Alex Shelley was making progress, but it was slow and unsteady. He'd enlarged several holes for air, but that was about it. Every time he'd get one a few inches across, he'd run into some rebar or a block of concrete that he couldn't move or dig around. It was getting more frustrating by the moment. It still nagged at the back of his mind that he hadn't heard another human voice in over two hours.
"Is there anybody out there? Please, I'm trapped and I can't get out!" His voiced strained, almost hoarse. "Chris... somebody... anybody!"
There was no reply. The only noise he heard was dripping water from a busted pipe somewhere. Alex lay back and covered his eyes with his arm, willing the tears that so desperately wanted to flow not to. He had never felt this alone in his life.
...
Max's wrestling career was over. Big Sexy and the Enigma freed his hand, but it was obvious that every bone in it was broken and the hand itself had been compressed to a thickness of less than half normal. It looked cartoonish, like Wile E. Coyote had got it caught in a bear trap, but it was not a pretty sight at all.
"Have you seen anyone else?" Max asked
"Not a soul." Jeff replied "How about you?"
"I was just getting ready to grab a quick shower before going on." Max replied "Where's Nickie? Where's my brother?"
"Easy, kid. We just told you that we haven't seen anyone else." Kevin answered "Jeff, give me your shirt. I wanna wrap his hand up."
"Just relax." Jeff took off the garment. "Won't it get infected? There's a lotta shit on that."
The look Kevin gave Jeff said that infection was the least of Max's worries at the moment.
"This may hurt a little." Kevin tore Jeff's shirt into strips and started wrapped the badly damaged limb.
"What were you supposed to be doing tonight?" Jeff asked Max, taking his mind hopefully away from the pain.
"I had a singles match against Chris Sabin." Max answered, wincing every time the wrap was tightened. "Continuing the feud and all that." He stuck his good hand in his mouth and bit down to stifle a loud moan.
"Just breathe. Kev's almost done." Jeff held his hand.
"One more piece oughtta do it... there we go. Good as almost new." That was a total lie, but at least Max didn't have to spend the rest of their time looking at it.
"Then let's get the hell outta here." Max stood, with a little assistance from both Jeff and Kevin. "We gotta find Nickie."
"Where was he last time ya saw him?" Jeff asked
"He was going to catering." Max answered "We are gonna find him, right?"
"Of course we are." Kevin answered "It might take some time, but we'll give it our best."
...
Just as Ken had predicted, his command to not move his ankle had gone unheeded by his body. He'd make good progress for ten minutes, but then have to stop and rest for twenty because he'd turn his leg even an inch and the pain from his ankle would shoot right through him, leaving him on the brink of passing out.
There's got to be an easier way to do this.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Looks like the rat got caught in his own little trap."
"AJ Styles. Of all the people in this company not to get flattened by a falling block of concrete, it would have to be you." Ken would've been willing to gnaw his own leg off to get away from Styles.
"Only just. We were all in Flair's locker room. As far as I know, Flair is still trapped. I'm trying to find out if anyone else survived..." Who this 'we' was, Ken could've cared less, particularly because of who it was talking.
"Well, now you know." Ken responded "So you can go back and tell him that Mr. Anderson is still alive and as soon as I free myself, you're all in for it."
"Maybe I won't offer to help you, then." AJ stepped on the pile. "Maybe I'll leave you to free yourself and find someone who won't be such an asshole. You seem to be well on your way."
Ken sneered. "Just like you, Styles. Self-aggrandizing as always." He tugged and grunted in pain. "Fuck."
"If I help you, will you help me?" Styles squatted down beside Ken, looking one hundred percent serious in the request.
"Do what exactly?" Ken asked. Better not to mention that his ankle was shattered until he knew a bit more about Styles' motive.
"You have people who need help rescuing and so do I."
A thought of Jeff flashed through Ken's mind. Would he ever see his little man alive again?
Was working with a man he truly despised worth it?
"Deal." Ken sighed "Now get this fucking thing off me."
"I knew you'd see it my way."
...
"Air traffic is completely shut down over Orlando and the Tampa Bay area. We have not been given clearance to resume operations... of any sort, commercial or private."
Matt had been on the phone, trying to arrange some sort of transportation arrangements to get into Orlando, but that was proving to be impossible. Nothing was flying in or out of the affected zones.
"How about Miami?" Matt demanded, losing what little patience he had. "Or Jacksonville or Daytona Beach, for that matter."
"Hold for one moment and I'll see what we have available."
Matt sighed. Still not being able to reach either of his brothers and having no other information than what the television told him was pushing him to the breaking point.
"Are you still there, Mr. Hardy?"
"Where else would I be?"
"The Miami airport was damaged, but a limited number of flights are getting in. That might be your best bet."
"Thank-you. One last question... would it be easier to find a commercial flight or a private charter?"
"Right now, a private plane would have a better chance of getting clearance."
"Thanks again." Matt replied
"My pleas..."
Matt shut the phone off in mid-word. Now all he needed to do was find a charter flight, or better yet, a private jet to take him down to Miami. That would at least get him within a couple hundred miles of where he needed to be.
"Any luck?"
Matt looked up. He was surrounded by the Smackdown roster, most of whom seemed eager to help.
"Miami's open." He replied "After that, I gotta drive."
"Why are you just standing there... get your ass in gear!" Mark growled
"Any one know a number for a private charter service?" Matt asked hopefully.
A lot of head shaking, and Matt's shoulders fell.
"Why don't you talk to Stephanie? Maybe she can give you loan of the corporate jet? Assuming she's still in the building..."
