Top-side

The elevator still climbed in its methodical way toward the daylight now obscured by the thick cloud of rising dust. Mac had his sleeve over his mouth and nose as the cloud rushed past him and the elevator shuddered with ominous creaks and groans. It seemed an eternity before the elevator came to a stop and Mac stumbled quickly out. All around him people were shouting and rushing about. It was chaos, but organized chaos, because this was not something unknown, just feared.

Mac walked straight ahead away from the edge of the tunnel. After fifteen steps he stopped and turned to see the rising dust cloud in full already beginning to settle. Workers were standing away from the edge of the tunnel, staring up in terrified wonder. Several of them had two-way radios to their mouths, talking quickly.

Mac hurried over to the nearest workman with a radio, grabbing his shoulder to get his total attention.

" What's going on, what happened?" he asked. A part of Mac wanted to panic, to run about shouting questions that would get him no answers. But he was well practiced at dismissing such emotions, ignoring them as one would a gnat.

" Unscheduled explosion," the man replied, sounding almost calm though his eyes were wide and frightened. " Wouldn't be the first time this happened."

Mac couldn't believe what he had just heard. " Wouldn't be the first time?"

" I mean it happens. This would actually be the second time in two years for us."

Mac did not know whether to be assured or disturbed. " How would something like this happen?"

The man shrugged, saying something in the radio before talking. " Instability in the cavern structure, an undetonated explosive, something like that… what was that?" He held the radio up to his ear. " Say again? You're kidding."

" What is it?" Mac asked.

" We got the boss on the radio. He's down there, along with three other guys."

Mac's heart started pounding faster. " Is anyone hurt?"

The man shrugged. " Contact isn't clear, but it sounds like they're all alive. Now all we need to worry about is getting them out."

Mac nodded and backed away since he knew well enough that there would be nothing else to learn. Even as the dust continued to clear, workers were already heading down.

Mac watched them and as he did so various thoughts of guilt and doubt crept into his mind: He should have stayed down there. He should be doing something. He should have unburied the body to bring it to Hawkes, instead of calling Hawkes in. He should have insisted Danny go topside. Danny may have been the picture of nonchalance, but he had been unable to hide the lack of color in his face or his overly rigid stance.

These were thoughts Mac could not help thinking, but he did not allow himself to worry over them. Except in the case of Danny. He thought he knew Messer fairly well, but if the young forensics' 'unease' at being underground actually ran deeper than he made it seem, then there was no saying what this might to do him, how he would react. He might panic, or it might affect him mentally, hindering him in his work. Mac could not actually see such things happening. Danny had never seemed the type to give way to panic. But people had a way of surprising even those who thought they knew them in every aspect.

" Hey Mac!"

Mac turned at the sound of Stella's voice. She was walking quickly toward him with Aiden following, dragging a shovel. Both looked about the place in apparent confusion.

" We've got a problem," Mac said. Stella stopped in front of him, but continued to glance around.

" I was getting the feeling. What happened?"

Mac looked over his shoulder. " There was… and unexpected detonation. Something went off," he looked back at Stella. " There's been a cave-in. Danny and Dr. Hawkes are down there."

Aiden dropped the shovel, her jaw going slack. Stella went round-eyed and stiff.

" Well are they okay?" Stella asked.

" They're alive, we know that much. People are already going in."

" Is there anything we can do?" Aiden asked next.

Mac turned to watch has more entered into the tunnel. " Wait."

Tunnel

Danny had his hands clenched so tight that his nails bit into his palm. By keeping them clenched in his pockets he was able to restrain them from shaking so much. He kept his head down and his eyes glued to a spot on the floor illuminated by the only working light left. It flickered and buzzed overhead, threatening to fade out, and a large part of him dreaded that it would. But as long as he kept his gaze down, focused on a single point, then it wasn't so bad. He wasn't as aware of the miles of rock hovering over his head as though preparing to drop, or the darkness hovering at the edge of his vision.

The difficult part was trying not to think about any of it. He tried to let his mind wander to other things, but he practically felt the rock around him, almost as though it were shrinking and closing in. He felt stupid, idiotic, and even cowardly, for feeling and thinking all this. Yet no matter how much he argued with himself he could not stop the terror that threatened to flood and choke him. This situation was, after all, a nightmare come true. If the universe had been teasing him by sending him back into the tunnel, it must be laughing its butt off now.

He heard without actually listening the foreman talking into his radio, and the scrape and clomp of Dave's boots as he paced. The sounds were still distant to him like background noise. He was used to background noise. Living in a city, it was always there, always humming or whispering somewhere at his back. But the noises of the city were like old friends to him. He knew the sounds. He could pick them apart if he wanted to, identify each source from the screeching wheels of a car to the higher-pitched screech of a train.

The noise of the tunnel was different, strange, subdued and exact. They were only two sounds that would not stop, coupled with his own breathing that he could not quiet no matter how he tried to breathe. It was grating on his nerves, burrowing into his thoughts, keeping him aware of everything around him. It was making his head throb, and his stomach churn, so he stared at his spot of ground harder, mapping out the shadows and cracks into incoherent shapes.

