Click-click.
Ava jumped at the sound and pulled her hand away from the siding. It had come from inside the plane! She glanced back at Abe, waiting a few yards off. He looked paler than ever, and watched her progress with a pained but attentive gaze.
She steeled herself. Once she got inside this dump she was bound to see some loose old screw or other, fidgeting around as old things do.
Click-click.
With a deep breath she moved around the edge of the tail, which had snapped off and lay embedded in the frozen dirt. The grove of trees came back into view, and with it-- Click-click.
A figure stood at the edge of the grove, watching them. Watching her. She blinked and then--it was gone. But she thought--she could have sworn--had someone been following them?
Click-click.
The sound echoed out more clearly on this end and pulled her attention back to the crash; whoever it was would have to wait. The metal siding was torn on this end, and the shadowed opening was just barely wide enough for a person to step through.
Click-click.