Mathew Marchand - The Martian Comic Strip
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- The mission is designed to handle sandstorm gusts up to 150 km/hr. So Houston got understandably nervous when we got whacked with 175km/hr winds. We all got in our suits and huddled in the middle of the Hab, just in case it lost pressure
- After an hour and a half of sustained wind, NASA gave the order to abort. We had to go out in the storm to get from the Hab to the MAV. That was going to be risky, but what choice did we have?
- Our main communications dish, which relayed signals from the Hab to Hermes, acted like a parachute, getting torn from its foundation and carried with the torrent. Along the way, it crashed through the reception antenna array.
- Then one of those long thin antennae slammed in to me end first. It tore through my suit like a bullet through butter and I felt the worst pain of my life as it ripped open my side. I vaguely remember suddenly having the wind knocked out of me (pulled out of me, really) and my ears popping painfully as the pressure of my suit escaped.
- The last thing I remember was seeing Johanssen hopelessly reaching out toward me.
- I awoke to the oxygen alarm in my suit. A steady, obnoxious beeping that eventually roused me from a deep and profound desire to just .... die. The storm had abated; I was face down, almost totally buried in sand. As I groggily came to, I wondered why I wasn’t more dead.
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