Cotton Bear's Castle - Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

A quick stop at Ben’s place to gather some cloths and supplies allowed them some time to get a plan in order.

“Are you sure you are ready for this Ben?” Cotton Bear asked.

“I was born ready Cotton,” Ben replied with a smile on his face as he put his trusty whip and ever ready gun and holster into his travel bag. “Plus you know how prepared I can get.”

They made their way to the airport and with the assistance of Cotton’s considerable connections, were able to secure a charter plane to fly them to Europe, to Germany, to the Black Forest.

It started out as an uneventful flight, as most do, one which allowed both Ben and Cotton Bear to grab a little, but not much needed sleep. As the trip went its way little happened until they had crossed over into the air above Germany. A sudden jerk of the plane gave the idea that they had come into some turbulence. Ben awoke from his sleep to look out at the now early morning sunrise.

“Did we run into some more bad weather Ben?” Cotton asked, rubbing his eyes as he also awoke. “The stuff seems to follow us around like trouble.”

“No, it looks mostly calm out there.” Ben answered back. “I wonder if it was just a warm pocket of air as we seem to be flying smooth again.”

No sooner had Ben uttered those words when the plane made a violent jerk to the left and a sudden drop. Even with their seat belts still on, Ben and Cotton were thrown about quite a lot. Determined to find out what could be the problem Ben unhooked his seat belt and bravely made his way to the cockpit to ask the pilots what could be the problem.

Taking no more then 6 or 7 steps Ben found himself thrown backwards as the plane, without warning, dove downward at a steep angle. Recovering, Ben quickly moved once again towards the cockpit. After some incredible footwork and a whole lot of holding on, Ben made it to the cockpit’s door. Pounding on it, he yelled at the pilots to open up but there was no response. Fortunately the door was unlocked and Ben opened it to receive a shock. The two pilots were indeed sitting at the controls of the plane, but they were not in control. As Ben approached them he could tell they were in a hypnotic state, flying zombies, completely unable to make decisions on their own. Their movement controlled by someone else and Ben knew who that someone else was.

Attempting to wrestle the plane’s steering controls from the pilots, proved to be useless, Ben found out as he struggled with them for a brief moment. At this rate of descent, they didn’t have much time to get to safety if they could in fact get to safety.

Ben made it back to Cotton as fast as he could. “Quick, let’s see if there are any parachutes on board.” Ben now shouted over the scream of the plane’s engines. “We have only a few seconds before the plane will reach a speed that we can’t escape from.”

Cotton Bear, to his best ability, moved to the rear of the plane in search of anything that might be a parachute or work as one. Ben threw open as many cabinets and cubby-holes as he could, but no parachutes were to be found.
Cotton Bear came stumbling back to Ben with a worried look on his face.

“I couldn’t find anything on board that looked like a parachute. As a matter of fact the plane is quite empty.”

Very concerned, Ben thought hard but realized that all avenues of escape had vanished. His lucky number had expired as he turned to look at Cotton Bear. They both seemed to move as if in slow motion as the ground grew nearer quickly.

Throwing out his hand to Cotton Bear, Ben shouted, ”My friend, it was a good ride. I’m proud to have known you.”

Cotton Bear grasped Ben’s hand and said, “And you too, my friend. Our adventures were always the greatest moments in my life.”

Then as the engines screamed to their breaking point, they burst into fire. The plane tipped to the left a bit as it descended the last few hundred feet. Cotton Bear and Ben got into their seats and fastened their seat belts.

“Just in case!” Ben shouted to Cotton Bear.

It was at that moment the plane hit the tops of the trees on the downward slope of Mount Feldberg. The plane tore through the trees like a warm knife though butter. Ben and Cotton Bear braced for the worse. Bit by bit the plane’s speed decreased as it took out more and more trees. The steep slope of the mountain was effective in slowing the plane down but at the rate it was travelling, it would soon run out of mountain.

Then the wings were sliced off by several large trees. The main body of the plane continued on its journey as it now bounced on the mountain ground. Spinning over and over, the plane continued smashing into trees, bouncing down the mountain. Ben and Cotton Bear were spun upside down many times as the plane hit the many trees. Slowly the plane decreased its speed as it hit more trees. Ben began to worry the plane was going to be ripped apart by all the pounding it was taking. The back section of the plane ripped off as it bounced off yet another big tree. Only one third of the plane remained, thankfully Ben and Cotton Bear were in that section.

The dirt was thrown from the underside of the plane as it continued its slide down the mountain. Part of the roof of the plane sheared off, exposing Ben and Cotton Bear to the open sunshine. Then as luck would have it the forest opened up to a clearing of tall grass and wet moss. With a fierce splash the plane came to a halt. Ben and Cotton Bear found themselves almost upside down due to the plane twisting at the last moment. Looking down at the wet ground below them Ben laughed out, “First one to kiss the ground is a rotten egg.”

They both laughed as they unhooked their seat belts and fell several feet into the wet, soft ground. Cotton Bear was especially happy as he pulled off his shoulder bag and showed Ben that he still had the dagger.

“I think now would be a good time to put that thing to use” said Ben. Cotton Bear agreed and added, “So where are we and how far is it to Voltran’s lair?”

“Not sure where we are Cotton,” Ben replied. “But one might think this crash will bring someone looking for survivors and if we are anywhere near Voltran’s lair, then those who find us should not be trusted. I have a feeling we are close, very close.”

Cotton Bear nodded and together they set out away from the crash. Ben hoped the remote nature of the crash would give them some extra time to hide away and scope out their surroundings. Ben had made one last scout of the remains of the plane and as luck would have it; his travel bag was lodged in one of the few remaining seats left on the plane.

Armed with his trusty whip and gun, Ben threw on his leather jacket, straightened his hat and headed out.

end of chapter eleven