The rumbling stopped. Erik opened his eyes, feeling Lillian pressed against him. He couldn't tell if she was breathing or not. He pulled in a breath and choked on dust. He couldn't think where they were, only knowing that it was dark. Rolling slightly in the tight space, he looked upwards seeing small shafts of light above. Distantly, he heard people screaming and crying.

Then he remembered the upper floors of the building suddenly shattering. Bricks raining down on him. He'd grabbed Lillian, desperately hoping to find some cover before they were crushed.

She stirred against his chest, raising her head slowly. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated in terror. "Erik?" She choked, coughing in the foul dust surrounding them.

He kissed her forehead, trying to calm her, to let her know she wasn't alone, that he was here.

He tried to yell, but no sound came from his throat. Reaching a hand up, he pushed against the rough ceiling above. Bricks, he realized. The building had fallen on top of them as the sidewalk opened and dropped them into a hole several feet deep. The only thing that saved them was the window ledge, diverting the bricks around them and creating a small niche for them against the building's foundation.

He heard voices above and the sound of concrete scraping as it shifted. "Hey!" He yelled as loudly as he could. "Help! We're under here!"

He looked at Lillian, tears were streaming down her face. "Be still," he soothed. "Are you hurt?"

Her eyes unfocused for a moment, then she looked back at him, shaking her head slightly. "I don't think so. Nothing serious." Her hand touched his chest. "You?"

He felt a myriad of small stings, scrapes and cuts from the falling bricks as he sheltered her body with his own. Nothing felt broken. They'd both know more if—when they were able to climb out from the pile surrounding them.

"Oh, God, Erik." Lillian clutched at his jacket front. "What if we can't get out?"

What if we're buried alive? His mind filled in her unspoken words. "No." Anger welled through him. "No. I will not let us end here. Not like this."

He searched the bricks above him. They weren't too tightly packed, he reasoned, as they were getting air and some light. If he could find the keystone brick in the pile, the one supporting everything, he might be able to shift it enough to get them out or bring the whole pile crashing down on them. Either way, they'd be free.

He grasped one brick, pulling at it slightly. It shifted and he felt the pile slide inwards. No. Too dangerous. Try another.

Voices grew louder above them. Erik could almost make out some of the words.

"Help!" He shouted again, attempting to throw his voice upward through the tiny openings between the pile of bricks. "Here! We're down here!"

"Help us!" Lillian's voice joined his. "Get us out!"

"Hey! There's people trapped down here!" Erik heard a man's voice yelling. Bricks shifted overhead, and suddenly there was light and air.

"Oh, thank God," Lillian breathed.

Hands reached down for them. "C'mon," a man shouted, looking up at the structure. "Hurry before the rest of the building comes down."

Erik managed to shift his body, getting both hands on Lillian's waist and lifting. He struggled to push her up to the men above, then collapsed panting as they pulled her to safety.

"Okay, Buddy, you're next." A hand reached down for him. He rolled to his side and reached up, narrowly missing the outstretched fingers. "C'mon, try again. We ain't leaving you here."

He lunged upwards, feeling muscles tear along his back with the effort but he reached the outstretched hand and grasped tightly. Using his legs for leverage, he pushed against the brick pile until he was able to grab a second man's hand. His chest and belly scraped hard against the rough bricks as they pulled him out. He rolled down the pile and sprawled on his back on the sidewalk.

Looking up through the dust and debris in the air, he could see the top two floors of the building were gone. Part of the wall on the second floor was missing and he could see into Nasir's apartment. Erik spared a brief thought for his friend, thankful that the Persian was far from the city and hopefully safe.

A hand cupped his uncovered cheek and he turned his head to see Lillian kneeling above him. Tear tracks carved down the dirt on her face. There was a bloody scrape on her forehead and her left cheek was swollen, but she seemed otherwise unharmed.

"Lil…" His throat was raw. He couldn't get her name past his lips.

"Shh," she said. She kissed his forehead lightly then sat back. "I'm all right. You saved us."

Erik felt a hand under his head and something cool pressed to his lips. "Here, Buddy." A man's voice, the same voice as before. "Sip a little of this." The liquid burned even as it wet his throat. Erik's hand came up and felt something cool and curved held in the other man's hand. A flask, he realized. It touched his lips again, but he pushed it away. "No. No more."

