EVERYTHING INTENSIFIED AS OUR FOCUS NARROWED. NOBODY SAID much while the crew cleared material out of that hole faster than ever. A bucket brigade went up, passing the dirt out of the barn, hand to hand.
Several times, the digging stopped and the soldiers pounded on the door with a shovel.
“Anyone there? Ethan? Zoe?”
So far, there was no answer.
As soon as they’d cleared enough space to cut a hole, two of the crew scrambled out and another soldier climbed down with a reciprocating saw.
A couple of seconds later, the barn filled up with a grinding, squealing sound as he drilled straight in. Then he changed direction and started slicing right through the steel.
It didn’t take long. Once most of the panel was cut, the soldiers used a pry bar to pull it back into the hole, rather than letting it fall through.
Then they cleared out and two EMTs took their place. I was less than six feet away from the digging. Several more medical staff waited nearby with a crash cart and two gurneys. There were also three ambulances in the yard, and two Sikorsky helicopters with aeromedical teams waiting out on the road.
One EMT got down on his belly and crawled straight back into the dark. The other handed through a medical field kit and then followed behind.
Everyone else seemed to hold their breath at the same time. In the silence, I said a prayer.
God, let them be there. Please. Let them be okay.