‘The principles of first aid are very easy to remember,’ the instructor had said. ‘Breath goes in and out. Blood goes round and round. Any variation on that is wrong and must be dealt with.’
The first step was to put a tourniquet on the gash in Al’s leg. A simple bandage wouldn’t cope with the flow of blood at the moment. Beck opened the first aid kit and pulled out a length of bandage, which he wrapped once around Al’s leg above the wound. Then he tied the two ends together in a simple overhand knot and looked around for what he needed next.
Tikaani was watching in fascination.
‘I need a short stick,’ Beck told him.
Tikaani just had to reach out and grab one from the dead wood surrounding the plane. He handed it to Beck. It was still a bit too long so Beck broke it over one knee and placed one of the short lengths, about fifteen centimetres long, on the knot of the bandage. Then he tied another knot over that. Finally he twisted the stick to tighten the tourniquet.
‘Wow. It’s like turning off a faucet,’ said Tikaani.
Beck took a moment to translate in his head. Americans said ‘faucet’; Brits said ‘tap’. ‘That’s the idea,’ he said with satisfaction. And sure enough, the flow of blood did slow right down, as if a tap had been turned off. It would need relieving from time to time – some blood had to get through if Al was to keep the limb – but it dealt with the immediate blood loss. ‘Could you hold the stick steady?’
And while Tikaani did that, Beck tied a final strip of bandage over it to hold it in place. Then he grinned up at the other boy. ‘Not squeamish, are you?’
Tikaani was a little pale but Beck could understand that. He met Beck’s gaze. ‘Apparently not.’
‘Good.’
Beck used the scissors in the first aid kit to cut Al’s clothes away from the wound. Finally he could see the gash properly. It was a good eight centimetres long, and deep. He wasn’t sure what had made it – maybe something jagged from the shattered instrument panel. It started just above the knee and headed up from there. The blood was dark red and oozing. It was thickening, trying to coagulate and form a scab like a normal cut, but there was just too much of it.
Beck studied the cut as closely as he could without touching it. He was painfully aware that this was not a sterile environment and he didn’t have any medical gloves. The last thing he wanted to do was introduce infection into the wound.
A tinkling sound of metal on glass caught his attention. The kit included a small bottle of disinfectant and a pair of tweezers. Tikaani was dipping the tweezers into the disinfectant.
‘The wound must be clear of all debris, including dirt, dead skin and flakes of clotted blood,’ Tikaani said, as if reciting something. ‘Use tweezers sterilized with the disinfectant solution.’
‘How did you know that?’ Beck asked.
Tikaani grinned and nodded down at the box. ‘There’s instructions inside the lid. Here.’ He passed the tweezers to Beck, who took them carefully, making sure he didn’t touch the disinfected part.
‘Thanks. We’re going to need some water too.’
‘I saw a bottle inside. Wait there a moment.’
Well, I’m not going anywhere . . . Beck thought as Tikaani clambered back inside the plane. He checked the wound again. It was fairly clear of debris but he still picked out a couple of blood clots and what looked like a bit of fabric from Al’s trousers.
Tikaani was back with the bottle of water. ‘Plus I got these,’ he said. He dropped an emergency medical blanket and one of the seat cushions onto the ground. ‘The lid says he should be kept warm against shock.’
‘Never argue with the lid,’ Beck agreed.
Tikaani slid the cushion under Al’s head while Beck carefully poured more of the disinfectant straight into the wound. Tikaani hissed and winced with sympathy. Beck felt it too. He knew how much disinfectant could sting a simple cut; this would really be hurting Al, if Al was awake. The wound was as clean as it was going to get. He took the water from Tikaani and poured some over to rinse off the disinfectant.
‘It’ll just cause irritation if we leave it,’ he explained as he handed the bottle back.
Finally he unwrapped a piece of gauze and got Tikaani to spread antibiotic cream on one side. Then Beck pressed the gauze onto the gash, cream side down, and tied it in place with more bandage wrapped around Al’s leg. The sterile white fabric stained red immediately, but by and large the blood was now staying inside, just as the instructor had ordered.
‘We can’t just leave him on the ground,’ Tikaani pointed out. He waved a hand around. ‘This is tundra. There’s permafrost a few inches down. He’ll freeze.’
‘Yup.’ Permafrost meant that the soil was at zero degrees or below all year round. It wasn’t something to lie on for any length of time. Beck looked about and his eyes settled on one of the plane’s wings that lay nearby. ‘But we can do something about that . . .’
The plane’s wings were quite light. Between them the boys could pick them up and lay them side by side. They made a platform to lay Al on – not very comfortable, but dry and solid; better than the icy ground.
Finally they worked Al into his coat and covered him with the blanket that Tikaani had found. Beck sat back on his haunches and looked at his uncle. He had done everything he could for the man. For the moment.
‘So now what do we do?’ Tikaani asked.
Beck sighed and stood up. ‘Now we try and get out of this mess,’ he said.