Thanks for the encouragement! Here's part two…

Pt 2

John had landed on a thick wad of undefinable plants and wild, prickly bushes. The upper half of his body was hidden from view, his legs stuck into the air like the antennas of an insect, when Dorian finally found him. He clambered over the branches. 'John? John! Can you hear me?'

Still, no answer. The detective was out cold.

Dorian put his fingers in John's neck, searched for the pulse and in the meantime, ran a health check. Apart from numerous superficial cuts and bruises, John's readings were okay.

'Come on, John, wake up,' Dorian tried and carefully shook him by the shoulder. He patted his partner's face and lifted his head a little. 'John? Can you hear me?'

He thought he saw John's eyelids flutter.

'Yes, that's it. Come on. Wake up, man.'

According to his scan, John had only minor injuries, but a gash behind his ear was deep and nasty and it bled, forming a pattern of dark spots on the leaves below him. Maybe that blow to the head knocked him out. The minuscule movement in his face was a short-lived one. It didn't show again.

Dorian tried again to wake him up, but still John remained in the same, unresponsive state. Although one of the rules of First Aid was to not move the victim, Dorian decided otherwise. Lying the way he did could hardly be comfortable, so the android removed what branches and sticks where in the way, and then lifted John from his precarious position.

That went wrong, as Dorian's brain kept telling him that he could use both hands. The moment he picked John off the branches, the detective instantly slipped away from his grip. Dorian realized to his horror that he had no grip at all on John's torso, that only his left hand firmly held on to the crook of John's knees, but that he could not prevent his partner from tilting to one side, sliding off the arm that picked him up.

Dorian made a rapid move to get himself and John balanced again, but couldn't prevent falling backwards while holding on to the lax, heavy figure in his arms. He pressed his right arm hard against John's body, drew him close, and curled his back to roll as agile as possible onto the mossy forest ground and onto safety.

Their fall yielded an unexpected result - a groan from John and a pair of brown-grey-green eyes that opened. Confused, John blinked, at first unable to focus. Dorian bowed over him, and touched his face with his fingertips.

'John? Can you hear me?'

'… gawd… 'at 'appened…?'

'The helicopter crashed. You were thrown out,' Dorian explained and watched as John pushed himself to a sitting position. He moaned and was clearly not feeling well. Dorian imagined waking up from unconsciousness brought that about, so he waited patiently for John to get his wits together.

The dark-haired detective touched the cut behind his ear and winced, then he looked at his leg. HIs dark jeans were soaked in blood, a tear revealed underlying, raw flesh.

'Don't worry,' said Dorian. 'I ran a full check on you. You are alright. You're injuries are superficial only.'

'Doesn't feel like it,' John said with a voice that was deep with discomfort. 'Look at my leg. It needs a banda— where's Escott?'

'Unknown,' replied Dorian. 'I have not been able to find him.'

'Damn. You checked the wreckage?'

'I did. There are no life signs in the remains of the helicopter.'

'The pilot?'

'I am sorry, John. Bob Jamieson is dead,' Dorian said. Bob Jamieson was the first victim he found - the pilot had broken his neck. Rave Escott, the prisoner John and he were escorting, had either taken off or he had been thrown out of the helicopter as well and landed somewhere outside Dorian's search grid.

'Where… what's happened to your hand? Are you alright?' It wasn't until now that John noticed Dorian's missing hand.

'I am fine, John. Thank you. My hand is missing and I have not found it yet. How does your leg feel? Is it functioning properly?' Dorian frowned at John's reluctance to stand up. Usually, his partner wasn't very squeamish but now he didn't appear eager to get to his feet.

'I think so,' John said and moved his synthetic leg, then nodded. 'Yes, that seems to work as it always does. I need a bandage for my leg, and then we must make a plan.'

'A plan? Regulations dictate that we stay as close to the wreck as possible, increasing the likelihood of a rescue party finding us.' Dorian tore off his right sleeve and kneeled to help John dress the wound, only to find that he couldn't do much with one hand.

John did it himself. He grunted when he pulled a tight knot in the fabric, which obviously hurt.

'Is it painful?' Dorian inquired.

'I'm okay,' John said curtly, which Dorian took as a reprimand for invading his personal space. 'Listen, Dorian. How long have we been here? How long have I been out?'

'Between the moment of the crash and your awakening 37 minutes and 54 seconds have passed,' Dorian replied.

John rubbed his forehead, let his hand go over the sore spot behind his ear and shivered. Dorian imagined he must feel the soft edges of the torn flesh under his fingertips. He lowered his bloodied hand onto his lap. 'If Escott is unharmed, he has a head start of half an hour. That's bad.'

'Do you want me to find him? I did a quick search but have not expanded the grid when I found you.'

'How far can you get in the same amount of time?'

Dorian did the math. 'If Escott walks, it will take me fifteen to twenty minutes to catch up with him. If he runs it might take approximately eight to ten minutes longer.'

'So you're able to get him in, let's say, half an hour?'

'Provided I can pick up his trail,' Dorian nodded.

'Which I know you can and will. Go, get him and bring him back here.'

'What will you do?'

John's hands trembled a little, so he made quick fists and apparently hoped Dorian hadn't noticed. 'My head hurts and my leg will slow you down. I'll stay here.'

Of course Dorian had seen it, but he chose not to push. Apparently John needed more time to get his strength back. He did look pale and it was clear he wasn't feeling well. That surprised Dorian, since his scan had not revealed any severe injuries. Maybe the blow to his head had taken a bit more of John's resilience than Dorian expected.

'Okay. You rest while I find Escott. I'll be as quick as possible.'

The android turned on his heels but John stopped him before he could take off. 'Dorian? Did you send out a mayday?'

'I have, John, but I haven't had a response yet. We might be too far away from The City.'

'Can't you access a satellite and have it relay your call?' John suggested.

For a second, Dorian was exasperated, which didn't often happen. 'I'm a DRN, not a satellite engineer. I have no means to access any such a device. Neither my hardware nor my software are equipped for that kind of work.'

John let out a frustrated sigh and again ran a hand over his forehead. 'Alright, it was just a thought. You better go. Have you got your weapon?'

'Yes,' said Dorian and patted the gun he had holstered. 'Are you sure I can leave you alone?'

'Yeah, I'll manage. Dorian?'

'What?'

'Be careful. There are minefields out there. One hand missing is enough for today,' John's voice was thoughtful and Dorian understood that the carefully chosen words were uttered out of worry.

'I will be. Thank you for the warning.'

Not much later Dorian spotted trampled undergrowth, picked up the trail and in seconds he had left John far behind.

to be continued…