The Atlantic Pyramid by Michelle Lowe
Amazon http://amzn.to/1jVMCnX
Blurb: The flight started out as usual for flight instructor, Heath Sharp, and his student, Gavin Cole, until a sudden storm forces them to crash into the Atlantic Ocean. Heath awakens to find Gavin dead and his plane stuck in the middle of a historical junkyard. The Bermuda Triangle has claimed hundreds of ships and planes over the centuries and Heath has accidentally happened upon them. Set in the center of the junkyard is an island inhabited by nearly every pilot, sailor, and passenger of those lost transporters, still alive and unchanged. The island is the centerpiece of one of the world’s greatest mysteries and there is no escape for anyone caught in its web. Yet Heath refuses to believe this foggy, dark place will become his last destination and searches for the greatest unfound treasure of all: a way out.
Excerpt
“Mayday! Mayday!” I yelled into the radio. “This is Cessna 2B-Golf, requesting assistance! We’ve run into a squall!”
The plane shook violently in the winds. The windshield wipers couldn’t push away the sheets of rain fast enough. I looked over at the map on the display screen. “Our coordinates are—”
I stopped myself when I noticed our location. The map had to be wrong. “Wait, how did we fly twenty miles past Nassau?”
Both screens turned to snow as a constant beeping came from the stall warning indicator.
“Shit!” I yelled as static came over the radio. “Steve, are you there? Mayday!” I waited for a response but got none. “We’ve lost communications!”
“We’re stalling,” Gavin shouted, pointing to a red light. “Oh, my God, we’re gonna crash!”
“Shut up!” I barked. “I’ll get us out of this.”
I gripped the control stick and pulled back, lifting the nose while using full throttle to build up speed. “What’s wrong with the screens?” he asked. “Oh God, what’s happening with the instruments?”
I did my best to steady the jerking plane. The entire backup system went haywire. The compass,
speedometer, airspeed indicator, and altimeter spun wildly. All around us, the sky had turned nearly pitch black, while the rain pounded so hard it was as if we were flying through a waterfall.
I couldn’t understand it. One second, we were flying through crisp open skies with Miami at our backs, the next, I was fighting to get out of a storm that had literally dropped down on us. I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t know how high we were or if the plane was even level. All the instruments either beeped or flashed. Both dials on the altimeter went in different directions and the compass spun so fast I couldn’t make out the letters.
“Get us outta here, dude!” Gavin shouted, clutching anything he could as another gust pounded the plane.
I white-knuckled the wheel and stomped on the left pedal, trying to turn the plane and head back the way we’d come. My body pressed against the door as the aircraft made a sharp change in direction. It was dangerous going against the wind, like a surfer going against a big wave. The storm was like a playground bully and the plane a geeky kid taking one pulverizing blow after another. I couldn’t tell which direction the wind came from. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, giving me no sense of whether I had done the right thing or not.
I gritted my teeth as the wheel violently shook in my sweat-drenched hands. When the plane turned, a rush of calm washed over me. If I could overcome the wind and circle around, there was a chance we might pull out of the storm.
Then the engine died. Darkness shadowed the inside of the cockpit as both screens went blank. The control panel lights shut off. The buzzing of the propellers went silent when the blades stopped.
“Jesus!” Gavin cried. “What happened?”
“We just lost power.”
The plane shook violently in the winds. The windshield wipers couldn’t push away the sheets of rain fast enough. I looked over at the map on the display screen. “Our coordinates are—”
I stopped myself when I noticed our location. The map had to be wrong. “Wait, how did we fly twenty miles past Nassau?”
Both screens turned to snow as a constant beeping came from the stall warning indicator.
“Shit!” I yelled as static came over the radio. “Steve, are you there? Mayday!” I waited for a response but got none. “We’ve lost communications!”
“We’re stalling,” Gavin shouted, pointing to a red light. “Oh, my God, we’re gonna crash!”
“Shut up!” I barked. “I’ll get us out of this.”
I gripped the control stick and pulled back, lifting the nose while using full throttle to build up speed. “What’s wrong with the screens?” he asked. “Oh God, what’s happening with the instruments?”
I did my best to steady the jerking plane. The entire backup system went haywire. The compass,
speedometer, airspeed indicator, and altimeter spun wildly. All around us, the sky had turned nearly pitch black, while the rain pounded so hard it was as if we were flying through a waterfall.
I couldn’t understand it. One second, we were flying through crisp open skies with Miami at our backs, the next, I was fighting to get out of a storm that had literally dropped down on us. I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t know how high we were or if the plane was even level. All the instruments either beeped or flashed. Both dials on the altimeter went in different directions and the compass spun so fast I couldn’t make out the letters.
“Get us outta here, dude!” Gavin shouted, clutching anything he could as another gust pounded the plane.
I white-knuckled the wheel and stomped on the left pedal, trying to turn the plane and head back the way we’d come. My body pressed against the door as the aircraft made a sharp change in direction. It was dangerous going against the wind, like a surfer going against a big wave. The storm was like a playground bully and the plane a geeky kid taking one pulverizing blow after another. I couldn’t tell which direction the wind came from. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, giving me no sense of whether I had done the right thing or not.
I gritted my teeth as the wheel violently shook in my sweat-drenched hands. When the plane turned, a rush of calm washed over me. If I could overcome the wind and circle around, there was a chance we might pull out of the storm.
Then the engine died. Darkness shadowed the inside of the cockpit as both screens went blank. The control panel lights shut off. The buzzing of the propellers went silent when the blades stopped.
“Jesus!” Gavin cried. “What happened?”
“We just lost power.”
Bio
I’m the author of The Warning, Atlantic Pyramid, Cherished Thief, Poe’s Haunted House Tour, and the three part fantasy/adventure children’s series, The Hex Hunt. In 1998, I decided to start my lifelong journey into the realm of storytelling and I have yet to cease crafting stories since. Right now I’m busy working on a psychological thriller novella, Storyteller, as well an untitled steampunk fantasy/adventure. Currently, I live in Irvine, California with husband Ben and daughters, Mia and Kirsten.
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Amazon Author page http://amzn.to/1voQJk2
Michelle Lowe is a Beau Coup Author
Hi everyone! My name is Michelle Lowe, author of Atlantic Pyramid. I thought I pop in and say hello. If anyone has questions or just want to chat, I'd love to hear from you. :)
ReplyDeleteGreat sounding book!!
ReplyDeleteSuspenseful excerpt
ReplyDelete