Reid chokes on the air, the dust triggering an unhappy memory.
Drew. A giant stone on his chest, blood oozing out around it where it’s crushed skin and bone and organs. Gasping, wheezing breath, blood-filled coughing. Pleading eyes behind shattered glasses, begging him for help while Drew’s voice says something else.
Something about not letting the hunters eat him.
Reid’s eyes fly open and he instantly closes them again, tearing immediately from the grit swirling across his vision, the sandpaper of it harsh under his eyelids. Panic rolls across his body, rippling over his skin in a giant patch of goose flesh, lifting his limbs in a massive shudder. He flinches from it, only because of that reaction discovering he is perfectly fine. No broken bones, his body intact. In fact, through some miracle, he is merely trapped in an air pocket, with nothing but smallish stones and pebbles weighing him down.
Reid’s deep sigh of relief instantly turns to a coughing fit as the fine powder sifts down into his lungs. He shifts his face to the side, spitting out the debris and chalky air, burrowing his nose into the sleeve of his t-shirt in a poor attempt to filter out the dust. He tries to slide one arm up but there simply isn’t enough room beside him. Every time he attempts it, he meets either jagged-edged rock or splintered beams.
His feet are also useless, bobbing up and down, his toes impacting unyielding rock with every try. From what he can tell, there are hardly a few inches between the tips of his sneakers and the world above him. He continues to feel around as best he can with his eyes firmly shut while the cloying mist of powdered rock settles, taking the near dark with it. Something casts a glow on the other side of his lids.
Despite the return of a hint of light, claustrophobia eats away at his sanity.
Reid knows he can’t afford to panic. When he risks another peek at his surroundings, his worst fears are realized. He is trapped under a layer of rocks, the one over his head barely six inches from his face. A whimper escapes him before he can stop it and he is forced to lie there for a long time while his heart pounds and his mind tells him the stones are getting closer and closer despite his rational mind assuring him that isn’t the case.
Reid finally calms enough to tear his eyes away from the looming view above him and tips his chin to look down. He can see his feet, that much is good. The layers of rock overlap, keeping him safe from their crushing weight. To one side is the source of the glow, the flickering light bulb, cable uncut, the glass miraculously unbroken, resting in a pile of dust. He is safe. For how long he has no idea but in that horrible slice of time he is very grateful.
Reid drops his head back and closes his eyes again to think. He must have passed out briefly when the ceiling came down, knocked on his back. Had he been on his side or even half-twisted, he is sure his fate would be far different.
The dust has settled enough that he manages a full breath, only then realizing it’s not only his breathing he can hear. Reid turns his head the other way and looks.
Marcus stares back at him, eyes so glazed over at first Reid is sure he is dead. He is on his stomach, one arm just visible under him, hand open, palm up, fingers curled in like a dead spider. Reid is about to reach out and try to touch him, to check for signs of life, when Marcus blinks slowly, once.
It’s almost enough to make Reid freak out, like some horror movie where the hero finds out his friend is a robot or something. Not that they are friends. Not by a long shot. In fact, Reid isn’t sure if he’s happy Marcus is alive or not. But, at least he isn’t alone under all the rock.
Yes, that would definitely be worse. He’ll take Marcus over solitude this time.
“You okay?” His voice is harsh from coughing, a metallic taste in his mouth and the back of his throat. Reid fights the urge to gag and spit again.
“I think so.” Marcus doesn’t try to move but his index finger twitches, as if of its own volition. He barely speaks above a whisper, voice expressionless. “Everything seems to work.”
“Me too.” Reid stills, listens. Did he hear something? Voices. Above them. In his mind, he screams at the kids to not risk it, to go on without them. It’s foolish to attempt a rescue. But his heart leaps at the very idea of freedom and he lets it win.
“They’ll kill us if they dig.” Marcus clings to his negativity like a little kid’s blanket. Reid wishes he could reach him so he could smack him. He’s sure it won’t take long at this rate for Marcus to wear down his nerves enough to make Reid wish he was alone after all.
“Not if they’re careful.” He really has no idea but refuses to buy into anything Marcus believes if only out of pure spite. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with optimism. And until a pile of rock comes crashing down and ends it all, Reid intends to think positive. They survived didn’t they?
He’s unable to stop his mind from going to Drew. It makes his heart pound all over again, imagining that kind of pain. The pool of blood on his friend’s chest. The river of it running from the boy’s mouth, painting his braces crimson. Reid shudders, unable to help himself, and does his best to catch his panicked breath.
Something grinds overhead, sending a fine mist of dust down across Reid’s chest. His heart pounds once, twice, before settling again. The large stone over his body is obviously unstable. Reid is acutely aware that if it falls on him, he’s dead. Like Drew.
He can’t let that happen.
More grinding. Marcus whimpers softly. Reid does his best to ignore Marcus’s fear and closes his eyes. It’s easier to think without that chunk of stone staring him in the face. He has to somehow protect himself from that large rock over his abdomen if they do happen to shift it and it falls on him. It never crosses his mind that the one over his head is the biggest risk or even a broken leg or arm could very well spell the end of him. Instead he puts all his attention into supporting that one threatening stone.
In his mind, all he can think of is Drew.
The slab of rock is massive from his vantage point, as skewed as his view is, and for all he knows even bigger on the topside like some reversed iceberg ready to crush his life away. He tries wriggling to the left but he is too tightly wedged. When he slides to the right, closing the distance between him and Marcus, the young man lets out a miserable groan.
“Don’t touch me.” It’s said quietly, pitifully, making Reid shudder.
“Are you hurt?”
Marcus just groans again, mournful and deep. There’s nothing Reid can do for him at the moment, so he retreats.