"Do you think you can stand?" the man asked, extending his hand.

Erik nodded and reached for the man. His legs trembled and his chest and back hurt like hell but he was on his feet. "Thank you." The dust seemed to be settling a bit and it was getting easier to breathe. He knew he'd sustained some injuries, but nothing too bad. Something dripped down his mask into his eye and he wiped it away, leaving a light smudge of blood on the dirty white leather. He must have cut his head earlier. Gingerly, he felt his head above the mask, pulling his fingers back with a slight smear of blood. His head didn't hurt badly so he ignored it. Lillian came to stand next to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his shoulder.

"Your mask modification works." She said, touching the leather. "I can't believe it stayed in place after all that."

"It won't come off unless I take it off." After Paris, he kept modifying his mask design until he'd made damned sure that no one could remove his mask except him. This was the latest model. He'd worn it to the opera just in case. His last experience at the opera taught him how truly vulnerable he was to being uncovered and he wasn't taking any chances on being unmasked accidently in a crowd.

He looked down at her, briefly kissing her head. Then he looked up. "Mon Dieu." His voice was a harsh rasp and for a moment he forgot his English. He felt Lillian raise her head, then heard her gasp. There was nothing but devastation all around. The brilliant city he knew was gone, replaced by piles of rubble and the naked skeletons that were once buildings. People staggered by him, their eyes vacant. They were covered in dirt, many were bleeding as they walked without direction.

A woman wearing a cotton nightgown stumbled into him. She clutched at his jacket. "Billy, have you seen my Billy? You know him, five years old, golden curls." He looked helplessly at Lillian, then held the woman gently by the forearms. "No, I'm sorry. I haven't seen him."

An older man wearing a torn shirt and trousers with bedroom slippers on his bare feet came up, pulling the woman gently away from Erik. "He's not here, Marta. Let's go see if they've seen him down the street." He turned her gently, watching as she shuffled down the street. "I was on the stoop having a smoke when it hit. I saw Marta thrown through her window, then the whole building come down." He shook his head. "Nothing survived that."

Wordlessly, Erik removed his evening jacket, handing it to the man who just stared at it for a moment. Then he nodded and ran after the woman, catching up to her and placing the jacket over her nightgown.

Erik shivered. The early morning wind blew in off the bay, bringing a chill and the taste of salt to his lips. He felt numb, unable to comprehend what happened around him. Slipping his hands into his trousers pockets for a bit of warmth, his fingers brushed cloth. He pulled it out, looking at the bit of old green ribbon. Then he held it out to Lillian.

"You said it was a talisman." Her voice was shaky. "I think you are my talisman, Erik. You saved my life."

He couldn't speak. The horror was greater than any he'd ever seen before. He had no words. Looking around again, he realized they had to get away from the buildings. There might be more aftershocks and most of the construction was now dangerously unstable. There were other worries too, regarding the city's infrastructure, but he said nothing to Lillian. He knew the danger; there was no reason to share it with her. They needed to get away from the area, get to open ground, but where?

He turned slowly in a circle, searching for some area that might still be intact after the earthquake. Nothing that he could see close by. There was no sure safe place in the city to go. They'd have to head away from the city and move up into the hills. He looked again, surveying the area with a more critical eye.

"There." He pointed to a hill rising several hundred feet over the city. He saw there were a few buildings on the hill and they all seemed to be intact. Was it possible that area was far enough away that it remained undamaged yet still close enough to be possible to attain on foot? They'd have to try. Nowhere in the city was safe right now.

"My bag," Lillian said, pulling on his arm. "I must get back to the hotel and fetch my bag."

She was in shock, he realized. He held her firmly, scanning over her shoulder for the hotel. It was there, miraculously still standing although the entire façade of one wall was gone, revealing rows of guest rooms open to the air. An aftershock rumbled suddenly. Erik watched in horror as the hotel swayed and a small figure was flung from the open side to the ground.

"No, Lillian, we can't go back to the hotel. We must get to higher ground in case there's another quake." He took her arm and turned her in the direction where he believed they could find safety. He noticed other people also heading that way and called out to one. "Are you heading to the hill?"

"Yeah," the man called back. "It's probably safer to get away from the city that way." He pointed in the direction, confirming Erik's guess. "Hey, you're Mr. Dantes, right?"

"Yes." Erik nodded, looking at the man. He did look familiar. "Do I know you?"

