Mayday

    Head ringing, Hadji sat up, wincing at the pain in his ribs.  He had to push some debris off his legs in order to stand up.  Quickly but silently he made his way toward ' pit' of the plane, unsure of what he would find.  Straining his muscles he managed to pull the door open but the extra momentum caused the door to knock him on the floor and the air flew out of his lungs causing the dull pain hin his ribs to become a sharp stab.  Gritting his teeth he stood, limping slightly, having twisted his ankle when he fell.
    Carefully he stepped over the piles of rubble and entered the tiny, private plane's pit.  Laying over the controls he saw Race's prone form, with probbing fingers he searched for and found a steady pulse.  Thankful the others were laready at the destination he lowered himself into the co-pilot's chair and grabbed the radio.  "Mayday, mayday this is the Quest Hawk 568.  Do you Copy?"  Releasing the button he reached under the dash and pressed the locator beacon.  "Mayday, mayday this is the Quest Hawk 568.  We have crash landed.  Our location beacon is functioning.  Does anyone copy?"
    He was greeted by static.
    Determined not to be discouraged he put the radio down and went to were the first aid kit was strapped.  Doing the best he could without moving Race he bandaged the cuts and splinted his broken arm before returning to the radio.  "Mayday, mayday.  This is the Quest Hawk.  We have crash landed.  Our beacon is operational.  Do you copy?"
    Again, only static greeted his efforts.  Seeing the sun going down he gathered some blankets and emergency supplies, dragging all he could carry into ' pit' before securing the door with a coil of rope.
    Taking a couple of blankets he covered Race.  Then as he inhaled deeply he began coughing so hard his throat burned.  When he pulled his hand away from his mouth he could see 'blood' streaking the mucus.  Swallowing hard he sat back in the co-pilot's seat and tried hailing someone a couple of times before he curled up and fell asleep.
    The next morning he woke up, and he could barely move, breathing alone took most of his energy and he would have killed to stay where he was and sleep but remembering Race he knew he couldn't.
    Forcing away the viel of pain he sat up, glanced at Race and reached once again for the radio.  He repeated the message four times before he began hacking half way though the fifth.  The pain brought him to his knees.
    "Hadji?"
    Raising a tear-stained face, he watched Race sit up, gingerly rubbing his temples.
    "Race, you're okay."  He croaked as he staggered to his feet.  A wave of dizziness overcame him though and he ended up falling against his friend.
    "Woah, Hadji.  I think you'd better lay down."
    Hadji didn't fight him as he gently laid him on the floor.  He opened his mouth to speak but Race silenced him when his eyes stared at the front of Hadji's white shirt.  Following his gaze Hadji noticed for the first time that it was stained with the 'blood' he'd been coughing up.
    Race studied his face and Hadji found himself trying to explain.  "I think I hurt my lung but you seemed hurt worse... you arm... I radioed for help but..."  He had to stop, talking was causing him too much pain.
    Race shook his head in disbelief.  "Sometimes I don't know what's worse, your nobility or Jonny's stubborness."
    Had iled and as he drifted back to sleep he heard the squawk of the radio.  Help was on it's way.