AUTHORS NOTE: For folks reading along in real time, Mia culpa, I goofed. I have made a small fix to a previous chapter (27) for continuity and plausibility's sake. After Steve got out of the hand cuffs, he switched on the dome light in the car, making it much easier to see. Once again, thanks for coming along for the ride.
As the dust settled, Mike grabbed Steve's around the knees.
Before he tried to yank his best friend out of danger, Talbot called out, "Hang on, Mike! Let's try to get some of this dirt off of him before we start pulling. There's no way to know how much weight is on him and we might do more harm than good."
As desperate as he was, Mike saw the wisdom in what Talbot was saying. The Marshal leaned over the front seat and began frantically scooping dirt with both hands. With a growing sense of dread, Mike leaned in and did the same. Both men were soon panting and sweating.
To Mike's thinking, the process was taking too long. "Enough, we gotta get him out now!" he finally said.
"Ok, but easy does it. Let me grab him around the middle while you pull his legs. On three."
After the three count, they began to wrest Steve from his earthen cocoon. After his torso slipped free, he seems to hang up on something.
"Stop! Mike yelled. Let me change my angle." He straddled his partner's body with a knee on each side and reached towards the window, locking his arms around Steve's waist. "Okay, again on three."
With one last effort, they managed to pull Steve in through the window and sit him up with his back to the driver's side door.
"Is he breathing?" Talbot asked.
The question became moot when Mike attempted to bring his young partner's arms through the window and down to his sides. Steve let out a blood-curdling scream.
"What's wrong?" Mike shouted. He was elated and concerned all at the same time.
"Shoulder." Steve gasped.
Talbot leaned over the seat and looked at the misshapen joint. "Looks like he dislocated the right one."
Mike didn't care, although he knew Steve was in pain. The sound of that familiar voice told him all he wanted to know. His friend was alive. Relieved, Mike backed off of his knees and sat heavily on the passenger side.
Everyone in the car was still for a moment, savoring a temporary victory over death. Their situation had not really changed, they were still trapped. For the time being, however, the fact that they were all breathing was enough.
Eventually, Mike turned and took a good look at his batter companion. Through the heavy layer of dirt, he could see that Steve was scratch, scraped and bruised. There was a long slice on his left arm, that peeked out of an equally long tear in his now bloody shirt. Another gash started high on his cheek and disappeared into a sludge of blood and dirt caking his week-old beard. Without looking, Mike was sure Steve's hands were raw from digging.
"Even in this light, you look terrible." Mike said quietly.
Steve's breathing had begun to even out, but he still struggled to speak. "Gee thanks." He managed to gasp out. "Next time we get buried... alive... you do the digging... OK... One cave-in per lifetime... plenty." He punctuated the last word by spitting out a mouthful of dirt.
"Sure, buddy boy, anything you say. I'm just glad to have you back." Mike reached over and gently attempted to brush some of the dirt from his partners face.
Steve winced at the epithet and tried to push away Mike's hand, but he didn't have the energy. He gave up and smiled. "It's good to be back."
Talbot broke the moment. "Is it me, or do you smell smoke?"
Mike took a deep breath. "Now that you mention it. I think I do."
"Can you lean forward Steve?" Talbot asked.
"I'll give it a try." Grimacing, he grabbed the steering wheel with his left hand and pulled towards it.
Talbot pushed over the seat and stuck his head out the window. Once free of the confines of the stale air in the car, the smell of smoke was significantly stronger. He could also see a faint reddish glow when he looked up. He pulled back into the car. "I think you did it, Steve! That last cave in opened up a way to the surface."
The elation of having a way out was soon dampened by the reality of the effort needed to make it a reality. Gaining their freedom would not be easy. The first hurtle was changing positions. Alhough he was positioned by the door, Steve was done digging for the night. It would be up to Talbot to finish their escape route.
"You ready for this?" Mike asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Steve said. He pulled his right arm close to his body and with Mike's help scooted towards the passenger side. The effort left him breathless.
Talbot clamored over the seat towards the open window, tame care to avoid the injured inspector. It was a tight fit. After several moments and a new shower of debris, his feet disappeared through the window.
Steve looked over at Mike. "I don't know how I'm gonna be able to climb out of here with this shoulder."
"Do you trust me?" Mike asked.
"What the hell kinda question is that?"
"I'm serious, do you trust me?"
"Of course I do, you know that."
"Okay, I haven't done this in a long time, and it's going to hurt like hell."
"Um..."
"You think you can lay down on your back with your head towards me? You can keep your arm tucked in tight like it is for now."
"Something tells me I'm not going to like this."
"Do you wanna get out of here or what?"
