Phoenix Field Agent
Posts: 1,889
Joined: 11 Jan 2006
Gender: Female
Country: USA
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Season: season 3
Episode:Passages
Vehicle: Jeep
Jacket: Black leather
House: House boat
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Trapped Part Two
Rated: PG
Dazed, overcoming his initial shock and confusion from the fall, Pete fumbled and groped in the darkness for his flashlight. Once he found it he shone its dim beam, trying to orient himself to his new surroundings. He saw rotted, splintered wooden planks supporting the sides of the pit he and MacGyver had fallen into, a shattered, rusted lantern dangling from one of them.
“It looks like we’re in an abandoned mine shaft of some kind,” he said. Using the flashlight, he examined himself for injuries, finding only minor scrapes and bruises. “I’m just a little banged up, but surprisingly nothing serious. How about you, Mac? Are you all right?”
Hearing a low moan and whimper, Pete turned the flashlight in the direction of the piteous sound. Directly in the path of the beam, he saw MacGyver’s long leg. It was twisted, mangled, and misshapen, lying in an unnatural position. Its ghastly, gruesome appearance sickened him and made him feel a tremendous outpouring of sympathy for his younger friend’s more desperate condition.
“Oh my God,” he said. “Mac, I think your leg is broken.”
“No kidding,” MacGyver groaned miserably, clutching at the leg, wincing.
Pete shone the flashlight up to the surface of the hole, a small patch of blue sky visible from the opening. “We must’ve fallen at least fifty feet, if not more,” he said. “What are we going to do? How are we going to get out of here, especially with you severely injured?”
“First things first, Pete,” MacGyver said, his voice weak and filled with pain. “We have…enough supplies and gear to last us awhile, and some climbing equipment. I’m sure we can…rig something.”
“But how? How am I supposed to move you? Your leg is badly damaged.”
“You’re going to have to…make a splint and stabilize it. It’s the only way.”
Pete shivered, not wanting to think about the unpleasantness of the task. “It sure is cold in here, and dark,” he said, his breath condensing and fogging around him, ignoring MacGyver’s difficult request. “I wonder how long this mine has been here, or if anyone knows about it. Apparently not, since there weren’t any warning signs posted near the area.”
“Pete…”
“I guess I should have said I warned you about heading into the backcountry, but now is not the time to make you feel guilty about your decision.” He pounded his fist on the side of the hole in frustration and anger, knocking some dirt loose. “Damn it! This shouldn’t have happened! I should be the one who is hurt, not you! You know what you’re doing, and I’m just a burden. I’ve been a burden to you this whole trip.”
“You’re not a burden Pete. Now come on, stop stalling. You know this has to be done. If we don’t make a splint for my leg, the bones won’t mend and heal themselves properly, and I could be handicapped for life. Timing is critical. It has to be done as soon as possible.”
Pete nodded and bit his lower lip, knowing he was right but not looking forward to the excruciating pain he knew he would inflict on his friend as he performed the task.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.
MacGyver smiled slightly. “The pain with be temporary and brief,” he said. “I’m not saying I’ll enjoy it, but…I’ll live. I’ve had many broken bones before, so I’m sure I can manage. Now, come on.”
“But how? Mac, I’m not a doctor, and I’m certainly not an expert at administering first aid. I’ve never done anything like this before in my life.”
“You have to do it.”
“But what do I use?”
MacGyver craned his neck and moved as far as his incapacitated body would allow him, looking at the wooden planks on the walls of the pit. “You can use some of those boards,” he said. “Secure them to my leg with some of my climbing rope once you think the bones are set and the leg is straight enough.”
“How will I know I’ve done an adequate job?”
MacGyver looked at him, noticing the fear and insecurity in his voice. “You won’t,” he said. “That isn’t the point, though. The point is to stabilize the leg as best as you can until a doctor can examine it.”
Pete looked up at the patch of blue sky again. It seemed a great distance away, and unreachable. “Yeah, that is if we ever get out of here,” he said.
“We will, don’t worry. Let’s just take it one step at a time, what do you say? Come on, Pete. I need you to be with me on this. I need your help. If you don’t do this for me, neither of us is getting out of here. I know you’re scared and intimidated, but you can do this. I trust you. I’ll talk you through it, okay?”
Pete nodded again, reluctantly. “All right,” he said, sighing. “I guess we really have no other alternatives at this point. Tell me what to do first.”
“All right. Do you see those two loose boards right by you? I need you to break them free from the wall. They look like they’re about the right length to support my leg.”
Pete looked at them uncertainly. “What if the whole thing caves in on us if I remove them?” he asked.
MacGyver looked around the shaft again, running his hands along the sides. He felt dozens of wooden planks in various stages of deterioration, covered in damp, slimy moss. “Well, the wood in here isn’t in perfect shape, that’s for sure,” he said, “and I’m not a structural engineer by any means, but whoever built this mine shaft was well-prepared and did a decent job of securing these walls. They’ve covered with wooden bracing from all angles. I think we can risk it and sacrifice two of them. It should be safe enough.”