New plan. By hopping and sliding his lower body a little more, he manages to tip his hips sideways just enough to draw his knees to his chest. The effort leaves him panting and his lungs begging for air as his thighs compress his ribcage. There is just enough space for him to swing over onto his back, his shins pressed to the stone above. While it makes it very hard to breathe, Reid feels a little better. It’s foolish of him to even consider he could support the weight if the stone did fall on him, but at least he’s done something.
The voices overhead seem clearer. He can hear Leila, her panic crystal clear even if her words aren’t. There is more shifting of stone, the growling, scraping noises making Reid’s heart race all over again, especially when the movements above cause more dust to fall.
“Reid!” Leila’s voice is faint but easy to make out. “Can you hear me?”
“Here!” He chokes as he tries to draw enough breath to speak past his contorted body. “We’re here!”
He doesn’t hesitate for a moment to include Marcus in the statement. Enemy or not, they are equals under the rock and will live or die together as far as Reid figures. Better to do it fighting to survive than fighting each other.
That doesn’t mean he’s willing to be friends. Or forgive Marcus for getting them into this mess in the first place.
“All your fault.” Marcus chokes and sputters before speaking again. “Stupid idea.”
He had to go and ruin it, didn’t he? Reid rapidly changes his mind. He will gladly leave the complaining, pathetic, weak and wretched guy behind. Might even loosen a rock over Marcus’s head before anyone notices in time to save him. Reid swings his face to the side to snarl something and catches a glimpse of sneakers over Marcus’s shoulder.
“There’s someone else down here. Hey. Hey! Can you hear me?” No response. Reid watches for a long moment but the feet don’t even twitch.
It’s pretty easy to figure out what that means. Still he and Marcus are still alive so Reid won’t let his hope die all together.
Marcus goes on as if he didn’t hear what Reid said or doesn’t care. “If you hadn’t talked us into coming down here, none of this would have happened.”
Reid’s anger at the accusation is so intense he flexes his legs, his shoulders sliding back over the rough stone. Something shifts above him. Shocked, the rage draining away with the patter of dust and stone, he freezes.
Marcus starts to struggle, his visible hand flipping over, palm now pressed to the floor, back straining against the rubble above him. Reid sees his face turn red, the giant vein in the middle of his forehead bulge. There is another shift in the pile. This time large chunks rain down and Reid is sure the rock above him dropped a fraction.
“Marcus, stop! Stop moving.” But Marcus won’t listen. He is like an animal, desperate for escape, fighting with all his strength even if that fight causes his own death. Reid almost lets him, but there is no way of knowing if Marcus’s battle with the rubble will also kill Reid so he has to try.
“I said stop it!” Reid reaches, manages to just get a hold on Marcus’s t-shirt collar and tugs, hard.
Tears pour down the young man’s face. “I can feel it moving. It’s working!” Marcus strains again.
Reid pulls back his hand with a shout as a large chunk of stone falls, striking Marcus on the face. It rolls to a halt, blocking Reid’s view.
“Marcus. Marcus! Can you hear me?” Nothing. Silence. But there, faint breathing, choking sighs of air. Finally, a soft moan. Alive, then. Even as the shifting of rock above them goes on and on.
After a few tries, Reid is able to hook the stone with his fingers. It’s just barely within his reach, his leverage a ghost of touch. With pain staking slowness, he manages to slide it out of the way. And breathes a sigh of relief. Marcus is passed out, but Reid’s searching hand finds a pulse on his neck before collapsing himself. It’s true then. He’s not alone down here just yet.
The sneakers glare at him like an accusation and Reid has to look away.
Lying there in the dull light, the dust settled around him, his only companion unconscious and possibly dying for all Reid knows, he struggles yet again with his terror. He has to tell himself over and over that the others are coming for him, they are almost to him. Any second now.
And then, the inevitable, but the worst thing that could happen to him.
A soft rain of rocks fall, glass shatters and sparks hiss as the light goes out.
A horrible, aching shriek rises in his throat, squeezing his chest and lungs, driving a primal spike of terror through his head, pinning him to the floor for a long moment of loss. The dark and the closeness and the rocks are sliding in to crush him slowly, to choke out the last of his air.
There is barely any oxygen left, the last of it panting in and out of his desperate lungs. His head swims, pulse overloading in answer. Reid scrabbles at the dirt beside him, fighting for purchase, his knees driving against the rock above him. He has to get out, has to, can’t take this any longer, please, please, please!
White stars flash in the dark, sparkling across his vision. His limbs fall suddenly heavy. He can’t push any more, can’t fight. His hands twitch and go still. Reid feels stickiness under his fingertips and a sharp pain in his lower back but everything is wavery and fading, going hazy around the edges. Even the sparkles have gone dim.
Out of air. Out of time. Game over. He manages one soft giggle as his mind finally lets go. He notices the shifting rock sounds have stopped, the voices silenced. They’ve left him behind, then. Fair enough. He will drift here until unconsciousness takes him, too.
Not a bad death, in the end. At least the hunters won’t get to—
don’t let them eat me
eat him.
Reid’s eyelashes flutter as something passes over them. He feels a soft touch on his face, like butterfly wings. And when he breathes his last breath, his lungs fill with cool, fresh air.
His eyes open. Leila wavers above him, her voice muted, coming in and out as his oxygen deprived brain returns to function.
“Reid,” she says.
“Hi, Leila.” He is smiling, though his face doesn’t seem to work perfectly just yet so it’s rather lopsided.
Something wet falls on his cheek and he sees now she is crying and laughing all at the same time.
“You didn’t quit.” He sighs, closing his eyes.
“Never,” she whispers, her words reaching him as he passes out. “I’ll never leave you behind again.”
***