Ray threw up, he couldn't help it. The sight of one of his colleagues, one of his friends in that state was too much. Which was not good considering he was lying flat on his back and the vomit had nowhere to go. He began to choke, his body arched violently as he tried to dislodge it, his eyes became wide. Christ, how could he survive an explosion only to die by choking on his own sick? But he was going to; no one was there to help him with Pratt being dead. Ray's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he coughed, struggling to breathe.
Suddenly, as if it by a miracle, a figure scrambled through a small hole in the rubble and sprawled into the dingy cave like area. She picked herself up and Ray recognised her.
"Neela!" he wheezed. Neela's ears pricked up at the sound and then she saw the writhing body of Ray on the floor. She gasped.
"Ray!" she dived down beside him, scattering debris all about, "What's wrong?!" She realised that the young resident was coughing and spluttering. "You're choking!" Swiftly Neela tipped Ray's head back and stuck two fingers down his throat causing him to gag even more but fortunately she managed to scoop the vomit out of his airway. The man managed to draw in a life saving deep breath.
"Oh my god, Ray!" Neela, once he had regained regular breathing, grabbed him and hugged him tightly, "You're ok!"
"Yeah, just," Ray smiled weakly, "But…Pratt..." He gestured behind Neela and she turned round, letting out a small scream when she saw the unmoving body of Greg.
"Greg!" she darted forwards and felt for a pulse knowing full well, with the obvious injury he had, that he couldn't have survived. Tears streamed down her face and she slumped back on her haunches.
"Neela, it's too late," Ray whispered and she whipped round to face him.
"Why didn't you help him?!" she looked furious and Ray frowned.
"In case you haven't noticed I'm kinda stuck here! D'you think I would've lain here if I wasn't and watched my friend die?! Or remained on the floor to choke on my own sick? Do you?!" the man shouted but stopped suddenly as a wave of pain shot through him and he cried out in agony. Neela's hand flew to her mouth and she climbed over to where he was. How could she have been so stupid? Why didn't she think there must be a valid reason that Ray was lying on his back just after an explosion?
"I'm sorry," Neela said, looking up and down Ray's length for any injuries. It was then she noticed his crushed legs and she gasped.
"They're pretty bad aren't they?"
"Yes…I mean no….they're gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine," Neela scanned the rest of his limbs but found nothing out of place. She returned her gaze to his legs. They were pretty mangled. She couldn't even see the lower part of his legs under the rubble. His thighs were grazed and torn, blood dripping steadily from several gashes. What she did see though, as she moved a piece of brick made her stomach lurch. A jagged end of Ray's broken femur stuck out from his flesh. The ragged wound looked extremely painful and Neela looked at Ray's face to see what his reaction would be to her touching it lightly. He jerked in agony and he drew in a sharp intake of breath.
"Is it broken?" he asked. Neela nodded mutely, concentrating on her examination.
"Great," Ray sighed, "D'you know what happened?"
"No," Neela replied, not looking up.
"I think it was a gas explosion," the resident announced.
"Maybe," Neela gently pushed on the bone and Ray yelped, "Sorry."
"S'ok," Ray said, his face contorted in pain, "When do you think we're gonna get out of he…?" His question was interrupted as there was a sudden ominous crack from the floor below them, "What was that?"
"I don't know," Neela also looked worried, fear clear in her brown eyes. The ground creaked again and there was a snap. Suddenly, the ground beneath them groaned and fell in.
Abby stared at the wreckage. She had no way of getting in to help Joe and Luka now the entrance had collapsed. She couldn't bear to think what had happened to them. Her baby was inside that rubble and she could do nothing to help him. What kind of mother was she? But she had no choice; she knew that, she could only hope that Luka was keeping their child safe.
"Abby," a voice moaned from behind her and she turned round to see Morris staggering towards her, a deep laceration on his head, "Can you help me?"
"Where have you been?" she hurried over and took his bloodied hand away from his head to get a better look.
"Behind that rig," Archie gestured wildly around him.
"Right," Abby nodded, concerned he may have concussion, "Morris, can you tell me where we are?"