“If you think so,” Pete said.
“I do.”
“All right, well…here it goes.”
Gently, Pete knocked the boards loose, waiting for a cascade of dirt to pummel and bury them alive. When nothing happened, he sighed in relief.
“You were right,” he said, smiling slightly. “We should be in good shape, at least for awhile. Now what?”
“Grab a length of my climbing rope, just enough that you think you’ll need to tie the boards around my leg. Get my knife from my pocket and cut it.”
Pete reached over to grab the rope and the knife, trying to avoid disturbing MacGyver’s broken leg. MacGyver moved into a better position so he could more easily get what he needed, waiting patiently and watching as Pete dexterously cut the rope. He smiled faintly at him through his pain as he watched him work, admiring him. “See? You’re becoming skilled at this already,” he said. “You make a fine survivalist.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Pete said, smiling sheepishly. “We still have a long way to go before we find a way out of this place.”
“Yeah, but we’re making important first steps towards getting there. Now, here comes the part neither of us is looking forward to, but it has to be done. Just remember that. I need you to give my leg a good, strong tug. Are you ready?”
“No.”
“Come on, Pete.”
Pete licked his lips nervously, trembling. “All right,” he said.
“Just pull it as hard and as straight as you possibly can. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right. Okay?”
Pete nodded, wiping beads of sweat from his brow despite the chill in the shaft. “Okay…ready?”
MacGyver positioned himself. “Ready,” he said, closing his eyes tightly, bracing and preparing himself for the unbearable pain that he was about to experience. Although he had endured the agony of broken bones many times before, it never got any easier. “Pull it.”
Pete yanked on the leg as hard as he could, and MacGyver released an anguished scream, writhing in torment. Pete stopped and looked at him with tears in his eyes, not sure how much longer he could stand hurting his friend, knowing his treatment was the cause of MacGyver’s cries of distress and pain.
“Come on, Pete, you have to…pull again…pull harder…” MacGyver said, his breathing labored. “I can…feel it. The bone isn’t quite set yet. You have to…pull on it again. Please…”
Sighing and closing his eyes, hesitant, Pete tugged on the leg again, this time more gingerly.
“Pull harder!” MacGyver shouted. “Harder!”
“I can’t!” Pete shouted. “I can’t do this to you. I can’t…” he sobbed. “I’m hurting you…”
“I already told you it won’t be for long. Now pull on it, Pete, as hard as you can with as much strength as you can. I need your help on this. Please…it’s the…only way…”
Pete nodded. Brushing away his tears, he did the best he could to steel himself, trying not to hear MacGyver’s tortured screams and howls as he pulled, hearing the fractured bones snap and lock back into place. Looking down, shining his flashlight on the leg, he saw that it was almost completely straight.
“I think I did it,” he said. “I think I’ve got it! Mac, it looks like the bone is set! I did it! Are you all right? Mac?”
When he heard no response, he panicked, shining his flashlight on MacGyver’s face. His eyes were closed, and his body was limp.
“Oh no, please don’t do this to me, please,” he said, feeling for his pulse. Fortunately, he felt a weak throbbing against his fingertips, signaling that MacGyver was indeed still alive, merely unconscious, the pain becoming too intolerable for him to remain awake during the ordeal. “At least you can rest now,” he said, smiling at him affectionately, placing his hand on his forehead and brushing back his hair. “It’s over now. I’ll just wrap you up and finish it.”
He did as MacGyver had instructed him, bracing the leg on either side with the boards and binding the leg with the rope, immobilizing the limb and making it easier to eventually transport him out of the shaft without causing further damage. All throughout the remainder of the procedure MacGyver remained completely still, lost in the peaceful oblivion of unconsciousness, unaware of his pain. When Pete was done he sat back, leaning against the wall of the shaft, watching his friend sleep, his brow still slightly creased from pain. Shivering, he realized that as night fell it would get a lot colder in the shaft, so he pulled out their sleeping bags, making sure MacGyver was bundled in his, protecting him from hypothermia. He stroked his cheek.
“I hope we can get out of here,” he said. “If we do, next time we’re doing eighteen holes of golf, and I don’t care what you say.” He smiled and laughed slightly, once again leaning back against the side of the shaft, feeling exhausted, glad his friend was all right. Slowly he drifted off to sleep as the piece of blue sky above them grew dimmer and the stars emerged, becoming visible. Night had fallen, and still they were alone, trapped in the unstable depths of a mine shaft, MacGyver badly injured and no one knowing where they were or able to come to their aid, leaving them to rely only on themselves.
To be continued…
 "If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
--Henry David Thoreau
brains+brawn+beauty+personality=MacGyver
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