started.
Where to start...
‘We’re going into the car park.’ Kev had been supervising the final stages of freeing the senior cits and he was now staring out at the flattened roof of what had been the undercover parking lot. It was a mass of flattened sheets of corrugated iron and the remains of concrete pillars.
‘How the hell did that collapse?’ Luc muttered, awed.
‘Minimal strength pillars,’ Kev commented. ‘Concrete that looks like it’ll last for ever but turns to dust. The plane’s gone in across the top and they’ve come down like dominoes.’
‘Any idea how many under there?’
‘We hope not many.’ At Luc’s look of surprise he shrugged. ‘Tuesday’s not a busy shopping day. It’s too late for after-school shopping, too early for the place to be closing. Most were either in the plaza itself or had gone home. The locals pulled a couple out from the edges but there’s reports of a few missing. Don and Louise Penbroke, mah-jong players extraordinaire, had just left the café when it hit. Bill Mickle, a local greyhound racer. One of the local docs...’
‘A doctor...’ It shouldn’t make a difference. It didn’t, but still...
‘Young woman doctor, works at the clinic,’ Kev told him. ‘Just picked her kid up from childcare. Her driver was supposed to meet her at the entrance—he’s yelling to anyone who’ll listen that she’s trapped under there. So that’s four definites but possibly more. Hell, I wish we could get those car alarms off. To be stuck underneath with that racket...they won’t even hear us if we yell.’
* * *
Her world was spinning in tighter circles where only three things mattered. Taking one breath after another. That was important. Cradling Toby’s small warm body. If he wasn’t here, if she’d dropped him, if she couldn’t feel his deep, even breathing, she’d go mad. And the pain in her leg...
But she would hold on. If she fainted she might drop Toby. He might crawl away. He was her one true thing and for now she was his.
Dear God, help...
Please...
* * *
The firefighters were lifting one piece of iron after another, working with infinite care, taking all the trouble in the world not to stand where people might be lying underneath, not to cause further falls, not to cause dust that might choke anyone trapped.
They found Don and Louise Penbroke first. The third sheet of iron was raised and the elderly couple looked like the pictures Luc had seen of petrified corpses from Pompeii, totally still, totally covered, the only difference being they were covered in concrete dust and not ash.
But as the first guy to reach them touched a debris-coated shoulder there was a ripple of movement. Still clutching each other, the couple managed to sit up. Louise had her face buried in Don’s chest and Don’s face was in Louise’s thick white hair.
Within seconds Luc had their faces cleared. They still clutched each other, their eyes enormous.
‘Th-thank...’ Don tried to speak but Luc put his hand on his shoulder and shook his head. And smiled.
‘You two should thank each other. That’s the best way to survive I’ve seen. What hurts?’
But amazingly little did. They’d been by the ramp leading up to the car park, protected by the concrete sides. They were both shocked but fine.
One happy ending.
A couple of the firies steered them out into the afternoon sunshine where they were greeted with tears and relief.
The firies—and Luc—worked methodically on.
There had to be some way to turn those damned car alarms off, Luc thought. There were fractions of time between the blaring but never enough to call and receive a warning.
At least batteries were starting to fail. The barrage of sound was lessening.
Another sheet came free.
Hell.
This guy hadn’t been so lucky. A sheet of iron had caught him. He’d have bled out almost instantly, Luc thought, and wondered how many others were to be found. They were waiting for proper machinery to search the crumpled part of the plaza itself. How many...?
And then...a cry?
The sound was from their left, heard between car sirens.
Kev demanded instant stillness. The sound had come from at least three sheets of iron across. If they went for it, they risked crushing others who lay between.
They waited for another break in the alarms. Kev ordered his team to spread out to give a better chance of pinpointing location.
‘Call if you can hear us?’ Kev yelled.
‘H-here.’
A woman’s voice. Faint.
A roofing sheet was pulled up, the rubble lifted with care but with urgency. It revealed nothing but crushed concrete. These pillars were rubbish.
Someone’s head would roll for these, Luc thought. They looked as if they’d been built with no more idea of safety standards than garden statuary.
He was heaving rubble too, now. By rights he should be out on the pavement, treating patients as they were brought to him, but with the local doctor working in the nearby hospital he’d decided the urgent need was here. If there was something major the paramedics would call him back.
All his focus was on that voice. That cry.
‘Stop,’ Kev called, and once again he signalled for them to stand back and locate.
And then... The voice called again, fainter.
This area held the worst of the crushed concrete. Sheets of roofing iron had fallen and concrete had crumpled and rolled on top. They were working from the sides of each sheet, determined not to put more weight on the slab.
‘Please...’ The sirens had ceased again for a fraction of a moment and the voice carried upward. She must be able to hear them. She was right...here?
Others had joined them now, hauling concrete away with care. Half a dozen men and women, four in emergency services uniforms, two burly locals, all desperate to help.
‘Reckon it’s the doc.’ One of the locals spoke above the noise. ‘Hell, it’s the doc. We gotta get—’
His words were cut off again by the car alarms, but the urgency only intensified.
And finally the last block of concrete was hauled clear. The sheet of iron was free to be shifted.
Willing hands caught the edges. Kev was there, taking in the risks, assessing to the last.
‘Lift,’ he said at last. ‘Count of three, straight up...’
And
