Reece must of stayed in that seat for quite a few hours. When he finally came to, the sun was starting to set. They were losing light fast. It was so warm though, maybe it wouldn't be an issue, he thought. He rubbed his feet absently into the sand. What a great vacation he was having. Wait. Vacation? No it was a business trip. His gaze drifted upwards to the leaves of the tree he was under. A palm tree, how nice. He must of fallen asleep on one of Italy's beaches. He had a blaring headache focused in the front of his forehead. His vision was pretty blurry too. What had he drank? He couldn't remember feeling this awful before. Suddenly he sprang up in a sitting position. His stomach churned and he turned to his and emptied his stomach onto the warm sand. The ringing in his ears slowly faded, getting replaced by the sound of crying. Reece looked around him. People were strewn out, many of the injured, dead or dying. He could see the glow of fire off to the distance. What was going on? He recognized some of these people... I think they were one the plane with me, His mind started reeling. I came back to him slowly. The sudden jerk of the plane, the stewardess falling over. People screaming, and the sudden impact followed by silence. Did.. did we crash? He asked himself mentally. 

He tried to stand up, it took a couple of tries. It seemed almost impossible to get a foothold in the soft sand. With great effort, he managed to make it up it. His legs felt like a combination of cement and jello. His head continued throbbing. Reaching up to rub his forehead he felt a soft mound of gauze, obviously covering a wound. Reece dropped his hand, finally knowing where they headache came from. Slowly, he wobbled his way behind the thickness of some trees, where no one could see him. Immediately he began inspecting himself for injury. He had a terrible bruise across his waist, likely from the seatbelt. There were scrapes all over him, and the skin on his left elbow was rubbed raw. But all things considered, he got off lucky really. Chances were he'd come out of this with a few scars, but he was coming out of this. Redressing he stumbled back to everyone, stopping briefly. After catching his breath, he saw the wreckage. The aircraft was broken in half, the front half almost vertical. The cockpit was buried in a hole of sand, made from the impact. There was no chance that the pilots inside survived. It was disheartening for sure. 

Cautiously, he made his way to the craft. Shuffling there, little by little. His hips were hurting quite terribly and he was dizzy beyond belief. Beyond all that, he was stubborn. If he wanted something, he would damn well get it. Right now, he wanted to get to the plane. Several people shouted at him to sit down, a few even tried to grab him. But he just shrugged them off and kept going. Climbing into the open cabin, he started sifting through the cargo compartment. Throwing several bags to the ground until he got his own. A large dark-purple one with wheels and a smaller black shoulder bag. He pulled the out, putting the small one on his back and open the handle on the large. With great effort he made his way out of the craft. He tried not to look at the bodies that were left inside, it was best to pretend they weren't there at least until he regained his sense and could handle it. The wheels of large bag he pulled behind him didn't cooperate with the sand as well as he hoped. He managed though it must've taken many times longer than it should have to make it back to what one might venture to call a camp. Falling to his knees he unzipped the large bag and started pulling out the several large blankets inside. He had packed for the stay at the hotel, that evidently he wasn't going to have now. Reece had always hated the linen that hotels provided and took up the habit of bringing his own. This time he pulled about 3 king-size blankets. They weren't much thicker than a bed sheet but they were fuzzy and warm. Things that might be useful right now. "Here," He forced out, tossing them in the direction of some of the more able-bodied survivors.