"Yeah. I'm Tom Walsh, you just don't recognize me without the uniform."

"Of course." Eric remembered, Walsh was one of the policemen who walked the beat around the club. He and Nasir had made a point of making Club Incognito welcoming to the police officers who patrolled the area in the late afternoon and evenings when the club was open. They made the kitchen available to the cops who needed to step inside for a few minutes to escape the cold and always offered hot coffee or tea to anyone who wanted it.

Erik took Lillian's hand and they fell into step with Walsh. "We should try to gather up as many of these people as we can and take them along."

"I tried that, a few times," Walsh said, looking at people scrambling over the broken building remains. "Most won't come. They're either looking for stuff or looking for people."

"God." Lillian wiped a tear away, looking at the devastation around them. "How could people survive in that?"

"We did," Erik reminded her. "But we can't stop to help every person."

Lillian stopped walking and stared at him. "We must."

"No," Walsh interrupted. "Mr. Dantes is right. We can't stop and risk getting caught if there's another tremor." As if to punctuate his words, a slight aftershock rippled the sidewalk under their feet.

Erik looked at them. They were both right. They couldn't stop but how could they refuse to help when it was needed? "Here's what we'll do. Lillian, people found us because they heard us shouting and they knew we were alive. If that situation arises we will stop and help. But if there's no indication of life, or people are just digging to find things, then we'll keep on going. Agreed?"

Lillian and Walsh both nodded and they continued their trek.

It was slow going, they often had to walk around and sometimes stumble their way over huge piles of bricks and other debris. Others joined them as they went.

Several cries for help came from a half-fallen house not too far from where they walked. A boy ran up to the group. "Can you help? Please? My ma and the baby are trapped. We gotta get them out. Please?"

Erik nodded and they followed the boy back to the remains of his home. Several men were already there and Erik could hear the faint cries of the woman and infant trapped inside. It looked like most of the house collapsed and the woman and child were trapped in what looked to be a small storage room attached to the side of the building. Much of the second floor of the home that remained leaned in the direction of the attachment, balancing precariously over the piles of bricks that had already fallen all around and trapped the two. He watched as several of the men started pounding at the wall between them and the victims, trying to bring it down.

"NO! STOP!" They turned, looking at Erik running up to them. "Stop!" he shouted again, pointing at the wall they attacked. "That's a load-bearing wall. If you smash it, you'll bring the whole pile down on them."

"So what are we supposed to do?"

Erik went a few steps into the structure, looking at it with a critical eye. "If we can shore up this wall here," he pointed, "and here. We can open a hole in this section and pull them through."

A burly man stepped up, planting himself directly in front of Erik. "Nobody put you in charge, freak."

Erik stood his ground. "I'm an architect and builder. If you want to kill that woman and baby, then go ahead and ignore me." He turned to leave.

"No, wait!" Another man pushed through the crowd. "That's my family in there." He grasped Erik's arm. "Please, help us."

"Of course." He stepped up to the man who'd challenged him. "You look like a strong man, can you take a few of the others and get that steel beam that's lying over there?" He pointed to the ruins of a brick building a few yards up the street. "That's a good beginning for shoring up the wall."

"Erik!" He turned toward Lillian's voice. She had moved down the street with the other walkers. "We need you! Hurry!"

He turned back to the man with the trapped wife and child. "You don't need me here. Get heavy poles or beams, then place flat pieces of wood, as large as you can find, between them and the wall for bracing." He pointed to a spot on the wall. "Then slowly remove the center bricks there one by one. You should be able to widen it enough to pull them through."

The man nodded, clasping Erik's hand in his. "Thank you. God bless you."

Erik nodded and pulled away. He heard Lillian call again, she sounded frantic. He had to get to her. He ran around a corner as she ran up to him.

"There's a man; he's trapped under a beam." She pulled at his arm. "We've got to get him out."

He followed her then stopped at the scene. A man was half buried under a pile of rubble. An iron beam from a fallen building lay solidly across his chest and he was bent back over a pile of bricks under his torso. Erik noted the man was barely moving. His arms pushed feebly against the beam but his legs were still.

His back is probably broken. A trickle of blood seeped from the man's mouth. Internal damage as well. The other rescuers cleared a space for him so he was able to kneel down and place his ear along the man's chest. He looked up at Walsh, standing by the beam with several others, trying to lift it off the man. "Walsh, take those men and try and find things we can use as pry bars to get this off him."

