"Right..." The Spine tore his gaze away from the lost woman, wishing that had something to cover her. It seemed inhuman, leaving her exposed to the elements like that. He glanced around, quickly, and spotted a suitcase nearby that had been thrown from the bowels of the plane. It had burst open on impact with the sand, spilling its contents.

A flowery sundress was used as an impromptu death shroud. The bright colors seemed irreverent; it was the best that he could do.

The sand seemed to suck at his heavy feet, slowing him down as he powered toward the wreckage. There were more bodies, broken and immobile. The plane had been nearly full. "Hello...? Is anyone--" Alive? He cut himself off and tried again. "Does anyone need help?" The passenger compartment of the jet lay open like a gaping wound, the tail half-submerged in the sea. The Spine approached carefully, sensors alerting him to fuel in the air and heat from the flames all around.

Gingerly, he stepped up into the listing compartment.