Through the brain fog, he was wondering why his blankets weighed so much.
Even though TB5 had artificial gravity, it was still lighter that earth's.
The blankets seemed awfully heavy. Even on earth sleeping with just 2
blankets doesn't feel this heavy. There is something wrong with the air
purifier too as he gave a cough. The pain from the simple cough cleared
the fuzz a little. John awoke with the realization that he wasn't on TB5.
But he wasn't sure where he was at that moment. He opened his eyes to
darkness, but not so dark he couldn't see. There were sparks popping
about, and some smoke. He found he could move his head ok, but his body was
buried under.stuff. He couldn't figure out what was on top of him, but
they weren't blankets, that's for sure. He moved his right arm and was
able to push some of the objects off of him. He was on his left side and
both legs were pinned by a long bar of some sort. But, it wasn't heavy.
With a little work he was able to free his legs. He began to sit up when a
bolt of pain shot through his left arm. When he looked down at it, he
could see that it was bending in a direction that it wasn't supposed to
just below the shoulder. His arm was broken. He couldn't see well enough
to tell if it the break was through the skin or not. No matter what, it
hurt like the dickens.
Supporting his bad arm with his good one, he righted himself into a seated position. Gads, he hurt all over. But as far as he could tell, the arm was the worst. Everything else felt like bruises and torn muscles and maybe a cracked or bruised rib. As more of the brain fog lifted he was beginning to take in where he was, and he tried to remember what had happened. He looked around and tried to evaluate what he saw. He now remembered that he is in TB2 and the last thing he heard was Scott yelling for Virgil to get out of there fast. He was still strapped in his seat, thank God when whatever hit, hit. He remembers being thrown around the seat a bit when the safety belt broke and sent him flying through the air. But that was all he remembered. From the angle where he sat, it looks like TB2 is on her side. The front panel and windows are completely destroyed and full of dirt. The front end must be sitting under a pile of dirt and rubble. Maybe a little, maybe a lot, who knows. There was a ragged gaping hole in the back of the cockpit area.
VIRGIL!!!! Where the heck was Virgil?! He jumped up way to fast for his physical condition to handle, and he sank back down into a sitting position. His arm pounding pain to his brain. And his brain was fogging up again. John sat for a minute, waiting for the vertigo to pass and his arm to stop throbbing a bit.
"virgil?" he croaked. If Virgil was conscious anywhere in this mess, he would never be able to hear that. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Virgil?" He sat and listened. He strained to hear anything other than the occasional crackling of the shorting wires. "My WATCH!" He thought. He needed to communicate with anyone in his family maybe even Virgil. He had no idea if Scott was caught up in the explosion or if Virgil had gotten out. But, he had forgotten about the watch. No way was he going to be able to bring his left arm up to talk into the communicator, so he gingerly unhooked the watch with his right hand as his left arm hung limp by his side. When it was off, he looked at it and moaned. It was smashed. The same force that broke his arm broke the communicator. Now that his head had cleared a bit, he slowly rose up onto his feet. It was difficult standing on TB2's wall as it is curved. Not to mention all the debris around his feet. He looked around, for a handhold to help balance him and for anything that might help in his search. The chair that he had been sitting in was still bolted to the floor. He knew that there were several flashlights on board, usually mounted to the walls next to key equipment or under the seats. He clamored over some debris and grabbed for the chair with his good arm. When he had his balance, he felt underneath the chair and low and behold, the flashlight was still attached. He unhooked the flashlight and turned it on. It made it very clear just how badly TB2 was damaged. This pushed John more towards panic as he worried about Virgil. He knew Virgil was not strapped in when the explosion hit. Just before reaching the dangerzone Virgil had gotten out of his chair to check something and when he sat back down, things started to happen too fast. Virgil must have been thrown around like a rag doll. He NEEDED to find him quickly. He also needed to communicate to someone on the outside that he was still alive. Virgil's chair was broken and the communications microphone on it snapped off. So, there was no contact with the outside that way. There were radios in the different machines in the pod. Maybe one of them is still intact.
John slowly moved through the cabin moving debris and objects out of the way with either his foot or good arm. He looked everywhere where a body could hide under. When he looked towards the back at the gaping hole, his heart skipped a couple of beats. What if Virgil was thrown into the pod? If he survived the sharp edges of the torn metal, could he have survived being thrown around such a large area full of dangerous heavy objects also being tossed about? Suddenly John couldn't stay in the cabin any longer and he scrambled for the hole. He peered through the hole into the cavernous pod. He fanned the flashlight around the pod and the dark just ate up the beam of light. When his light hit upon the Mole, he could see what made the hole between the pod and cabin area. The Mole had broken loose and apparently was flung about piercing a hole everywhere that auger made contact. Its final resting-place has its auger poking through the bottom of the pod. He is sure that is can be seen from the outside. How he hoped someone was out there trying to get in. But if Scott was also caught up in the explosion, how would the others get there to help? Do they even think anyone survived?
