Somewhere in the Canyons of Arizona
. . . Lynn appears as a slim woman with brown eyes and brown hair worn in a ponytail. She wears a dark olive green safari shirt with the sleeves rolled up, unbuttoned to reveal a light green tank top underneath - as well as grey jeans, black belt and matching boots.
As Lynn sat in the chopper, looking at the scenery above, she thought about the woman they’re doing the documentary about. “Jane Doe”, a woman found pregnant, barefoot, and alone on the side of the road. As she was pondering it, she looks at her husband. He’s asleep?? Seriously? And he’s calling out a woman’s name… Jessica. Does he know a Jessica? She spoke up.
“Jesus, Blake, are you really sleeping?”
Blake is suddenly woke up by her scolding him. His eyes shoot open
“I’m awake.”
After a beat of silence, Lynn looks back up at him, bringing up something.
“You were calling out some other woman's name. In your sleep. Jessica, I think. You know a Jessica?”
she said skeptically, crossing her arms at her husband. Blake quickly saw how it looked and explained.
“Oh- no. I mean… I was dreaming about Jessica Gray. From when we were kids.”
L - “Ah. Yeah. I haven't thought about her in ages.”
other than that the chopper ride was normal, the couple talking and filming the documentary, and the scenery for production value.
“All the mercury in that woman's blood…She had to have spent a least a decade downstream from some pretty heavy industry.”
She brought up about the Jane doe. She was right. The woman didn’t seem like she came from a good place. After a small debate about whether or not to pronounce the woman as dead or not in their documentary, they continued.
“Two weeks ago, a young woman was found wandering, barefoot, pregnant, and alone on a barren stretch of highway a hundred miles from the nearest... Oh!—“
she’s cut off as a blinding, massive light washed over them, and the chopper malfunctioned.
“We lost the engine. Fuck. Fuck!”
the pilot yelled. He began talking on the radio frantically, radioing in help. Lynn and Blake were freaking out, especially when the chopper door broke open and fell off, and Lynn almost falling out of the chopper. Blake had caught her, and he kept her away from the door as he held her face in his hands, with Lynn panicking.
“Fuck, Blake! Oh god oh god! Please, Blake I don’t wanna die!!”
“Don’t let go Lynn!” . . . her eyes flickered open, the fire from the crash illuminating the area. As she looks around, her husband is nowhere.
“Blake?!”
she calls out. She coughs from the smoke and ash. She hears footsteps… Blake?— it’s a group of people, but they don’t look so civilized. They muttered to each other, before grabbing her! She struggled, not wanting to be taken away by these people. They keep muttering about “Papa Knoth”.
as the group moved, Lynn can see another few members from the group gutting, and skinning the pilot they had in the chopper, hanging him up on a tree… . . . Shes brought to the chapel. In front of Knoth. This is Papa Knoth, a rather fat man in a priests outfit. Lynn already feels sick to her stomach. . . . unspeakable things happened. Lynn doesn’t want to talk about it whatsoever, as she managed to jump out a window to escape. Her stomach hurts so much… she stands up, as the members above in the chapel yell out to the others. They’re going to hunt her. They’re going to kill her. They think she’s pregnant with the anti-Christ, even though Lynn denied it, and knoth had told them to slit her belly and kill the baby. She already has scrapes and blood on her face. She can’t die here! She has to escape. She has to find her husband, Blake Langermann. This island is fucked.