Author's Note: This chapter turned out to be longer than I expected and I'm still not finish writing for it. I had to cut it because it may be a while until I actually finish it. So, I didn't want those interested in this story waiting for an eternity for the next update.

Something I forgot to mention is why I rated this M. The film, Pitch Black itself is rated R for violence, death, gore, alcohol, and language. So of course, those things will appear in my my story too. But I got to be careful since this site is a bit strict when it involves adult themes. There is also some profanity, but it's not excessive. I tend to avoid it in writing, but sometimes I can't because not only is it realistic, but I want to be true to the characters. Sometimes profanity is the only way for them to emphasis on the seriousness of a situation. Or sometimes it's the only thing that comes to their mind that perfectly sums up their feelings about something too.

Chapter 3
I'm An Engineer, Not A Doctor

Jack and I were almost to the front of the ship when we heard loud voices. The first person we spotted was Johns with a modified shotgun strapped to his back and a pistol at his belt, which he didn't have before and a short haired blonde woman. She was leaning over something and it looked like a person. Imam's group, Shazza, Zeke and the ungrateful man came over from various directions, probably drawn to the commotion.

I was the first one to reach them, quickly spotting a man on the ground. He was still strapped onto to his chair, which must have been ripped from its moorings in the crash. With a quick look around I recognize our location it's the navigation bay, which is in the main cabin of the ship. I could be wrong, but the man on the ground must be our navigation officer, Greg Owens. He might be dead because he's not moving and there's a metal rod impaling him.

The blonde woman reached out to touch him, possibly to check if he's truly dead.

With a suddenly jolt, he yelled out loud, "...out, out, get it outta me!"

The woman recoiled, bumping into Johns. At the same time the other survivors appear behind Jack. "Omigod..." someone whispered.

"Pull it out of him now!" another voice croaked.

The blonde woman dazedly, reached out.

"No, it's too close to his heart."

Another voice cut in, "You gotta do it, just do it fast."

Before anymore stupid suggestion could be made, I moved closer and leaned besides the woman. The man is lucky, because despite what someone thought, it's nowhere near his heart. It's actually punctured his shoulder and he's more likely to survive that than if it was near his heart.

"First, we need to get him outta this chair," I said, unbuckling the straps to get him out of it without making his injury worst. He groaned, as Zeke and Shazza came over and helped me lay him on the floor.

"What else can we do?" Shazza, asked while looking at his injury.

"I need something to stop the bleeding," I said, checking to see if the rod went completely through his shoulder. It did. I have put pressure on both sides of the wound. "Bandages, shirt, whatever you can find because right now, the biggest threat to his life is bleeding to death. We can't remove the rod right now because it might have hit an artery. If it did than it's the only thing preventing him from bleeding out. Besides, we don't even have any medical equipment to properly patch him up if we were to do so. Unless someone was lucky enough to find a medical kit on their way here?"

I looked up, noticing that some were looking away and others were frowning and shaking their heads.

"Great, just great," I sighed, knowing that the man's chance of survival is very slim.

"Here, use this," Zeke said, taking off one of the shirts he was wearing and ripping it apart.

I took the rags and wrapped them around the wound, front and back. "What about the medical bay?"

"It is in poor condition," Imam said, "all the equipment and medicine have been rendered useless or destroyed in the crash."

"Can anything be salvage from it?" I asked, frowning. "He's not going to make it if I leave him like this. He needs more than just stitches. I'm not a doctor, but I did take a course on first aid and emergency survival medicine. I can improvise if need be. I would need something to sterilize his wound and for any tools I use on him, like rubbing alcohol, hydrogen peroxide or even cheap spirits such as vodka. But if none of that survive the crash, an open flame could work just the same."

I bite my lip, thinking on what else I would need in order to help him.

"Surgical gloves. If not, I'll have to find something to thoroughly wash my hands with. Pain relief medicine too. It's going to hurt a lot once I start patching him up. I'll also need a scalpel or a knife, a thread; suture material would be ideal, but if not, dental floss could work too, a needle, scissors and a needle nose plier."

"I will go look again and hope that we will find what you need," Imam said, leaving and nudging the boys with him. A small part of me thinks it's also an excuse for him to drag the boys away from the sight of possibly dying man.

"Can a cutting torch work to serialize tools?" Shazza asked, taking off her jacket and putting it on top on the console. "You can use this for bandages if you need it."

"Yeah, that will do."

"I'll go get it," she said, but before she can leave the lanky man stopped her.

"...I may have some vodka," he said, hesitating. "It's in cargo and I will need some help in getting to it."

"I'll go with you," Zeke said, leading him out of the cabin to get it and Shazza follow behind.

