Hubert nodded his head when she gave him her name. Amanda from Georgia. That was nice. Had a ring to it, and Amanda was six letters. Not as good as an even ten, but better than Georgia's seven. He didn't neglect to give her his name so much as forget to do it. It was easy to do things like that - forget social niceties - when your whole world had fallen in on itself. "No, I'm, ah - I'm not hurt," Hubert said. Bernard was hurt, but he'd lost track of him in the frenzy of the crash. "Ha - have you seen a man about this tall," he held up his hand to indicate Bernard's height, "he's - um, he's going bald, and has a - a mustache... I need to find him."
He finally stopped rubbing his hands together and dropped them to his sides instead. "He's hurt," Hubert explained to Amanda. "He could use your first aid kit." But it was too dark to go searching for him now. Hubert was afraid of the dark.