" Danny."

Danny jerked as though waking, and turned to see Dr. Hawkes standing on his right.

" Yeah?"

" The body's still intact. Although we might have to do a little more digging."

Danny nodded, looking past Hawkes to the darkness hovering like infinity behind him. He looked away, back to the spot on the floor.

" As long as it ain't going anywhere," he replied hoarsely. " Find anything new?"

" Too dark to work." Hawkes flicked his fingers against his helmet. " Even with the light. Hey Danny, you sure you're alright."

" Yeah, I said I was."

Dave's pacing seemed to become louder, faster; almost matching in time with Danny's heart which had yet to cease pounding. Danny's irritation rose, and he looked up to glare at Dave. The man wasn't even looking in his direction to notice. Like Danny, he had his eyes on the floor, but his gaze seemed more focused. He was mouthing something, talking to himself, most likely in an attempt at calming himself.

Then Danny was distracted when Stan walked over to them.

" Okay, I had a long talk with the guys up top. They're checking for any more 'unknown' explosives, then they're going to start in on the debris. It may take a while, especially if the ceiling is unstable. According to one of my guys, these rogue explosives were put where they weren't supposed to be; too close together. They think when they were set up the wire was faulty and that's why they didn't go off until now. No saying what set them off, and I doubt we'll ever no. Some of these detonators can be pretty touchy."

Dave's pacing, if possible, picked up and Danny felt ready to strangle him.

" So," he began, swallowing back his irritation, " nothin' to do but wait, right?"

" Well, we can start in on the debris, see if we can't create a dent in it. Who knows, maybe we might find a weak spot and can dig our way out. If not we can at least try to create a few holes, see if we can't get some better air in here. If you feel a breeze while digging that's when you know you got one, so pay attention. And be careful. Some of these rocks are sharp."

Stan led the way back to the wall of debris. Yet even with all their flashlights the darkness remained thick around them. Danny continued to look at the floor, watching the ground rush past the beam of his flashlight. Their arrival at the mound seemed almost sudden and he started in surprise when his light revealed it.

It wasn't that tall, just three feet higher than he was, but then this was the lesser end of the tunnel. The incline was steep but uneven, providing places to stand so that they could reach the top.

" You know," Hawkes said as he stepped onto some of the larger rocks, positioning himself for an easy dig, " life has a weird way of letting you learn about yourself. Right now, I'd rather be dissecting a body than trying to rip through this stuff."

Danny managed a weak attempt at a smile, though he found nothing humorous in the thought of bodies being dissected. He climbed onto a large slab of rock sticking out of the mound, positioning him perfectly with the top of the mound. He held his flashlight between his teeth, reached out, and began digging. Dirt and small stones spilled over his hands and arms. The top of his arms scraped the edge of the ceiling where the hole had been blasted, and the more he dug the more dirt came pouring out.

It was a monotonous toil, digging when the mound refused to give way. He had to tilt his head back to keep dirt and rock from raining into his mouth. He began to dig faster, trying to outrace the constant stream of dirt and rocks. He tore rocks away from their bedding, sending them clattering down the mound. Soon he was encountering more rocks than he was dirt, groping for them blindly.

He felt the darkness at his back more than saw it. It felt cold to him, though the air was still and heavy. It was all around him, swallowing up the beam of his flashlight, and swallowing him up as well.

He dug faster; clawing at rocks that would not give way. There were so many rocks now, all sharp and jagged. He kept scraping his hands on them, much to his growing annoyance, but he did not stop. He would not. If he stopped now, he would not be able to start again. He did not know why he thought this, but he did. To him, the rocks were in his way. They needed to be moved, and quickly. The air was just too thick to breathe, and he needed more light to see by. If he could just create a small hole, allow in a tiny stream of light, then things wouldn't be so bad.

He focused on digging, imagining the rocks as he felt them, picturing them being ripped away and the tiny hole he was creating deepening. One rock was being stubborn, so he jerked at it, clawed at it until it loosened suddenly. The surprise of the rock giving way caused him to open his mouth and his flashlight to fall and clatter loudly on the floor.

Danny muttered a curse but kept going. He didn't need the flashlight to know what he was doing. He could feel his way through, and he had yet to detect any movement in the air of his small hole. He forced his hand into tight places despite some pain it caused, pulling and loosening rocks. One fell, smashing his finger, and he cursed again. He heard grunts, curses, and harsh breathing all around him; more background noise, but easier to ignore as long as he kept going. Just a little farther, a little faster. It was hard going, though. His hands became slick with sweat, making the rocks hard to grasp. He brought one hand out and wiped it on the sleeve of the other arm. He brought the other arm out and wiped the moisture off on his side. He kept having to do this since the moisture would not stay off. When the rock became too slippery again, he wiped the wetness of his right hand onto his chest, and then his left on his other side twice down the length of his ribcage.

It was endless, this moisture, and his hands ached fiercely, stinging and burning. Just touching the rocks sent pain shooting through his arm, but he ignored it. He could not stop now. The hole was deep; it would not be long before he felt something. He also thought he heard something, far away and muffled, coming from the other side. If he kept going, he might be able to meet up with those clearing the debris on the opposite end. He would be out. He would be freed.