Walsh nodded and led the others away. Erik crawled on the pile to the fallen man's head, turning it gently towards him. The man moaned, his breath gurgling in his lungs, a thin trickle of blood running from his mouth, and looked up at him. He lay his hand against the man's cheek, pressing softly, then shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

The man's eyes met his and he nodded, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he closed his eyes. Erik looked up at Lillian standing several feet away watching them as he positioned his hands on either side of the man's head. "Look away," he ordered. "Lillian, look away." She turned her head from them as Erik twisted his hands sharply and the man went limp. Then he rose, stumbling carefully down the brick pile and moving back to her.

Walsh and the others came running up then stopped as they looked at him. The others dropped what they were carrying. The twisted bits of rebar and lengths of wood were no longer needed.

Walsh lowered his head as several of the others crossed themselves.

"His chest was crushed," Erik said. "He was drowning in his own blood." He turned once more in the direction of the hill. "We've got to keep moving."

. . . .

It took them several hours, stopping along the way anytime they could to help other trapped people. Their small group grew as they picked up more and more stragglers. Erik and Walsh tended to be at the front, with Lillian staying back a bit to walk with the unaccompanied women and children.

"What do we do when we get up there?" Walsh gestured to the hill just outside the city, while turning to Erik as they walked.

Erik looked at him, he wasn't used to being included in decisions. He'd made them for himself readily enough, but being asked for his opinion and having to think about the welfare of others was new to him. It left him feeling a bit off balance.

"I don't know," Erik shrugged. He was tired and the air was till thick with dust making walking the steep streets much harder than he was used to. He worried that it might become too hard for some of the group. He hoped that soon they'd reach a part of the city where the land was more level. "I suppose we'll have to assess the situation when we get there. Let's get out of the city first and worry about the rest when we have to."

Walsh nodded. "What you did back there, with the guy under that beam, it took guts." Walsh lowered his voice so the others wouldn't overhear. "You killed him, didn't you?"

Erik stopped, facing Walsh squarely, his eyes narrowing. "Are you accusing me of something, Officer Walsh?"

"No; you're not understanding me." Walsh continued walking, separating himself more from the group and Erik kept pace. "The guy was dying; I could see that. He was dying slow and painful. You gave him peace." Walsh shook his head. "I don't know if I'da had the guts to do that." He stopped, holding out his hand. "I'm saying you're a brave man, Mr. Dantes. I admire that."

Erik stopped, looking down at the proffered hand then up into Walsh's eyes. The man was sincere and Erik didn't know how he felt about that. He didn't like killing, had sworn he wouldn't take another life after Paris, and yet, here he'd done it and was admired for the act. He didn't understand. "I didn't want to do it."

Walsh grasped his arm. "I know. We're taught that putting animals out of their misery when they're suffering is the right thing to do. But when it's people that's suffering…." He shook his head, not having the words to finish what he was trying to say.

They stood in silence until the others caught up with them and they started moving again. "I did what I had to do," Erik said flatly. "Let's not speak of it again." Walsh nodded and they trudged on.

They'd walked another half-mile when Lillian came up to join Erik at the front. "Do you think we can rest soon? Several of the older people and the small children are getting very tired."

Erik scanned the area. The sky seemed to be darkening over parts of the city. It was lighter here and there was less devastation in the area than where they'd begun. Many of the homes were still standing, and not showing a lot of damage.

He estimated that the safety of the hill was still several miles ahead and he didn't even want to think about the effort involved in getting up to the top. He'd worry about that when he had to. He just hoped they could all make it together. He didn't want to see another death this day.

Lillian was right, they all needed to rest, even the younger stronger people. He'd been feeling his own strength fading, but was reluctant to stop. He looked over his shoulder to the rest of the group. Somehow, he'd become their unelected leader. Even Walsh deferred to his decisions. Maybe it was that he was a survivor and they all sensed that in him. Or maybe nobody wanted to get close or argue with the tall man in the blood-streaked mask.

"Erik," Lillian pulled his face toward hers. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, just tired." He smiled at her, aware of a sound coming from somewhere nearby. "What's that noise? Is it people?"

"Yes, I think so." She moved ahead, looking off to her right. "There," she pointed. "Down a few blocks, it's unbelievable."