He looked about trying to figure out how to climb down into the pod and search for Virgil. As he started to climb through the hole, his bad arm, just hanging limp banged up against the bulkhead. John's eyes watered at the pain. He decided that if he was going to be of any help in the search for Virgil, he needed to secure his broken arm. He looked about. The door to the stairway that leads down to the sickbay was blocked. But he really didn't want to go all the way there just to strap his arm. Anything will do. He looked about for a rag, any cloth that would fit around his arm and chest, immobilizing his arm. His belt wasn't long enough as he had a small waist. His SASH! How simple. All he needed to do was bring his arm up and slide the lower part into his sash, and that should secure it enough. Oh, but this is gonna hurt. Delicately, he bent his bad arm, and maneuvered his forearm inside his sash just above the belt. The pain was immense, and he had broken out in a sweat just doing that. But at least the arm was now immobilized.
The wall between the pod and cabin were actually two thick walls; one belonged to the main body of TB2, and the other to the pod. The hole was jagged with space in between the two walls. He stood at the hole scanning the inside of the pod close to him to find a suitable way into the pod without injuring himself even more. Or killing him for that matter. Since TB2 was on her side, but at a bit of an angle towards her belly, to get to the bottom of the pod was the longest possible route. The hole he was peering out of was up near the top of her on her left side. He continued to scan around the pod with the flashlight wanting to make sure he could get in relatively safely, with only one good arm. Suddenly in the beam of light he caught sight of a familiar blue color. He could not tell from where he was if it was just a torn piece of cloth, a spare uniform, or hat. Or if in fact there was someone attached to it. But he cast aside the precautions that he had started to follow and started into the pod. He was able to make use of clamps, and holds already built into the pod. And thankfully the Mole or some other heavy equipment had provided holes in the wall at very critical places. Climbing down into the pod was more like rock climbing on those fake walls that gyms have. Except, he had only one good arm, which slowed his descent down to a crawl.
He reached the bottom and focused his light in the direction that he thought he saw the blue. If he thought he had a difficult time maneuvering around the cabin, it would be even harder in here because of all the large pieces of heavy equipment. He wasn't sure how he was going to get around the Mole. Part of the auger was embedded through the pod floor and the back end came to rest against the right side of the pod. But it was at a very low angle to the pod floor. The Mole had partially separated from its chassis, and it did not look stable. John wasn't sure if he could make it under the main body of the Mole. Nothing looked very secure. Items were dangling from above him that were secured before the flight. They had survived the initial crash, but now seemed to be hanging by a thread. Any one of these objects could fall on top of him. Many of them weighing hundreds of pounds. There was also a dangerous looking pileup next to and partially supported by the Mole. It looks like if one box at the bottom gave out, the whole thing would collapse. He didn't like what he saw. But if Virgil was in here, he needed to find him.
He fanned his flashlight back and forth in the direction that he thought he saw blue. He knows he saw it. Nothing. He climbed over some debris and smaller pieces of equipment heading in the direction that he saw the blue. He fanned his flashlight around some more. Nothing. He headed for the space between the Mole and the floor and was about to crawl through when he fanned his light one more time in the direction.
John felt a pain in his chest. It was his heart. There caught in the beam of his flashlight was Virgil.
Supporting his bad arm with his good one, he righted himself into a seated position. Gads, he hurt all over. But as far as he could tell, the arm was the worst. Everything else felt like bruises and torn muscles and maybe a cracked or bruised rib. As more of the brain fog lifted he was beginning to take in where he was, and he tried to remember what had happened. He looked around and tried to evaluate what he saw. He now remembered that he is in TB2 and the last thing he heard was Scott yelling for Virgil to get out of there fast. He was still strapped in his seat, thank God when whatever hit, hit. He remembers being thrown around the seat a bit when the safety belt broke and sent him flying through the air. But that was all he remembered. From the angle where he sat, it looks like TB2 is on her side. The front panel and windows are completely destroyed and full of dirt. The front end must be sitting under a pile of dirt and rubble. Maybe a little, maybe a lot, who knows. There was a ragged gaping hole in the back of the cockpit area.
VIRGIL!!!! Where the heck was Virgil?! He jumped up way to fast for his physical condition to handle, and he sank back down into a sitting position. His arm pounding pain to his brain. And his brain was fogging up again. John sat for a minute, waiting for the vertigo to pass and his arm to stop throbbing a bit.
