The Dark Days: 15092
Now so far behind that I'm sort of giving a cease fire to the story right now to recharge the batteries, but I'm not out by any means.
10/31/2007/2355Z - YYZ to YWG - AC 144
“Attention passengers, this is the cabin crew speaking, we've turned on the fasten seatbelt signs and request that you return your seats. We also at this time request that you return your seats to their upright positions and return your tray tables into their upright and locked positions in preparation for landing.” The speakers aboard the darkened aircraft spoke calmly in soothing English to a hushed barely conscious, then repeated the announcement in French. Inside the cockpit was a different story.
“Air Canada One-Four-Four, turn right to zero-one-eight to enter glide slope two. You're number one on approach.” The tinny voice over the radio crackled over the radio on the dimly lit Airbus A320. To the pilots, Mike Trenton and co-pilot Anthony Merrick, it was one more annoyance on the last leg of the redeye from Halifax to Winnipeg with a stopover in Toronto. Outside the cockpit, an early winter storm brewed frosting over the glass and cutting visibility to nil.
“Roger that Tower, this is One-Four-Four, turning right to Zero-One-Eight, signaling outer marker and lock on ILS glide slope two.” The copilot keyed into his headset before sighing deeply.
“Christ this is shit weather to fly in.” Trenton murmured as he gripped the joystick and checked the screens.
“Yeah, you'd think that we coulda lucked out and gotten anything but snow for the layover.” The captain replied, pointing out the glass at the storm blowing in from the north.
“I can just see it now, we're gonna have a helluva time deicing tomorrow.”
“Hell, it’s Winnipeg, they're used to this shit all months of the year.” Merrick chuckled.
“You’re probably right. ILS glide slope is in the green.” Trenton shrugged and adjusted the cabin lighting.
“Flaps.”
“Flaps.”
“Air Canada One-Four-Four Heavy, you are clear to land on Zero-One-Eight-Right, wind is currently One-Four-Four at twenty one knots. We have a warning, visibility is currently zero one zero feet.” Their headsets crackled with static, quickly drowned out by the whine of the twin jet turbines behind them.
“Roger that control, now on final instruments only approach.” Trenton responded into the headset, his copilot toggling switches and set the speed of the descent on the throttles.
“Let’s speed this thing up, knowing the Tower, they’ll only have one taxiway cleared and I don’t want to be sitting behind that fucking Boeing.” Merrick pointed to the blinking radar screen that showed a 767 that had landed only moments before on the other runway.
“Alright, we’ve got plenty of room on the tarmac. Control, requesting lights set to full.” Trenton piped in over the radio frequency as strained his eyes to try and see the runway before him. A whirring thunk murmured beneath their feat as the landing gear extended as his eyes flickered back and forth from the screens in the cockpit to the snow outside. The two pilots grimaced as they pushed the throttles further forwards, hurtling the aircraft towards the runway faster than was scheduled for. Unexpectedly, the only response the Airbus got was the crackle and hiss of static.
“Control?” he tried again, voice nervous as the altimeter chimed, the gauge dropping lower and lower.
“Maybe we should throttle back? The lights should be right ahead!” the pilot spat out, scanning his instrument panels to tell him where the earth should start and the air should end. By the time the audible alarms began to sound, a flash blinded both pilots and the cockpit was aglow with a burning bright red light, blinding the two men.
“What the hell was that?” the co-pilot next to him cried out as he grabbed the throttles and yanked them back, the instrumentation in the cockpit buzzing like mad.
“An explosion! Over on the right!” Trenton responded as the backup guidance system kicked in and began whooping and buzzing.
“Where’d ILS go?” Merrick flicked switches on monitors that were responding like the world had flipped upside down.
“To hell with the ILS, where’d the tower go?” Merrick pointed out the window to the flaming wreckage where the control tower once stood.
“Oh god! Power up! POWER UP!” Trenton screamed, slamming the throttles forward as the radar altimeter registered nil.
“This is Air Canada One-Four-Four Heavy declaring an emergency, ILS is down, we are making a failed approach, say ag-“ Merrick’s voice shook, both knew that as the ground came up to meet them that it was too late. Both men wrestled with the controls as the sirens and the klaxons were drowned out by the rising power of the engines as they tried to gain enough altitude to try and land the aircraft again. But gravity won the fight, and the aircraft was flying too fast and too low to attempt to abort the landing. The last thing the pilots heard before the bone chilling sound of shearing metal on snow-covered asphalt was the quiet din of the emotionless voice of the instrumentation whooping audibly and pointing out a negative altitude.
At first the Airbus landed hard on its tires, causing them to burst like over-inflated balloons on the pavement. Then the airframe came down hard on the landing gear, snapping the landing struts like twigs and causing the entire airframe to spin off the runway, digging one wing into the snow-packed ground and flinging the giant aircraft spiraling through the midnight sky. Before the aircraft smashed again into the ground, an explosion ripped through the underbelly of the aircraft, igniting the freshly punctured jet fuel tanks in the wings in a virtual inferno that sparked off numerous other explosions. When the aircraft hit the hard frozen ground again, the white-painted fuselage rolled a hundred or more feet, snapping its wings off and coming to rest in a ditch. In a violent after-shock, the oxygen scrubbers detonated, instantly incinerating cargo and causing a flashfire that seared the pressurized cabin into a funeral pyre. For the hundred and fifty passengers and crew on board the doomed flight, none would survive to visit their families or go to work the next day. These were the first victims in the cataclysm, but in the winter-swept city of Winnipeg, these were not to be the last.
