Maggie-
I don't know what's going on, don't know where I am or why it's so dark, but the one thing I am sure of: something is wrong. I can't breath very well and the pain I feel is unlike anything I've ever experienced prior.
I lay on my back unmoving as I will my lungs to work, and blink through what must be layers of dust and dirt in my eyes. I faintly hear someone calling out to me, hear someone shouting my name. The voice is familiar and at first I think it is Jason. The voice shouts again, sounding increasingly desperate, and I realize it's OA. Of course it's not Jason. Jason is dead.
I think the source of the pain is coming from my stomach, but it's so all consuming that it's hard to tell. I reach my hand out gently and touch my stomach. My fingers brush against something hard and cool and comes away sticky. My brain tells me it's a pipe of some kind, but my heart can't understand, can't accept that because it's sticking out of the middle of my body. I let out a small whimper and, as I try to shift off of a rock digging into my back, I moan as the wound from the pipe sends waves of even more pain through my whole body.
"Maggie! I hear you! Where are you?" I hear OA shout. His voice is muffled, but loud and I wonder how he could have hear me. I must be louder than I thought.
I work up some strength to say something, anything, but it takes longer than I think it will which makes me wonder if he will move away too far to hear.
Somehow, I say his name. It's breathy and light, but he hears it and I sigh in relief which causes me to nearly scream as my vision goes dark around the edges and I feel like I may pass out.
"Keep making noise! I'm coming."
He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. I repeat those two words over and over in my head until I believe them. I'm starting to panic as I realize the grave danger I'm in with the wound I have. I can just make out the pipe now as my eyes become more clear and have adjusted to the almost nonexistent light.
I hardly speak the rest of the time, just every once in awhile so OA knows which direction to go. I can hear him moving things and throwing things and I wonder what happened. I can't remember anything about today other than what happened after I woke up here, but I try to put together the pieces.
I'm not sure how long it takes for OA to get close to me, but he talks a lot while he works about nothing of importance. I want to make fun of him for how out of the norm it is for him to be saying so much, but just can't make it happen. I'm getting tired. So tired. I'm cold, too, but the worst is the pain. It doesn't stop, doesn't let up. Unrelenting.
Finally, finally, he seems to be so close, asking how I'm doing. It's getting harder to breathe, but I manage to get something out.
"It's not good," I say weakly. I want to tell him I'm fine, want to say I'm better than he is, but I know that's not true, know it won't do any good.
"I know, but it's okay," he says. "I'll have you out of there soon, alright?"
He speaks with such sureness, I think maybe he does know how I'm doing though I don't know how that's possible. I see a light flash outside what seems to be a slanted wall off to my side and then the light is shining on me. I'm looking at the beam of light thinking it looks so beautiful with the particles of dust dancing in the beam, but then I hear a gasp and know something is wrong.
I look down at my stomach and see it clearly for the first time. I have lost quite a bit of blood, and I can no longer deny that there is actually a pipe sticking out of me. It is gruesome and terrifying. The anxiety and panic of all that has happened begins to weigh on me and it feels like the small area I'm stuck in gets even smaller. I think I might vomit, but I squeeze shut my eyes and breath as deeply as I can without coughing in order to fight off the panic attack.
Suddenly I realize OA has started talking again, talking way too quickly for my brain to register. My hand closes around the pipe and rests on my stomach as I will myself to think about what I know and have seen about injuries similar.
I know that removing the pipe would cause me to bleed out extremely quickly, so that's not an option right now. I know the pipe is too low to have punctured a lung so I must have other injuries that need to be addressed. I'm also still losing blood, but not fast enough that I need to be worried. Yet.
I wonder why OA hasn't moved from his spot so I look around the now space around me that is now aglow. At the same time I take in OA's rant about how there's now way in.
There's no way in. Which also means there's no way out.
Our eyes lock and he stops talking.
"I don't- what do I do?" I ask in a whisper.
I see a flash of something cross his face, but he quickly replaces it with a look of determination. It speaks to the part of me that is most afraid. Part of him, even if just a tiny part, thinks I'm going to die here. Part of me thinks that, too. But I shove that fear inside almost as quickly as he did.
"OA," I say again needing him to say something.
"I can't lift this on my own. It's part of the floor above us and is way too heavy. I have to go find help-"
"No, wait." I want to argue with him, tell him to stay, but I know he has to go find a rescue crew or other people to help him. But the part of me that doesn't want him to go is asking a very real question that I have no answer for.
"What if you can't get to me?" I hate that I'm asking, voice catching in my throat, afraid of the answer. I fight back tears that I can't let myself cry out of fear of never stopping.
I hear movement behind the wall and then the light disappears. I wonder if he already left, fleeing the question that can't be answered. But the light appears again, this time lower down. The space is a little bigger and I can just make out the edges and features of his face. It is so good to see him that I actually smile a little despite the pain and circumstances.
"Mags, listen to me. I don't know how long it's going to take me, I don't know what we will have to do to get you out, but I swear to you, I will. I will be back with help, and we will get you out."
He reaches his hand through the hole and I grab it, holding as tightly as I can, though that doesn't say much.
"You always tell me not to make promises I can't keep," I remind him, trying and failing to tease.
He smiles a little. "It will be easy to keep this promise. Don't doubt it for a second."
We both know no part of this will be easy. Anything could happen. But it's nice of him to say.
He pulls his hand back to his side and stuffs his FBI jacket through the space. "Cover up the best you can, but before you do, I need to know if the pipe is connected to the floor or if it's a separate piece that can be moved. Reach under you and tell me what you can feel."
I lift my side enough to slide my hand under me, trying unsuccessfully not to scream out. Any movement still feels unbearable, hell, not moving at all still feels unbearable, but I do it anyway. My fingers find the pipe and slide down the pipe just a few millimeters until they hit the floor. I squeeze shut my eyes in disappointment unable to confirm with OA that the pipe extends into the floor, knowing just how much harder and more dangerous this whole situation is now.
But it doesn't matter, because OA reads my face. "It's okay, Mags. You are going to be okay. Look at me!" he says when I turn away. I turn my face back to him.
"You are going to be fine. You have to be." He sounds so sure again I can't help but feel like he is probably right. He must be.
I drag his jacket over me the best I can without moving my body.
"I'll be back soon," he says confidently. "Oh, and Mags? If you decide to go and die before I get back, I'll be really pissed. The last thing I want to do is train someone new," he teases.
"Tell me about it," I manage. "I once had to train this guy straight out of Special Forces. Such an asshole. He still thinks he's funnier than me."
He laughs. "Oh, he is."
Our eyes meet again and I know he's about to leave. The thought of being alone like this is almost worse than the pain. Almost.
"Mags? Fight, okay?"
And then he's gone. I hear his feet sliding and slipping on debris until the footsteps fade away leaving me alone.
AN: Thanks to all my awesome reviewers! Meg, Say8486, Fabiana, Doranwen, Luella3132, AilanGurl, jotchLIFE, and guests, you are awesome!
I know this story will push me with research and information, but I was ready to give it a try. It has been so interesting to write thus far. And I know New York isn't a place we typically associate with earthquakes, but they do happen, and I am glad someone posted about it!
I have a huge three day conference this weekend, but will try to have another chapter posted by Sunday! Let me know what you think so far!