The short haired blonde woman stayed silent, standing next to Johns and watching with an indescribable expression on her face. Jack stayed next to the entrance, watching the man and I with a morbid fascination. Johns too, seemed to eye me strangely, maybe in curiosity or suspicion? The woman came closer, and I looked back at her, while keeping pressure on the man's wounds.

"Will...will he be okay?" she asked, concerned.

I look down at the man, studying his features. He's a bit order and attractive I suppose. But he's obviously suffering from some blood loss, making him pale with his blue eyes unfocused and breathing heavily. He's in a lot of pain and fading in and out of consciousness from it.

"His injury is survivable, but in this situation his chances don't look good. We don't have the proper equipment or medicine to ensure he'll live. His chances decreases even more if any complication occurred that are out of my skill and knowledge range," I said, frowning. "I'll try my best to save him, but I can't make any promises about it."

Shazza came back with the torch and a bag. She kneed down besides me, pulling out the contents. "There are some clothes and blankets in here. Figured it'll be good to have in case there's no bandages. There's a flashlight too."

"Thanks, every little bit helps," I said.

"You ever done this before?" Johns inquired.

"This in particular?" I answered, frowning while I looked over my shoulder at him. "No. The worst I ever had to deal with was when someone fell and broke their leg. They had an open fracture, which is when the break is severe enough to puncture through skin. There was also a time when someone had lost a finger and another that had their whole hand crushed under a machine. But those weren't as bad as the first."

I turned back to Owens, studying the injury. I'm not completely sure but from what I can remember of the medical diagrams, the rod seem to have hit the area between the scapula and the clavicle. And at the angle it's at it could have missed the axillary artery completely. Maybe it won't be too bad, but I won't know for sure until I get a closer look at the wound.

"If the situation was different. I would have just stopped the bleeding and kept him immobile to reduce his pain and to prevent any further injury. I also wouldn't attempt to remove the rod because it could be what's clotting the wound, and removing it could cause severe bleeding. Basically, the goal would have been to keep him stable for as long as possible, so that an emergency medical personnel could take over and actually treat him."

"That's not gonna be happening anytime soon," Johns said. "It'll be weeks or months before anyone realizes we're missing or that the ship hadn't reached its final stop."

"Exactly. If we knew help was on it's way in an hour or in a day I would've done that. I suppose I could still do that in hopes we'll be rescued soon, but realistically they won't be coming that quickly. Besides, the longer his wound is left untreated, the greater the risk of an infection occurring." I said, biting my lip.

"It's a good thing you're here then," Jack retorted, "he would be dead if it was just us."

"I haven't helped him yet," I said, "anything could still go wrong."

Zeke came back, holding a bowl filled with things. The other man followed behind him, carrying two bottles of alcohol. "We found dental floss, a pocket knife, scissors, pliers, thread and needle used for sewing clothes, a roll of fishing line and a fishing hook too," Zeke said, placing the bowl next to me.

Shazza took a shirt from the pile she found, laying it down on the floor and spreading the items out on top of it.

"We ran into Imam on our way here. He found bandages and gloves. He's still looking for more things," Zeke said, grabbing the alcohol bottles from the other man. "Mostly medicine, but it doesn't seem we'll be that lucky."

"Thanks," I said, scanning the items. "This is certainly better than nothing. I will make it work. Someone needs to keep the pressure on his wounds while I prep."

Shazza nods, taking over for me. I grab a shirt to wipe some of the blood off. Then I used the soap with a bit of the alcohol to wash off the rest from my hands. With clean hands I put on the surgical gloves and put some of the alcohol onto the bowl to serialize the knife, needle, pliers and the dental floss. I breath in, trying to ignore the coppery scent of blood.

"I need to clean the wound, but first the bar needs to be pulled out and I'll have to work quickly to stitch him up. Not just in the front, but the back wound too. I really hope that the rod didn't hit the axillary artery. If it did, I would need to tie off the bleeding vessel and that's not something I'm confident I can do. I do know that he'll need a blood transfusion or blood pills afterwards. We have none of that, though. If he manages to survive all that, he'll also need a tetanus booster and some antibiotics to prevent an infection," I said, thinking out loud as I thread the floss threw the needle.

I place it down on the clean shirt, motioning for Zeke to pick up the scissors. "You'll have to cut a hole around his injury so that I have easier access to it."

When he was done, he ripped a few more clothing for me. He handed me a clean rag, and I soaked it in alcohol. I kept the bottle close as I will need to pour directly into the wound once I'm done.

"You will have to keep putting pressure on the back wound, especially when I remove the rod," I said to Shazza, and I turned to Zeke. "You will have to hold him down so that he's still as possible."

Zeke moved into place, keeping a firm grip on Owens. Before I could stop the blonde woman, she bent down brushing her fingers against the metal bar. Owens twitched in pain, his head snapping towards her.