Danny wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, which felt wet and sticky. He felt sick and tired. His breathing came and went heavily, and his hands were shaking again. He realized, fearfully, that he would have no choice to but to stop. He was becoming exhausted.

" Hey Danny," Dr. Hawkes said, his voice breaking into Danny's concentration like a baseball through a window. Danny flinched, but kept digging, clawing, and scraping.

" Yeah?" he said. His voice sounded harsh to him, almost unreal.

" I think I'm getting something. I feel air. How about…"

Dr. Hawke's helmet light nearly blinded Danny. He winced, turning away, but kept pulling at a rock that refused to budge. He found that he could not grip it. It hurt too much to do so and his fingers refused to curl.

" Danny?"

" What?" Danny snapped.

" Look at me man."

Danny turned his head back toward Hawkes, squinting against the blinding light.

" You've got blood on your forehead."

At this, Danny stopped trying to free the rock and froze.

" What?" he asked, wondering hazily if he had heard right. He felt strangely tired; not to mention light headed. His heart quickened, and panic tightened his chest. Was he suffocating? Why did he have blood on him?

" Crap, Danny, you've got blood all over you. What's going on."

Danny swallowed, confusion clouding his brain. He pulled his arms from the hole he had created and looked at his hands by Hawkes' light.

Every inch of his hands was covered in thick blood, extending down to his wrists, soaking his sleeves to the elbow. He looked more closely and saw cuts and gashes all over his palms, his fingers, on the backs of his hands, but more alarmingly, on his wrists, all oozing blood.

Terror finally took hold, overwhelming him, causing his heart to hammer hard enough to break his ribs and his breath to come in short gasps. He stared at the bloody mess without comprehension, wondering how this could have possibly happened.

" What the hell?" He began to descend from the slab he was standing on, trying to move away from the pile as though it had done this to him on purpose. His head swam, and his body felt unnatural to him. He moved slowly, carefully, without touching anything, and still he slipped hitting the floor hard chest-first. He tried to push himself up but his arms trembled until they finally gave way. His flashlight, still on the floor, cast its beam on Danny's left hand, making the blood coating it to shimmer.

He wanted to move away from the light so he did not have to see his hand. He tried again to get up, but the blood on his hands made them slippery and he fell again. Again he tried and again he slipped. Then someone grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. Dr. Hawkes helped Danny to move to the wall, then helped him to sit against it. He then took Danny by both wrists to raise them above Danny's head.

" Danny, listen to me. You need to keep your arms up, above your heart, at all times. It'll help slow the blood." He then moved away, into the darkness, and was only partially visible due to his helmet light.

Danny nodded, shivering all over. Flashlight beams danced over him as Stan and Dave stood off to the side, watching silently.

" What happened?" Dave asked, his voice choked in disgust.

No one responded. But Danny knew good and well what had happened. He had not stopped; he had kept going, even when his hand began to hurt, and even when the rocks were too slippery to hold. This was his fault, his doing, all because he thought he could get out.

He felt warm blood drip onto his face, head, neck, and into his collar to land on his collarbone. He felt it trickle down his arm, all the way to his shoulder. There seemed to be so much of it, or perhaps it was only his imagination, his fear. Either way, it was making him sick, making him scared. It would not stop dripping and running, and he thought he felt some of it trailing down his back.

Tense enough to snap, shaking uncontrollably, he lowered his head onto his upturned knees and gritted his teeth.

" Make it stop," he said in a voice that was barely even a whisper. He clenched his hands, hoping to stifle the bleeding, only to have blood ooze between his fingers.

" Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop…" over and over, speaking so only he could hear. He felt dizzy, he felt tired, but terror kept him awake.

" Hang on Danny," Dr. Hawkes said. Danny lifted his head to see the doctor wrapping something tightly about his hands and wrists. It wasn't gauze but a cloth like a handkerchief or bandanna that had been torn in two. It was plain and white, but already being stained by Danny's blood. He looked at Dr. Hawkes questioningly, but Dr. Hawks was looking at Danny's hands with an expression of discomfort on his face.

" Sorry Danny," he said. " I wanted to go for something cleaner but this was all I had." When he finished, he looked it over unhappily. " I don't know if this will be enough."

" Here," Stan said, " use mine. It's pretty clean, I've yet to use it."

The foreman pulled out his own cloth, a real bandanna. Hawkes took it and ripped it in two then wrapped it around Danny's wrists. When he finished, he took Danny's right hand, placing it on his left wrist and forcing his stiff fingers to wrap around.

" Danny, I need you to hold onto both your wrists like this. Hold 'em tight, got it? Hold them until you can feel your own pulse, but don't let your hands go numb. And remember, keep your arms raised above heart level."

Danny gripped his own wrists tight as his stiff and pain-filled fingers would allow. He then rested his elbows on his knees, keeping his arms vertical.

" Sure thing doc," he said in a strangely calm, flat voice, though he could not stop shaking, and felt sick enough to vomit. Thankfully, he did not have the energy to do so.