No Air

He awoke to a throbbing headache, the pressure on the back of his neck rising up like a pair of giant fingers trying to squeeze his head like a pimple. It was due to the hypoxia, he knew, his oxygen starved body objecting strenuously to its treatment. He gazed balefully over at the angrily flashing LED on the one remaining air purifier, its chronic buzz had developed a sick sounding whine that seemed to be taunting him, bleeting in counterpoint to the flashing red eye.

FLASH
Not much longer now buddy…uddy….uddy..
FLASH
You are so screwed…ewd….ewd…
FLASH
Haha sucker…ucker….ucker….
FLASH

In the flashing light of the one remaining fluorescent tube he groped round for something to throw at the damned thing, the sudden movement making him feel slightly light headed. His questing hand closed around something, which his fuddled brain eventually identified as his half crushed pack of cigarettes. Lying back on the floor he peered inside the pack, the flickering light revealing a single pristine white paper cylinder. Taking the cigarette from the pack he clumsily placed it between his lips and fumbled the lighter from his pocket and raised it towards his face. It felt like it would be the last time.

As he thumbed the flint, trying to strike a flame in the oxygen starved air, something tickled at the back of his mind, something important. He had been trying to do something when he passed out….something… The lighter clattered to the floor, cigarette falling unnoticed alongside as he sat bolt upright, his attention fixed on the ceiling, on the bright red handle of the manual release lever. He remembered now, he had been trying to move something over so he could reach it. It was risky fur sure, but it beat suffocating to death in here by a mile for sure. Glancing wildly around his gaze fell on the winking bastard air purifier, it had been torn loose of its moorings in the crash and was the perfect height to allow him to reach the switch. He crawled over to it, black spots dancing across his vision with the effort, breaths coming short and quick. Hooking his ringers into the aluminium grill he tugged, letting his body weight do most of the work, with a squeal of metal on metal it moved six inches. Three more tugs and it had moved as far as it ever would, the electrical cables disappearing into the cabin room pulled taught.

He rested for a moment then, taking several long slow breaths before clambering unsteadily to his feet, one hand resting on the purifier for balance. He halted again until his dizziness faded, then stood upright. The sudden movement caused the room to spin crazily and darkness rushed in, snuffing out his consciousness like a candle in a hurricane.

He awoke to a throbbing headache, his breath coming in short gasps. The air was stale now, the oxygen almost all gone. He was lying right next to the air purifier as it exhaled onto his face, doing nothing now except recycling the dead air. His mind wandered as grasped ineffectually at some king of clarity. He had been doing….something….something important.

His gaze wandered as he tried to remember the important thing, remember anything. Lying within easy reach, together on the cabin floor was a single cigarette and his lighter. His fumbling hands managed to insert the cigarette into his mouth and miraculously the lighter yielded a flame on the first strike. He raised the lighter to his face. It felt like it would be the last time.