...in the back, it leads out the tail. Are we sinking?" He looked around, suddenly realizing their situation?
"No, we're on the bottom. I think that gives us a little time, but not much. Where are our bags?" Jack replied, cradling his injured arm.
"In the back. In the back." He repeated, refusing Anna Lee's proffered hand as he rose. "I'll carry them."
"We need to find a settlement." Crandall said after the trio made it to the beach. "If we can get word to the CIA station in-"
"We don't have to go to Port Morseby any more." Jack interrupted with a distracted look. He had found his black valise, and took out a silver flask.
"Port Morseby?" Anna Lee asked.
"Is now the right time for that?" Agent Crandall gave Jack a pointed look, ignoring Anna Lee's question.
Jack paused with the flask halfway to his mouth.
