Star Trek: Erin

Part 28: Among the Dark and Twisted

     My eyes snapped open. Not much difference between them being closed. Some faint florescence let me see my nose but not anything beyond. I fumbled around until I found my communicator. "Come in, T—" I broke off into coughing. The air was dense and musky. My lungs shook, and I wiped away saliva when I finished. "Goddammit. Tetra, come in."

     My communicator let out a plaintive whine.

     I swore again and pocketed it. Need to get higher. We fell a long way. I blinked. Oh, shit. We. I patted around. "Gabriel?" I hissed. Something about the dark and silence encouraged whispering. "You dead?"

     There was a vague choking noise beneath me.

     "Shit!" I took my foot off her windpipe and scrabbled off her. "Gabriel, did I land on you? What can you feel? Can you feel your legs?" I found her shoulder in the darkness, unsure where to start with doctoring. If I fucking paralyzed her—god, how am I going to get her back to the others? Is this—

     Relief surged through me as she swatted away my hand. "You're lucky I'm not."

     I gave a little laugh. "Yeah, lucky."

     "Not the time, Cobos."

     Right. I sank back on my haunches. "No response from the others, and there's a matter of light." Way to go, Cobos. You don't have a flashlight. Should've had some freaking foresight. I tilted my head. If we get out of this, I'm sending a recommendation or something to Command. You'd think a flashlight would be part of our kit. Not everyone has night vision.

     "My med kit has matches."

     "Yippee."

     I heard her scuffling around. Phix. Phix. A tiny flame hissed to life. I squinted past it at Gabriel's face. She had a wide cut on her forehead that had stopped bleeding while we were unconscious but had left an awful lot of dried blood on half of her face. I remembered the blinding pain along my forearms that had caused me to let go and glanced down. Nothing despite my sleeves having considerable damage and a slightly imbedded thorn that had evidently just broken off from a nearby clump by my boot.

     Didn't hurt much.

     I realized those weren't the most pressing issues and sawed off enough of my pants to wrap around the nearest piece of rebar. I lit my makeshift torch with the last moments of our brave little match.

     Silver glinted. Gabriel was considering her phaser. "These can be used to make light, right? Heat something enough and it glows?"

     "With the architecture apparently relying on rather flammable plants, I didn't think it was the best idea." I gestured at her. "By the way, you've got a bit of blood right—" I slapped a hand over half my face. "—here."

     "You're freaking out, aren't you?"

     "No, shut up." Think, Cobos. First things first. Light? Check. First aid? I considered the thorn in my arm. "You're the medical expert, Gabriel. Leave the strange thorn in my skin?"

     "Take it out but keep it in case there are complications. Pressure on the spot."

     I pinched the stub as best I could and ripped it out, quick and—surprisingly—still not that painful. I bound the site with more pants fabric.

     "I do have bandages."

     "Should've mentioned that before." I glanced at Gabriel. She'd cleaned most of the blood off, although there were flecks here and there. Alright. Keep up the momentum. I pocketed the weird thorn. 'Complications.' Better not be Glasgow's kind of 'complications.' I hefted my torch as high as I could reach. The rubble had covered where we'd fallen. Interestingly, there was one of those bulbs above us, albeit closer in size to a person than a food cube. A dark tube seemed to lead away, but I sure as hell wasn't going to climb in there. I squinted at the rubble. "We need to get out from under this. It looks like it might settle more."