"Sure, we're at County and it went kaploof!" the man threw his arms in the air.
"Kaploof? Ok, I guess that's not much different from usual," the doctor shrugged and checked the tender skin.
"Man, this place is gonna need a paint job," Morris commented, clearly delirious.
"Why couldn't you have died?" Gates came up beside them, sighing.
"That's not very nice, Gates, I love you too," Morris replied.
"What's this guy on?" Gates looked scared as Archie leaned on him making puppy dog eyes.
"He's got mild concussion so leave him alone," Abby answered, pointing at Tony.
"Alright, Doc," Gates grinned.
"How can you be all smiles when half our colleagues are stuck inside there?"
"Someone has to keep up the moral," the intern shrugged and sauntered off.
Lucien blinked rapidly as his eyes opened and he sat up slowly. He looked around him but everything was hazy and he realised he'd lost his glasses. Feeling around him with his hands he tried to find them but flinched and withdrew as a piece of glass embedded itself in his palm. The man looked at his blurry limb but couldn't see it well enough to remove the offending object.
It was then that he recalled what had happened. He had just talked to Dustin and was preparing to go into surgery when the floor had given way. He remembered vaguely seeing Crenshaw disappear over the edge. What had happened to him?
Carefully, the surgeon rose gingerly to his feet and found that, thankfully, none of his limbs were badly damaged. He stumbled a bit as he shuffled across the rubbish strewn floor and headed for the hole that he'd seen Dustin fall into. Peering cautiously into dark pit he couldn't really see anything except a few vague outlines and that wasn't just because of his lack of glasses. The dust rising from all the fallen ceiling was immensely thick and caused Lucien to cough violently.
Stepping back slightly he heard a crunch and sighed when he realised what he'd stood on. His glasses. Bending down he warily felt the floor and found his shattered glasses. He picked them up and inspected the lenses. One side was completely smashed, the side he'd stood on, but the other was still intact. He pushed them onto the bridge of his nose and found he could see reasonably well. Lucien attempted to look for Crenshaw again.
In the clearing dust he could make out a pile of rubble below and he looked closer to see if there was any sign of his fellow surgeon. It was then he spotted the single arm sticking out of the debris, streaked with scarlet blood. It was flexing spasmodically and Lucien couldn't tell whether that was reflex or whether the person was asking for help. He also couldn't work out if it was Dustin or not.
Scrambling to the edge he slithered down on a loose slab that was still attached to the remaining ceiling which acted as a slide. Dubenko made it to the lower floor with some difficulty and landed beside the twitching hand. He began to move the bricks.
Alex leant over the prone man and slapped him, hard. "Wake up!" he demanded. Frank didn't respond other than to roll over slightly and groan. "Wake up dammit, you stupid old man!" Frank remained unconscious. Alex was getting desperate, he didn't like being stuck in there with no one to look after him, he needed an adult and Frank was the only one there.
When the ceiling had collapsed a lot of it had fallen on the admit desk and it was a miracle they'd survived. The problem was that the slab of ceiling had formed a sort of lid on the desk and Alex couldn't work which way was out with no light. It was very unnerving.
The boy gulped and hit Frank again. The ex-cop's eyes stayed closed. Alex felt tears stream down his cheeks. His face hurt from where the fierce flames had burnt him mercilessly and his chest felt tight and constricted. He guessed it was from too much smoke inhalation. He wondered if he would ever get out alive. Would he ever see his mom again? He promised that if he got out of this mess then he would never disrespect her again.
A small baby cried out, feeling lost and scared. He wanted to be safe in his mother's arms again, warm and comfortable. But at the moment he was trapped under the dead weight of his dad with no way of letting anyone know he was there. No matter how much he wailed no one heard the child's distraught cries above the chaos outside.
Mwhahaha! I'm so evil! I'm sorry about that! Poor Joe! Anyway, to save him...REVIEW! Wow, I sound like one of those presenters on those singing shows where you have to keep them in till the end. How bout I kill each person off one by one? What d'you think to that?