<strong>Emily</strong><br/><strong>On the cockpit floor</strong><br/><strong>Wounded</strong><br/><br/><br/>Hands.  Hands.  Someone was with her.  Susan had come.<br/>Emily couldn’t see anything, or say anything, but through the haze she could feel the hands.  A voice had said her name, then it was just the hands, caring and strong, decisive; hands that knew what she needed.<br/><br/><br/>She faded again.