We were lined up to go down the slide when people started screaming about wolves attacking one of the other doors. My sister grabbed my hand and looked just about ready to bolt through an aisle completely blocked with people. No attack came and after a few minutes we were told to return to our seats and await further instructions.

After some time a soldier came passed and asked my sister Bongani if she had any useful skills or gear. I mentioned I was competing in an archery competition and had a bow and arrows in the hold. He looked annoyed. I guess fifteen is too young to hunt wolves. Bongani reinforced that fact when she told me to stop being ridiculous and let the professionals handle things.

An hour later my phone died. It was my uncle’s old phone and the battery goes flat very quickly. And to my chagrin the charging port attached to the seat had stopped working. I started fidgeting in my seat. The therapists at my school told me I had ADHD and said I must go to a doctor to get medication. But when I tried it I developed horrible anxiety so I had to stop. I still managed ok at school. They gave me extra time to complete assignments and tests but I usually didn’t need it. If I was doing work that was engaging I had no trouble paying attention. It was only when I was bored or tired that I needed the extra help.

But it did mean that being stuck in a cramped chair with nothing to do made me very restless When my sister told me to stop fidgeting I decided to slip out of my seat and head towards the back of the plane. She called after me to come back. But an argument in the future was preferable to going crazy in the present.

As I was going down the aisle I accidentally brushed passed an older white man coming from the bathroom. I could just barely hear him mutter “bloody kaffirs” a few moments later. I was a bit shocked. I knew racists still existed. But it wasn’t often they’d be blatant enough to do it in public. I didn’t want to cause a scene; so I just walked away as quickly as possible. Maybe a dozen rows further down the plane I saw a group of white kids my age.

It looked like they were playing some sort of dice game. I went up to one boy and said “Hello.” He gave a bit of a start before turning around. I was about to apologise when he said “Hi. I’m Jason.” He had an English accent. He then introduced the others. They were Thomas, Mellissa, Jamie, Jeremy, Sara, Eric, Sian and Rob.

“I’m Xola, what are you playing.”

“Pathfinder,” he said

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s similar to Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Oh. There is a dnd group at my school. But I was too busy to join. Can I play?”

“It’s a bit hard to explain. Sorry I’m being a bit of cunt right now. One of our teachers just got carried off by a doctor and I think the other one is sozzled. We’re just trying to keep busy.” His voice.

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll come back another time.” I started to walk away.

“No. No. You can watch. But making a new character takes a long time. I hope you don’t mind.”

“That will be fine.”

Melissa, a short, overweight girl with shoulder length black hair, sat in a back row with Sara, a tiny redhead, and Eric, tall and scrawny with messy black hair, in the seats beside her beside her. Jason was one row forward by the aisle next to me. Next to him were Jeremy and Thomas. Sian, Jamie and their teacher sat in the row behind her.

They each had dice, paper and other paraphernalia on the trays in front of their seats and they were all, except the teacher, craning their heads over their seats to look towards Melissa.

Melissa intoned, “Marbit, the lich1 points his bony finger at you. A pitch black ray shoots out from the tip. It seems to disintegrate the very light itself as it passes through space. Make fortitude save.”

Eric then whined, “Isn’t disintegration supposed to be green?”

She replied, “Bloody hell. Who gives a shit? Go cast disintegrate on one of those trees outside. If the ray is green I’ll give you five quid. Otherwise shut up and make the save. ”

“I rolled a natural one. Shite.”

She rolled a massive handful of dice on the in flight meal tray and counted up the results.

“You take fifty two damage.”

After maybe another half hour of play an older Indian man in a turban walked up towards my new friends. “I am sorry,” he said with a frown, “but your teacher, Mrs. Villiers I believe her name was, has unfortunately passed way. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to ask.” They all looked shocked.

“How did she die?” Melissa asked.

Their teacher stood up and said, “Please let the adults speak in private.” He was slurring his words and his eyes were red. I didn’t think a teacher would be allowed to order alcohol on a school trip; but I knew an alchie when I saw one. He tried to climb over Sian and fell face first into the aisle. He stood up, his face red, and went with the doctor to a clear space next to the restrooms.