Matt took off, running. "Stephanie!" He shouted "Stephanie!"
...
After splitting from Jeff, Rob had finally returned to where he and Jeff had stepped out of their little love-nest. There wasn't a whole lot of debris nearby. The tornado had cut through this part of the arena with almost surgical precision, depositing most of it further away.
"Is there anyone who can hear me?" Rob shouted, then stopped to listen for a reply. He waited five minutes, then when he heard nothing, walked further and repeated the process. Occasionally, he thought he heard something, but could never really pinpoint it. He plodded onward, getting more discouraged with the passing minutes, and always feeling that maybe he and Jeff were the only two survivors.
He wasn't. Alex had heard him during a break. His arms were absolutely throbbing and he was running out of movable debris. He'd dig for five minutes, sometimes less, then have to rest.
"Is there someone out there?" Alex shouted back, hoping that his ears hadn't been playing tricks on him. "Please... I'm trapped."
Alex waited for a reply. When he thought that he had been hearing things, he was startled out of his skin.
"Is there someone in there?" Rob stuck his head right by the opening. "Alex, is that you?"
"Robbie! Thank God!" Alex wept tears of joy. "Can you get me outta here? I've been digging for hours and my arms are so sore."
"Gimme a minute." Rob stepped back and surveyed the pile. "I think so. Are you caught on anything under there?"
Alex moved his arms and legs. Nothing seemed to be snagged. "I don't think so." He replied
"Good. I think I can move most of this real easily, but I may need you to push from the bottom when I say. Just rest until then." Rob began to throw bricks and small chunks of concrete aside, working speedily to free Alex before anything else happened.
Several hundred feet away, AJ had almost freed Ken, when he discovered Ken's little secret.
"Looks busted to me." He said
"That's what I thought." Ken responded
"Just how do you propose to help me? Or were you?" Styles yelled "Never mind, let's see if I can find something to prop you up with. Wait here."
"Where the hell else would I go?" Ken asked
AJ wandered deeper into the disaster zone, looking for something to use as a support, but not really caring if he found one. His whole point was to get back to where Flair was, and hopefully find him alive. Beer Money was still missing in action.
...
"What exactly are you looking for?" Max asked. No sooner had he, Jeff, and Big Sexy exited the ruined shower area, then Jeff had started tearing into the lockers that were still standing.
"Imma hafta rescue her." Jeff mumbled
"Who? These two are goners." Kevin took a quick look at the two bodies sprawled out. "Hopefully it was quick, 'coz it sure doesn't look like it was painless."
"Open, you stupid thing." Jeff tugged at the door to the locker he'd used earlier that evening. Even without a lock, the door still refused to yield. "C'mon motherfucker, move!" He tugged violently. When the door suddenly snapped open, Jeff flew across the room, landing almost on top of the two bodies. He screamed, and jumped into Nash's arms.
"Easy." Kev set him down gently. "Haven't you ever seen a dead body before?"
"Of course." Jeff answered, quickly turning away.
"Could you please tell me why we're still standing around and not anyplace else but here? Maybe, y'know, looking for people." Max demanded
"'Cause I hasta find her." Jeff ran back to where he was and started digging through stuff.
Max looked at Kevin, as if to ask him to talk some sense into Jeffro. Kevin just shrugged.
"Ya know. If you told us what you were looking for, we could maybe help you."
"Fine." Jeff told them.
"You're kidding, right?" His facial expression could not accurately convey what Kevin was thinking. "Instead of looking for survivors of this catastrophe, we're hunting for a stuffed rabbit?"
"If you don't wanna help, fine. Imma find her myself." Jeff huffed "Even if it takes me all day."
...
Matt was in for two surprises, one coming right on top of each other. The first was that Stephanie was in a giving mood and the not only had she basically handed over the McMahon jet to Matt. The second one Matt discovered when he arrived at the hangar. Several members of the Smackdown and Raw Rosters, including Big Show, Undertaker, and John Cena were already aboard.
"What are you..."
"You think you're gonna be able to dig through that mess by yourself, assuming you can even get in?" Mark's deep voice boomed. "WWE demolitions is at your service."
Show cracked his knuckles, looking ready for business.
"We were just waiting for you and the pilot and we're off."
"Does Stephanie know?" Matt asked
"I'm sure she'll figure it out. Now sit down and let's rock!" Cena replied
Matt strapped himself in beside John, the words to express his gratitude stuck in his throat.
"If two of my brothers were missing like that, I'd hope for a little help from my friends." John said "And it's not just 'cause I gotta thing for Tom, either."
Matt looked over, relief in his eyes. "Thanks." He mouthed while the plane prepared for takeoff.
...
"Ready, A-Shell?" Rob had cleared most of the debris. All that remained was one slab of concrete, balanced precariously on four individual smaller chunks.
"As ready as I'm gonna be." Alex answered
"We're gonna be pushing it towards your feet, so get as much of your body this end." Rob stuck his fingers under the leading edge. His fingers briefly contacted Alex's. "On three."
Alex took a deep breath, scrunched as he was.
"One... two... three... push!"
They both pushed. The slab moved a couple inches.
"Again." Rob heaved mightily, and the slab moved another inch or two.
"One more should do it." Rob regripped the material as best he could. "Ready."
"Let's do this. One... two... three."
They heaved as hard as possible, the cords in their necks standing out. The slab moved six more inches, then two of the smaller chunks that were supporting the ends furthest away gave in. The entire slab dropped eight inches vertically.
"Oh fuck!" Rob screamed. "Alex! Alex!"