for someone strong and fit enough to run back and save the life of a small and terrified child.
And then Joe looked at Jessica.
And there was no choice.
‘Get Jess out of here, Tony,’ he commanded. ‘I’m going back for another look.’
‘Don’t be stupid, Joe. It’s far too dangerous.’
But Joe had already turned. He was running. Jessica saw him pause to assess the gap leading to the basement and it felt as though the wild beating of her heart was right in her throat. Joe eased himself over the edge of the gap just as a loud cracking noise split the air. It was more than a crack in a wall or ceiling now. Even as Tony dragged her clear Jessica could see that the whole portion above the gap Joe was disappearing into was coming down. Small fragments of concrete fell amidst gushes of dust. Then larger pieces like big stones. The sound built into a terrifying roar and the last thing Jessica saw as Joe’s head vanished into the gap and Tony wrenched her clear was the total obliteration of the area they had just traversed.
There was just a pile of rubble where the space had been. A thick dust cloud was billowing towards them and their safety, even as they reached the footpath outside the mall, was still dubious. A horrified crowd of emergency service personnel were watching as they ran clear. USAR 3 led the cheer as Tony and Jessica reached the safety barriers but their gazes were still locked on the mall entrance as they waited for the third figure they knew should be close behind.
Waiting for Joe.
But there was no way anyone else was going to come through that doorway.
No way at all.
IT WAS madness.
What, in heaven’s name, had made Joe move in the direction he had? To take that irreversible step back into an area that had clearly been far too dangerous to enter. Even before the USAR course, Joe’s basic safety rules had been well honed in his years of work as a paramedic. Personal safety always had to be the top priority. What use could you be to anyone if you were injured or killed yourself? But it had been too late to turn back as soon as the impulsive decision had been made.
Even as Joe had looked down the hole in the floor of the food court towards the basement car park he had been aware of the imminent collapse of the structure around him. Sliding and then jumping down into the car-park area had been the only route he could have feasibly taken. Maybe, if he could move fast enough, the basement ceiling would hold until he could find a way out. And now here he was, running for his life through a lethal rain of lumps of concrete, many of which were quite large enough to make a mockery of the protective helmet he wore.
The thought that the decision had, indeed, been a stupid one was gone as instantaneously as it had arrived. It was really no more than a background buzz, in fact, a prod of instinct that there was no time to acknowledge. The deed was done and any conscious thought now had to be directed at staying alive. Something large and heavy landed with a bang on the roof of a nearby car. Joe dived to the left, rolling over another vehicle’s bonnet and landing in a crouch between a van and a four-wheel-drive utility with a roof rack. It was the van’s height that saved him from being killed by the end of the steel girder that now fell from above. The van was crushed and if Joe had not flattened himself he would have been caught by the steel beam. His boot was caught. Joe twisted sideways, sheltering his head with his arms as he tried to pull free. Whatever was coming down on top of him wasn’t finished yet. He could hear the dreadful rumbling noise—an avalanche of destruction that was all around him and reaching the peak of a terrifying crescendo.
This was it, then. The end of his life. What had possessed him to pick such a dangerous career? Thirty-five was far too young to die. Was he about to get a flashback of those years in his final moments? The dicey times encountered during some hair-raising helicopter missions? The excitement that leisure activities like car racing had given him? The pleasure of the encounters with the various women who had briefly shared different periods of his life?
There were no flashbacks and the only woman whose face Joe could picture was Jessica McPhail. And Joe remembered why he had risked his life. Would his mother have looked like that if he’d been missing and possibly injured? No. Nobody had ever loved Joe that much. His mother would never have risked anything for him—even the prospect of a hot date. Joe couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to be loved like that and he was never going to find out. Women never stuck around—not when they knew he wasn’t interested in marriage. Or kids. Joe had grown up without anyone putting him first. He would probably die like that as well.
But not quite yet. The noise had stopped. The thick cloud of dust prevented any visibility but the silence continued. There were no ominous creaks or groans that might suggest the entire building was going to pancake down on this basement area. It had been a secondary collapse of a small portion of the mall and it appeared to be over. And Joe was still alive for the moment. Stuck, but alive.
And maybe not that stuck. Joe could move his foot inside the heavy boot. If he could reach the zipper and open it, he might be able to free his foot. The task was awkward. Well over six feet in height and solidly built, Joe’s body was not designed for contortionist activities. He was breathing heavily and aware of something sharp prodding the region of his left kidney by the time his fingers managed to make meaningful contact with the boot zipper. He pulled it down, opening the thick leather boot as far as he could. The steel cap had been squashed; by some miracle his toes appeared to have missed being crushed, but even with the zipper opened to ankle level it was no easy task to free his foot. By the time he wrenched it clear he was also minus his sock, but it felt great to wiggle his toes. They were free. He was free.
Joe pushed himself backwards until he found enough space to ease himself onto his knees. It was pitch black around him, the dust was suffocating and the only sounds he could hear were muffled and too distant to be any kind of threat. Joe remained still for a moment, taking stock of his situation. He had survived the collapse but he was now isolated from any assistance. Or was he? Joe fumbled at the belt holding his bum bag in place. The belt that his radio clipped onto. He felt along its length and then checked again with the sinking realisation that the radio was no longer there. At some point during his mad dash for safety it had fallen off his belt. The likelihood of finding it under the new layer of dust and debris surrounding him was almost nil and even if he could find it he would have no way of telling anyone precisely where he was. He had no idea what direction his flight for life had taken.
Recall of the various briefings they had been given and the maps that were always on display were not much help. The basement car park extended beneath most of Westgate Mall. He knew that one of the pedestrian tunnels was blocked because that was where Jessica’s mother had been found amongst the fatalities. And that might explain how Jessica’s son had survived. Perhaps he’d run back into the car park when a panicked group of people had desperately tried to flee in the opposite direction.
Ricky. For a moment, Joe had forgotten the reason he was now in this situation. Ricky had survived, at least up until the secondary collapse. Had he also managed to dodge the perilous rain of debris that had propelled Joe further into the car park? He’d certainly been running fast enough when Joe had spotted him through the gap in the floor. Joe pulled himself upright, using the bumper of the four-wheel-drive vehicle beside him.
‘Ricky!’ His voice sounded odd. An isolated sound in a dark and alien environment. He tried again. ‘Ricky! Can you hear me? Where are you?’
The silence was thick. The huge