"virgil?" he croaked. If Virgil was conscious anywhere in this mess, he would never be able to hear that. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Virgil?" He sat and listened. He strained to hear anything other than the occasional crackling of the shorting wires. "My WATCH!" He thought. He needed to communicate with anyone in his family maybe even Virgil. He had no idea if Scott was caught up in the explosion or if Virgil had gotten out. But, he had forgotten about the watch. No way was he going to be able to bring his left arm up to talk into the communicator, so he gingerly unhooked the watch with his right hand as his left arm hung limp by his side. When it was off, he looked at it and moaned. It was smashed. The same force that broke his arm broke the communicator. Now that his head had cleared a bit, he slowly rose up onto his feet. It was difficult standing on TB2's wall as it is curved. Not to mention all the debris around his feet. He looked around, for a handhold to help balance him and for anything that might help in his search. The chair that he had been sitting in was still bolted to the floor. He knew that there were several flashlights on board, usually mounted to the walls next to key equipment or under the seats. He clamored over some debris and grabbed for the chair with his good arm. When he had his balance, he felt underneath the chair and low and behold, the flashlight was still attached. He unhooked the flashlight and turned it on. It made it very clear just how badly TB2 was damaged. This pushed John more towards panic as he worried about Virgil. He knew Virgil was not strapped in when the explosion hit. Just before reaching the dangerzone Virgil had gotten out of his chair to check something and when he sat back down, things started to happen too fast. Virgil must have been thrown around like a rag doll. He NEEDED to find him quickly. He also needed to communicate to someone on the outside that he was still alive. Virgil's chair was broken and the communications microphone on it snapped off. So, there was no contact with the outside that way. There were radios in the different machines in the pod. Maybe one of them is still intact.
John slowly moved through the cabin moving debris and objects out of the way with either his foot or good arm. He looked everywhere where a body could hide under. When he looked towards the back at the gaping hole, his heart skipped a couple of beats. What if Virgil was thrown into the pod? If he survived the sharp edges of the torn metal, could he have survived being thrown around such a large area full of dangerous heavy objects also being tossed about? Suddenly John couldn't stay in the cabin any longer and he scrambled for the hole. He peered through the hole into the cavernous pod. He fanned the flashlight around the pod and the dark just ate up the beam of light. When his light hit upon the Mole, he could see what made the hole between the pod and cabin area. The Mole had broken loose and apparently was flung about piercing a hole everywhere that auger made contact. Its final resting-place has its auger poking through the bottom of the pod. He is sure that is can be seen from the outside. How he hoped someone was out there trying to get in. But if Scott was also caught up in the explosion, how would the others get there to help? Do they even think anyone survived?
He looked about trying to figure out how to climb down into the pod and search for Virgil. As he started to climb through the hole, his bad arm, just hanging limp banged up against the bulkhead. John's eyes watered at the pain. He decided that if he was going to be of any help in the search for Virgil, he needed to secure his broken arm. He looked about. The door to the stairway that leads down to the sickbay was blocked. But he really didn't want to go all the way there just to strap his arm. Anything will do. He looked about for a rag, any cloth that would fit around his arm and chest, immobilizing his arm. His belt wasn't long enough as he had a small waist. His SASH! How simple. All he needed to do was bring his arm up and slide the lower part into his sash, and that should secure it enough. Oh, but this is gonna hurt. Delicately, he bent his bad arm, and maneuvered his forearm inside his sash just above the belt. The pain was immense, and he had broken out in a sweat just doing that. But at least the arm was now immobilized.
The wall between the pod and cabin were actually two thick walls; one belonged to the main body of TB2, and the other to the pod. The hole was jagged with space in between the two walls. He stood at the hole scanning the inside of the pod close to him to find a suitable way into the pod without injuring himself even more. Or killing him for that matter. Since TB2 was on her side, but at a bit of an angle towards her belly, to get to the bottom of the pod was the longest possible route. The hole he was peering out of was up near the top of her on her left side. He continued to scan around the pod with the flashlight wanting to make sure he could get in relatively safely, with only one good arm. Suddenly in the beam of light he caught sight of a familiar blue color. He could not tell from where he was if it was just a torn piece of cloth, a spare uniform, or hat. Or if in fact there was someone attached to it. But he cast aside the precautions that he had started to follow and started into the pod. He was able to make use of clamps, and holds already built into the pod. And thankfully the Mole or some other heavy equipment had provided holes in the wall at very critical places. Climbing down into the pod was more like rock climbing on those fake walls that gyms have. Except, he had only one good arm, which slowed his descent down to a crawl.
He reached the bottom and focused his light in the direction that he thought he saw the blue. If he thought he had a difficult time maneuvering around the cabin, it would be even harder in here because of all the large pieces of heavy equipment. He wasn't sure how he was going to get around the Mole. Part of the auger was embedded through the pod floor and the back end came to rest against the right side of the pod. But it was at a very low angle to the pod floor. The Mole had partially separated from its chassis, and it did not look stable. John wasn't sure if he could make it under the main body of the Mole. Nothing looked very secure. Items were dangling from above him that were secured before the flight. They had survived the initial crash, but now seemed to be hanging by a thread. Any one of these objects could fall on top of him. Many of them weighing hundreds of pounds. There was also a dangerous looking pileup next to and partially supported by the Mole. It looks like if one box at the bottom gave out, the whole thing would collapse. He didn't like what he saw. But if Virgil was in here, he needed to find him.
He fanned his flashlight back and forth in the direction that he thought he saw blue. He knows he saw it. Nothing. He climbed over some debris and smaller pieces of equipment heading in the direction that he saw the blue. He fanned his flashlight around some more. Nothing. He headed for the space between the Mole and the floor and was about to crawl through when he fanned his light one more time in the direction.
John felt a pain in his chest. It was his heart. There caught in the beam of his flashlight was Virgil.