Qhuinn dived into the plane, pulled himself into the pilot’s seat, and tried to make sense of all the…fucking hell, there were a lot of dials. The only saving grace he had was that he’d—
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
—watched enough movies to know that the lever with the grip was the gas and the bow tie–shaped wheel was the thing you pulled up to go up, and pushed down to go down.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he stayed in a tuck position as much as he could.
