The Last Flight. Chapter 5 - Sex Stories

The Last Flight. Chapter 5

From within the huddle of people I began to hear shouts but they were vague and distant. The chattering of my teeth seemed to drown out most of the other sounds around me. Jemima's voice seemed to cut through it all though. “They're here.” she said gently, “You'll be fine now.” I opened my eyes and frowned, then realised that the noise was not my teeth chattering but the clatter of an approaching helicopter. In no time at all the tiny, two seat machine had landed at the end of the old runway, a few feet away and switched off the noisy engine. Once the rotors had slowed to a stop, the two occupants jumped down and ran across to us, bending low beneath the heavy blades. “Over here, quickly!” George shouted to them. “She needs help.” The passenger from the machine carried a first aid kit with him. “I only 'ave zis small kit.” he apologised in a heavy French accent. “'ow many are injured?” “We all are in some way.” Jemima answered him, “But Karen has a bad gash in her leg and needs urgent attention. She is also in shock.” “I am no docteur, we are with ze electrique.” the young man looked worried. We 'eard mayday and were looking for ze crash!” The other man, the pilot, spoke up: “I 'ave radio ze position of ze crash. 'elp should be 'ere soon.” I was still shivering violently. I seemed unable to control my muscles as Jemima and the young man re-dressed my wound with clean dressing and bandaged it. “Can you get her to hospital in that contraption of yours?” she asked him. “Mai ...

... oui,” he shrugged, “I suppose so. I will ask... HENRI!” he called across to the other, older man who was talking with the other survivors. They conversed briefly in French, a language which I had never bothered to learn so understood none of it. “We do not carry enough fuel to fly as far as Toulouse but we should be Ok for Limoges. I can fly 'er zere...” “Please hurry, Henri.” Jemima pleaded, “She is a strong woman but she has lost quite a bit of blood.” With help from the other passengers I felt myself lifted and carried towards the tiny cockpit where I was strapped into the seat. The young Frenchman covered me with a blanket. I was only vaguely aware of Henri flicking switches and then a wheeze before the engine burst into life and the rotors began to turn above my head. There was no door and the last thing I heard before the darkness washed over me was the vague distant sound of a woman's voice. I couldn't hear what words she used but somehow, I knew it was Jemima wishing me luck. When I awoke I was in bed and I stretched and yawned. Such a lovely sleep but wow, what a dream I'd had. The room was dark but lit by a dim bulb that seemed so far away and as my eyes became accustomed to the half light I saw that I was not alone. I realised that this was not my hotel room but a hospital ward and then, it hit me. I had not had a dream, it was all real! Jemima, the crash, everything had really happened. My heart began pounding and I tried to sit up. There was a blood bag hanging from ...