So It Begins

Posted on Fri Jun 13th, 2025 @ 9:04pm by New York Survivor Steffan Wolff

951 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Escape from the Concrete Grave
Location: New York
Timeline: 6th September, 2010

Steffan coughed slightly as he regained consciousness. His head hurt as his vision was blurry. It took him a few seconds to remember what had happened and where he was. ’Of course. He thought to himself as the helicopter crash came flooding back to him. Probably the scariest thing he’d ever witnessed and survived, it seemed.

He blinked a couple of times to help clear his vision a bit more and survey his surroundings. He was still strapped into his seat but his arms and legs were dangling as the helicopter seemed to be on its side. He tried to bring his right arm up to rub his sore eyes but as soon as he moved it it shot pain through his body. Focusing on the arm he saw it didn't look right much less feel right. If he had to hazard a guess, it was broken.

“Scheiße.” He muttered under his breath.

His eyes focused more on his surroundings and he started to see the others that were in the helicopter with him. Either still strapped into their seats but very much dead from the angle of their heads and mashed bodies. He located the body of his aide, Boden, the young man’s broken body was laying in front of where Steffan was hanging. It looked like his restraints had failed and his body was just tossed about like a rag doll. He closed his eyes and thought of his wife and young son at home. His thoughts quickly turned to his own children. A tear rolled from his eye down his nose to the tip before finally dropping. He took a deep breath to focus himself before opening his eyes again.

Steffan’s first task was to release himself from hanging in his seat. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to do it with a broken arm and his weight being held by the safety harness. He took a couple of deep breaths before using his left hand to hit the quick release.

He dropped quickly but managed to avoid landing on his right arm and landed with a grunt. He slowly pulled himself up and gaged where to get out. The cockpit was missing so that seemed the logical place to get out. He respectfully stepped over the broken bones and climbed out of the wreckage. He took a few steps forward before turning to inspect the helicopter.

It was on its side, all the blades from the top engine had been snapped off, presumably when the body rolled. The tail had broken off and was laying a few metres away and the cockpit was still mostly intact but had been separated from the body and was a few metres away in the other direction.

He slowly walked over to the cockpit to see if there was a slim chance that the pilot, a young American named Danny, had survived. As he moved to the front of the cockpit, he saw Danny with a large shard of glass poking out of his eye. The windshield must have broken on impact and sent the shard through his eye and into his head. ’At least he had a quick death. Steffan thought to himself as he nursed his right arm. He noticed the pilot’s sidearm in its pouch on his hip, he glanced around. The area was dead, not a soul in sight, but he’d heard the reports of crazy people attacking and killing others due to some sort of outbreak. He hadn’t seen anything personally but he wasn’t going to take any chances. Wolff walked round to the back of the cockpit, electrics were still sparking and fizzing. He slowly reached in and opened the pouch on the pilots belt with a few clips of ammunition, which he stuffed into his trouser pocket. He then reached in and grabbed the gun. He had no idea how to work one but it was best to have rather than try and fend for himself without some sort of protection.

Steffan noticed a first aid kit on the floor near the wreckage, presumably thrown out during the crash. He used it to clean the wound on his head and make a sling for his arm. He used the eye flush water bottle to swallow some pain killers. He was ready to continue his journey towards New York City and get home to his children.

A road sign pointed him in the direction of the city so he started walking in that direction.

Dusk

The sun was starting to set. After walking most of the day, Steffan neared New York City. He could hear noise ahead, planes, helicopters, large vehicles. He smiled as he picked up his pace to a slow jog.

Suddenly, a loud explosion made him jump and wince in pain. He picked up the pace, desperate to find out what was going on. Another loud explosion sounded as he reached the bank of the river Hudson. It looked like the bridges over to New York City were being destroyed one by one. Overhead, the rumble of low aircraft started getting louder. Looking up, he saw three US air force planes heading for the city. ’What the hell is going on? He thought just before planes started dropping bombs which lit up the sky and bright bursts of fire which lit New York City up. Steffan dropped to his knees as he watched this brutal carnage unfold before him. Tears began to stream down his face as all he could think about was how he was going to get home to his children….

 

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