The ground had a gradual slope to it. Uphill was behind me, toward the row of seats. My feet were pointing downhill. It would be easier for someone to find us if we stayed with the wreck or what's left of the wreck. If not, walking down seemed more reasonable than walking up. I looked up at the sky, or where the sky broke through the trees. I didn't have high hopes an aerial search would be effective. Maybe the rest of the plane, wherever it was, was more visible. It couldn't be too far away.

Coherent thoughts returned to me, and I fished my phone out of my pocket....