Steve stopped talking and did as he was told, lying down on the seat. Mike took a nervous breath and before his patient could object any further, he grabbed Steve's right wrist and flipped his forearm over and out at a 90-degree angle to his torso. He then grabbed the elbow with his free hand and using both hands to maintain the angle, pulled Steve's arm in an arc towards himself. In spite of Steve's agonized yelps, he knew he had done the job correctly when he felt the shoulder drop back into its socket.
"What the hell's going on in here?" Talbot had popped his head back in through the window.
"Medieval torture." Steve responded, although the relief in his voice was noticeable.
"Hey now. Does it feel better or not?" Mike replied. He turned to Talbot, "I just popped his shoulder back into place."
"That's great!"
Steve looked at the Marshall and rolled his eyes. "I don't know if that's is the word I'd use about this situation."
"But do you feel better?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
How's it looking out there?" Mike asked.
"Pretty good. There's some dry brush above the hole, but I think I can climb over it. Give me a minute and follow me up. Are you gonna be able to climb out Steve?"
"Don't ask me, ask the doctor over there."
Talbot shook his head and ducked back out into the blackness.
Though the pain was greatly reduced, it was still a challenge for Steve to climb out of car and up to the surface. Talbot had shoved the bramble back, but it took the combined efforts of Mike from below and the Marshal from above to pull Steve topside.
When they were all safely above ground, they found the source of the smoke. The vineyard was on fire with hots spots glowing like evil red eyes dotting the hillside. The sky beyond the summit glowed orange.
"Looks like they torched the place." Talbot said as he surveyed the hellish panorama.
"And I bet they are halfway to Argentina by now." Mike replied.
"I would not take that bet," Steve answered as he turned back towards their premature grave and shuddered.
"I'm going to assume the house is that way," Talbot pointed up the hill towards the molten glow.
"Yep, looks like that's on fire as well." Mike replied.
"So what next, we walk?" Steve asked.
"Yep. We walk." Mile answered and took off in the direction of the house.
The other two men shrugged and followed the Lieutenant up the hill.
The vineyard road was paved and smooth, but steep and difficult. In daylight, under ideal conditions, it would have been pleasant hike, despite the climb. In the dark, the march took on a nightmarish quality. After their ordeal, all three were quickly exhausted and dehydrated. Thick smoke oozed across the road, making breathing difficult. Several times they had to retreat into the adjacent fields to avoid hot spots close to their path.
As they got closer to the top of the hill, the heat from the fire became more intense. 20 minutes into their forced march, Mike called a halt.
"We've got a problem." He said, wiping the sweat from his brow on his jacket sleeve.
Steve looked up. He'd been so consumed with pain management and putting one foot in front on the other, he'd nearly run in Mike when he stopped. "What now?" He mumbled.
"Look up there, can you see it?"
The others followed Mike's outstretched arm with their eyes. The fire from the buildings at the top of the hill had crawled across the road, making it impassable.
"How are we going to get around that?" Talbot asked.
"I think we'll need to cut back left and around through the trees."
Steve looked up at the obstacle and didn't care. He leaned his back against a tree on the side of the road and slid to the ground. Mike was instantly at his side.
"I'm done." He said, hanging his head in shame. "You guys go ahead."
Mike's heart broke for his battered friend. "No, you are not! After all you did to get us out, I know you can do this." He dropped down next to Steve. "We'll just take a minute, OK?"
Mike got no arguments from either of his companions. Larry Talbot joined them on the ground by the tree.
After several quiet moments, Mike spoke. "You know Larry, the first time I spoke to you, I thought you were a typical Federal pompous ass."
Steve snorted with laughter. Talbot joined him.
"Yeah, I guess I can see that. Nothing like a shared near-death experience to alter your perspective, is there."
Steve stared to laugh again. Mike looked at him like he had lost his mind. "What's so funny?"
"Geeze, aren't we a trio? Do I look as bad as both of you?" Steve asked, eyeing his two crud-covered companions.
"Worse," Mike and the Marshal answered as one, before dissolving into guffaws of their own.
Mike stood as the laughter played out. "Are you guys ready to finish this?" he asked.
Steve looked at Mike and shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."
Talbot stood, offered Steve his hand and pulled the young inspector to a standing position. "When we get out of this, drinks are on me!"
"I'm going to hold you to that, Larry!" Mike said as he headed into the trees."
00000
Another 15 minutes elapsed before the bedraggled company staggered free of the tree line. The first person they recognized beyond the phalanx of fire equipment was Norm Haseejian.
Steve hushed the others and sidled up to the unsuspecting Sargent.
"Hey, Norm! What's up."