"Don't touch it! Don't touch that switch!" he yelled, his eyes making contact with hers.

"Doncha you got some drugs for him?" Jack asked, trying to get a better look.

"Don't touch that switch!"

"I'm sorry, sorry...I think there's anestaphine in a box on the wall, at the end of the cabin...next to..." the blonde woman said, stepping back regretful.

The section of the ship she's talking about was gone. Owens yelling turns into mumbles once she's out of sight. I do have some pills, but they aren't strong enough to block the kind of pain he's in. They'll be useless at this point.

"The pain is going to be worst once I get started, hopefully he'll pass out during it," I added, steeling myself for what I have to do.

"Ready?" Shazza asked.

I nodded and she removed her hand from the front, dragging the bloody cloth with her. The sight of the injury made me queasy, but I fought it down and concentrated on what I needed to do. I glance at Zeke and he nods too, tightening his hold on Owens. As I pull the bar out, Owens is screaming and struggling, but it's abruptly cut off as he passes out from the excruciating pain. I throw the bar away, quickly placing the clean and alcohol soak cloth onto his wound.

I begin wiping and pouring alcohol over my gloved hands again and then onto the wound. Blood pours out and I clean as much as I can while examining the wound for any foreign matter. He's very lucky that it barely missed the artery. I sigh in relief, doing my best to disinfect as much as I can. I pick up the knife to carefully cut away loose or jagged edges around the wound. This is necessary to prepare the edges of the wound for a clean suture. I pick up the needle and pliers, pushing the needle into the skin and with the pliers I pull it out. I repeat the process as quick and neat as I possibly can. When I'm done sowing his wound shut I pour alcohol onto it.

"Okay, turn him. I need to get his back too," I said, using my forearm to wipe some of the sweat from my forehead. It's not because it's hot, but because this is so stressful. I never expect to be in a situation where I would actually need to use what I learned for work to save someone. First aid was a requirement, because accidents tended to happen in the engineering field. I thought it would look good on my resume if I went a little extra and took a survival course, mostly for the medical aspect.

I aimed to be a chief engineer. My work experience was growing, but I knew it wouldn't be enough to get that position just yet. I still needed a few more years of experience, at least ten years to be even considered for it. I also needed something to differentiate me from the other candidates once I applied for it. It would be difficult for me since that field is still uncommon for women to be in. But all of that doesn't matter anymore.

Shazza pulled away, going somewhere to wash off the blood on her hands. Zeke carefully turned Owens onto his side, making sure that his wound doesn't touch the dirty floor. I exhaled, cleaning and repeating the entire procedure for the back wound. There's no tape for me to put the bandage on, so I had to wrap it around him and tied it.

I leaned back, relieved to finish without any complications. My back aches as I stand up, grabbing a clean rag to wipe off my bloody hands. I check his pulse, concern at the rate it's going.

"He should be fine for now," I said, helping Zeke to move him onto a clean blanket. "But there's still risk of him reopening his wound or getting an infection."

"When will he wake up?" the blonde woman asked, clenching her pants and staring intently at Owens.

"I'm not sure. It'll probably be a while since he did lose a lot of blood," I said cleaning and wiping down the tools, before placing them inside the bag that Shazza bought along earlier. We might need these things again, and it'll be convenient if it's all in one place. When everything was put away I set aside the bag, next to the navigation console.

"Let us hope that he does not wake anytime soon," Imam said, walking inside the cabin. "He is not in pain this way. We've search more thoroughly and unfortunately we did not find any pain medication."

"That is true. All we can do now is check his wound once in a while for signs of infection. We'll have to try and prevent it, but it typically develops within seven days," I said. "If we're lucky, rescue might not take too long to reach us and then we'll be able to get him the proper care he needs.

"Rescue is coming, right?" the lanky man asked, looking towards the blonde woman.

"I need a few moments to myself, please," the woman said, ignoring the question and leaning against a beam while holding her head. "Just a few..."

"Okay, just call me if he wakes up or something is wrong," I said, getting up and following behind the others as they head out.

Jack lagged behind to watch the woman, but Johns doubles back and collar him. Leaving, they catch up to me and we pass the criminal who's cuffed to a bulkhead. His eyes, still hidden by a blindfold, track us as we walked towards daylight. I paused, staring at him and he breaths in deeply through his nose. My eyes narrow on him, wondering why I don't feel scared around him when I should be.

I think it's because I don't take other people's words about something or someone being dangerous or bad until I see for myself. And it helps that I know I can protect myself too. But how did he get there? Did he escape and get caught again? Or did Johns just move him away and I assume incorrectly that he escaped earlier? I guess that doesn't matter now.