At that point another British gentleman in a suit came into the cabin and asked if anyone had experience with rock climbing or anything similar. Two of them, Sian and Eric, stood up. No one else did. The man then asked again if any were over eighteen. He seemed disappointed. After some time he said his name was Phillip and he asked them to come to the front of the plane to try help rig a rope to get into the cargo hold of the plane.

At that point the teacher, who the other kids called Mr. Thomson, rushed back towards us with a scowl on his face.

“What are you doing with my kids?”

“And you are?” Phillip replied.

“Their teacher and guardian on this trip.” Mr. Thomson took the flask from his belt and took a big gulp.

“I see. And do teachers at your school normally smuggle contraband across international borders?”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“I can smell the gin on your breath. That flask should not have been allowed passed airport security.”

“I brought it in filled with sprite. The gin was bought legally on the plane.”

“Is that so? I still don’t believe you can responsibly care for these children in your current condition.”

Mr. Thomson puffed himself up and looked like he was going to throw a punch. And then suddenly he shook his head and sighed. “This is a proper ballsup. I was sober for five years until me missus went and left me on Wednesday. It was too late to get a ….” He started crying.

Phillip looked on sadly and then said, “The children will be looked after with the other unaccompanied minors on board. Let’s go get you sobered up.”

I then asked, “I’m not with the school group. My sister is with me and she’s eighteen. But I can help if you need it. “As long as your sister is fine with it. She’s your guardian at the moment.”

When I spoke to her she wasn’t keen on me leaving for so long. But I annoyed her enough to tell me to fuck off. Which was a win in my book.

Two other kids were waiting for us in first class. A ten year old boy named Jonathan whose parents were waiting for him in New York and a nine year old boy named Sipho who said he had been sponsored to go to some sort of chess event. His auntie was lying further down in first class where the rest of the injured people were. Mrs. Villiers body had already been removed and Mr. Thomson had been taken elsewhere on the plane.

Just a few rows down the aisle we could overhear an argument about the best way to scare off the wolves. A man with a handgun was speaking. “I don’t have much ammo left. My job is protect the plane from terrorists. Not wildlife. And we don’t have any other real weapons in the cabin.”

Jeremy then started speaking. “We might be able to make thermite. There’s plenty of aluminium and we should be able to find some sort of metal oxide. The only issue is getting it hot enough to set off the reaction.“ The man with the gun shot him a dirty look. “Do these kids have to be here? We can’t afford any distractions. “

“Where else are we supposed to keep the children? The overhead bins?” Phillip asked.

Phillip looked towards Jeremy. “I think thermite is something we can look into,” Phillip replied dryly. “But you’re here to help with the ropes and harnesses. We’re looking into Molotov cocktails. But that’s not something you need to worry about. Corporal Meacham will show you how to slice the blankets, weave them into rope and splice them neatly.”

A slurred voice spoke up from one of the sick beds, “they’re not normal wolves. They’re too aggressive. And they’re coated in ice. I don’t know if fire will scare them off.”

Phillip looked over. “Nice to see you’re awake, son. What’s your name?”

“Simon Leclerc,” he groaned. He sounded like he was in serious pain.

“I’m Phillip Reynolds. It looks like I’ve been drafted to lead this mess. You were quite brave out there. If you have anything to add I’m all ears.”

Melissa then interrupted, “if they’re frost wolves they might have a weakness to fire. Molotov cocktails might work. Jet fuel might work better than alcohol, though.”

Phillip laughed. “You’re thinking in the right direction. Alcohol based Molotovs are almost useless. The fireball actually comes from fumes being ignited. Not the liquid itself. Still, we need to siphon the fuel from the tank before it can be of any use. “

At that point it was my turn to interrupt, “my hobby is archery. But I have competed in shot put. I might not be able to hit a wolf. But I can get close.”

Phillip then finished off with a smile, “I’m sure we can find some cricket and baseball pitchers as well. We won’t have the full arsenal unless we can scare of the wolves long enough to work at ground level; but I’m sure they won’t be happy getting hit by whatever we can scrounge up in the meantime.”

It is an interesting phenomenon that entities from our world appear in games and stories from theirs. I hypothesise this isn’t the first contact between us. Hopefully once the search through the library records is complete we will have more evidence supporting this.