He stepped forward to join her. It was a church. The steeple still stood proudly while below the building seemed to have suffered very little damage. There were some holes in the walls and the windows were gone, but the structure appeared sound. People were moving into the building and he could hear voices from inside.

Others from their group joined them, gazing down at the church. "It's a sign. We're going to be all right," one said. Several people started walking down to the church, soon the rest of the group followed.

Lillian took Erik's hand and walked with the others. She paused at the open doorways. "Do you think it's safe to go inside?"

He looked at the walls, seeing that most of the supporting beams were still in place. He nodded, "I think so."

She stepped ahead, pulling him with her, only to be stopped when he didn't move. "Erik? What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "I can't go in there." He looked into her eyes. She wanted him to go with her, but he wouldn't. "I don't belong in a church. And I doubt very much that your God wants me there."

She moved into his arms, holding him silently. From what little she knew of his life, she understood his feelings. The church wasn't often kind to people like Erik, people who were different. She'd seen evidence of that in her own experiences with superstitious villagers when she'd gone with some of her medical teams to rescue a child who needed their help.

"You, on the other hand," he continued, "are one of God's angels. Go. Go inside and say a prayer for the souls who were lost today. I'll be here when you come out."

She didn't want to leave him, yet her heart needed the peace she knew she'd find in the damaged structure. She squeezed his hand and stepped forward. "I'll be back soon." She walked up the steps and stopped. "Erik, look." She pointed into the church. "It's a miracle."

The back wall of the church was almost completely gone, but still standing intact and seemingly undamaged was an organ. "Oh, I wish I could play. There's something about the music in a church that brings such comfort," she said.

"Do you have a favorite?" he asked, stepping up to her.

"Oh, I have many. There are so many magnificent pieces, Bach, Beethoven…. But I think for today, something pure and simple is needed." As she spoke, they saw someone sit down at the organ and begin to play. It was obvious the organist was an amateur, still Lillian closed her eyes, letting the music wrap around her.

The music stopped as a man stepped up to the alter and began a hymn while the people joined in response.

She turned to Erik and kissed his cheek. "I won't be long. I just need to say a prayer or two."

"Go," Erik urged, seeing her reaction to the music. "Take as much time as you need. I'm not going anywhere without you." He watched her enter the church and slip into a pew. The organ began again, this time joined by a wavering slightly off pitch soprano and he cringed.

"I want it clearly understood," Erik said, looking up at the sky, "that I'm doing this for her, not for you."

Lillian was just preparing to leave, knowing she'd stayed longer than she intended, listening to the short simple service and offering prayers for the souls of those who lost their lives this day. She worried about Erik standing outside waiting for her. She knew he'd been hurt and yet he never stopped helping others. They had to get to their destination soon so he would rest. No, so she would make him rest. At that moment, the speaker finished and closed his bible then asked the listeners to stand for one final offering before going.

The opening notes of the Bach-Gounod Ave Maria began hesitantly and stopped. She looked to the organ and saw the organist slip off the bench to be replaced by someone else.

The music began again, accompanied by as pure a tenor as she'd ever heard.

Ave Maria, gratia plena,

Dominus, tecum,

Benedicta tu in mulieribus

Et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Jesus.

Sancta Maria, sancta Maria,

Maria, ora pro nobis nobis peccatoribus,

Nunc et in hora, in hora mortis nostrae.

Amen! Amen!

The last notes lingered in the air as a profound silence hung over the people and no one moved for a moment. Then a child cried and the moment was over as people slowly remembered what happened and why they were here.

Several people from her group walked past her and Lillian moved with them out into the light. She looked around and saw Erik standing alone, leaning against a tree. Walsh beckoned to him and Erik walked towards them.

"Could you hear that way over here?" Walsh asked him. "It was like God sent an angel to bring us music from heaven."

"Yes," Lillian said, her eyes shining as she looked up at Erik. "An angel of music, sent to bring peace to our souls."

"Humph. If so, then God better get his angel some music lessons. That organist was shaky at best and that soprano was singing off key." He brushed past them, moving on towards their destination. Angel of music. It had been years since he'd been called that. He never thought he'd play an instrument or sing aloud again. It was too painful. But just now, it seemed right. Maybe someday the angel of music could rise again, and maybe the joy of music would rise again for him, too.