10/31/2007/2355Z - YYZ to YWG - AC 144
“Attention passengers, this is the cabin crew speaking, we've turned on the fasten seatbelt signs and request that you return your seats. We also at this time request that you return your seats to their upright positions and return your tray tables into their upright and locked positions in preparation for landing.” The speakers aboard the darkened aircraft spoke calmly in soothing English to a hushed barely conscious, then repeated the announcement in French. Inside the cockpit was a different story.
“Air Canada One-Four-Four, turn right to zero-one-eight to enter glide slope two. You're number one on approach.” The tinny voice over the radio crackled over the radio on the dimly lit Airbus A320. To the pilots, Mike Trenton and co-pilot Anthony Merrick, it was one more annoyance on the last leg of the redeye from Halifax to Winnipeg with a stopover in Toronto. Outside the cockpit, an early winter storm brewed frosting over the glass and cutting visibility to nil.
“Roger that Tower, this is One-Four-Four, turning right to Zero-One-Eight, signaling outer marker and lock on ILS glide slope two.” The copilot keyed into his headset before sighing deeply.
“Christ this is shit weather to fly in.” Trenton murmured as he gripped the joystick and checked the screens.
“Yeah, you'd think that we coulda lucked out and gotten anything but snow for the layover.” The captain replied, pointing out the glass at the storm blowing in from the north.
“I can just see it now, we're gonna have a helluva time deicing tomorrow.”
“Hell, it’s Winnipeg, they're used to this shit all months of the year.” Merrick chuckled.
“You’re probably right. ILS glide slope is in the green.” Trenton shrugged and adjusted the cabin lighting.
“Flaps.”
“Flaps.”
“Air Canada One-Four-Four Heavy, you are clear to land on Zero-One-Eight-Right, wind is currently One-Four-Four at twenty one knots. We have a warning, visibility is currently zero one zero feet.” Their headsets crackled with static, quickly drowned out by the whine of the twin jet turbines behind them.
“Roger that control, now on final instruments only approach.” Trenton responded into the headset, his copilot toggling switches and set the speed of the descent on the throttles.
“Let’s speed this thing up, knowing the Tower, they’ll only have one taxiway cleared and I don’t want to be sitting behind that fucking Boeing.” Merrick pointed to the blinking radar screen that showed a 767 that had landed only moments before on the other runway.
“Alright, we’ve got plenty of room on the tarmac. Control, requesting lights set to full.” Trenton piped in over the radio frequency as strained his eyes to try and see the runway before him. A whirring thunk murmured beneath their feat as the landing gear extended as his eyes flickered back and forth from the screens in the cockpit to the snow outside. The two pilots grimaced as they pushed the throttles further forwards, hurtling the aircraft towards the runway faster than was scheduled for. Unexpectedly, the only response the Airbus got was the crackle and hiss of static.
“Control?” he tried again, voice nervous as the altimeter chimed, the gauge dropping lower and lower.
“Maybe we should throttle back? The lights should be right ahead!” the pilot spat out, scanning his instrument panels to tell him where the earth should start and the air should end. By the time the audible alarms began to sound, a flash blinded both pilots and the cockpit was aglow with a burning bright red light, blinding the two men.
“What the hell was that?” the co-pilot next to him cried out as he grabbed the throttles and yanked them back, the instrumentation in the cockpit buzzing like mad.
“An explosion! Over on the right!” Trenton responded as the backup guidance system kicked in and began whooping and buzzing.
“Where’d ILS go?” Merrick flicked switches on monitors that were responding like the world had flipped upside down.
“To hell with the ILS, where’d the tower go?” Merrick pointed out the window to the flaming wreckage where the control tower once stood.
“Oh god! Power up! POWER UP!” Trenton screamed, slamming the throttles forward as the radar altimeter registered nil.
“This is Air Canada One-Four-Four Heavy declaring an emergency, ILS is down, we are making a failed approach, say ag-“ Merrick’s voice shook, both knew that as the ground came up to meet them that it was too late. Both men wrestled with the controls as the sirens and the klaxons were drowned out by the rising power of the engines as they tried to gain enough altitude to try and land the aircraft again. But gravity won the fight, and the aircraft was flying too fast and too low to attempt to abort the landing. The last thing the pilots heard before the bone chilling sound of shearing metal on snow-covered asphalt was the quiet din of the emotionless voice of the instrumentation whooping audibly and pointing out a negative altitude.
At first the Airbus landed hard on its tires, causing them to burst like over-inflated balloons on the pavement. Then the airframe came down hard on the landing gear, snapping the landing struts like twigs and causing the entire airframe to spin off the runway, digging one wing into the snow-packed ground and flinging the giant aircraft spiraling through the midnight sky. Before the aircraft smashed again into the ground, an explosion ripped through the underbelly of the aircraft, igniting the freshly punctured jet fuel tanks in the wings in a virtual inferno that sparked off numerous other explosions. When the aircraft hit the hard frozen ground again, the white-painted fuselage rolled a hundred or more feet, snapping its wings off and coming to rest in a ditch. In a violent after-shock, the oxygen scrubbers detonated, instantly incinerating cargo and causing a flashfire that seared the pressurized cabin into a funeral pyre. For the hundred and fifty passengers and crew on board the doomed flight, none would survive to visit their families or go to work the next day. These were the first victims in the cataclysm, but in the winter-swept city of Winnipeg, these were not to be the last.