There wasn't any warning. No creaks or cracks. I was moving forward, with my eyes on the damaged floor ahead of me when I was knocked down in a shudder of collapsing material. The rigid hood of the Hazmat helmet protected my face, and the material of the suit was designed to take a lot of punishment, but there was damned little it could do about the concrete and rebar falling down around me. There was a sharp pain in my back, and everything went gray.
I don't think I was out for long. Maybe a few harsh breaths. But there was out, and there was out. I lay there, under what felt like a ton of rubble, stunned. It was a wheezing, rattling sound that brought me out of the funk. I knew it meant trouble, and I came to my senses trying to get to my feet. Bad idea.
There was this hot pain in my back any time I moved. I lay still panting, trying to take stock. I experimented with flexing various muscles, and was relieved to find that for the most part, I was just battered and bruised. There was something going on in my left hand, but it didn't seem major.
In taking stock, I discovered it wasn't so much my back as my butt. There was something sharp, and it had penetrated the suit, and gone into the muscle in my rear by about one to two inches.
I carefully moved my hand around, shedding crumbling bits of concrete, and felt for whatever it was. Even through the thickness of my glove, I could feel the ridges of the rebar. An experimental tug didn't move the metal one bit, but the accompanying muscle reaction in my rear sent a wave of nausea through me.
My attention was drawn back to the wheezing noise I had heard earlier. It was coming from somewhere to my right, and in a sudden burst of terrifying lucidity, I knew it was the respirator on my brother's suit.
"Virgil…" I called out, but my own respirator had already given up the ghost, and in drawing that breath to call, I had sucked in the fine dust in the air. I spent the next few precious moments coughing. Each cough brought more pain from the metal in my back, and I found I had to fight off the gray that wanted to drag me down into unconsciousness as well as the hacking coughs.
I finally got it under control, to a point that I was breathing in shallow pants. It was pitch black around me, and I couldn't see a thing, but I knew my brother was in desperate trouble. He never answered my call, and there was no way he wouldn't have if he could have.
I tried reaching out in the direction of the wheezing respirator, but I couldn't even fully extend my arm before I hit an obstruction that I couldn't reach around. I had to think. I had to figure this out. We were alone, and there was nobody coming to rescue us. I didn't know how much of our forty-minute safety margin had passed, but there couldn't be much time left.
The steel rebar in my back was angled, pointing toward my feet. I tried to push myself back that way in the hope that I could pull myself off, but there was no give in the debris behind me or under me. I was pinned like a damned bug on a board. The only thing I achieved with the attempt was more pain, more time lost to graying out, more blood loss.
I could feel myself weakening. The blood loss was becoming a problem. I snorted to myself. Yeah, the blood loss is a problem, and the rest of it is nothing. It dawned on me that I might not make it out of this. Just the thought made me struggle all the more, but it was no use. The steel was immovable. The debris was immovable. And me? I could wiggle, and that was it. I lay there panting, trying to think, to plan. I started to fade out, and I had to force myself not to close my eyes.
I couldn't give up. I mean, if I gave up, what would happen to Virgil? "Virgil? Virg? Wake up, Virg, you gotta get up!"
I listened for any response, but the only thing I heard was that damn respirator finally pack it in. I was getting desperate, but for the moment, I worked to control my breathing enough so I could hold my breath. After a few moments, I took in some air, and held it. I strained to hear any sound from my brother. It was hard, because the blood had started pounding in my ears, but I may have heard a gasp or two.
Oh God, this was a stupid way to die. I struggled again, trying to push myself back, trying to get the rebar out. The gray came over me in a rush, and I stopped struggling.
I opened my eyes again when I heard something. I don't know what it was, but it pulled me out of the gray funk. It was strange, because where before it had been pitch black, now there was light.
I moved my head a bit, and I could see a bright warm light some ten feet away. It had a misty quality, and I felt myself yearn toward it. It was hard to breathe, my back felt like it was on fire, but I felt this sense of peace when I looked to the light.
Is this what death is like? I hadn't thought I was hurt that bad. Geez, maybe I bled out. Or could I have been out long enough for the radiation to kill me? It seemed like just a momentary black out, but would I even know? And weren't there supposed to be angels and stuff?
I wondered if I'd get to meet my mom. I'd never had a chance to know her, but my older brothers all said she was wonderful. Maybe Grandpa would be there. Almost as if my thoughts had drawn them, there were suddenly figures all in white coming through the light.
One of them came toward me, and the other moved to my right. I felt immense sadness that they were coming for Virgil too. The first figure knelt by me, a halo of white light around the head keeping me from making out the features. I wanted to say something but it was too hard to breathe, and the blood loss made me feel all weak and washy.
Uh… wait… isn't the pain supposed to go…. Ah, crap! That hurt! I tried to pull away from the figure, and only succeeded in graying out again.
