J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for continuing to read! Special thanks to everyone who followed or favorite and to Terri, Rosemoor, and Var Devonshire for your reviews! It's really exciting to see so much interest in this story right out of the gate. I hope you continue to enjoy! God bless!

Chapter 2

"Look out! The roof!"

Roy was never sure afterwards who had shouted. It could have been anyone gathered around that old apartment building—the firemen, Vince, the woman who had called them, the news reporters. Most likely, it was several of them. It might have even been Roy himself. All he knew for sure was that he was watching the roof of that building fall in and bury Johnny in the rubble.

He was trained for emergencies, so it didn't take as long for Roy to process what had happened as it would have for someone who was not trained for such a situation. Captain Stanley, also, recovered from his shock quickly, and started giving orders.

"Mike, call for back-up! Marco, Chet, get the porta-power, a rope, axes, and the K-12! Roy, you'd better get in contact with Rampart and give them a head's up. Everybody, I want you in full turn-out gear."

Instantly, all the men went into action following the orders. Vince also pitched in, gathering equipment. He was also keeping an eye out for bystanders who would get too close, but fortunately, there wasn't anyone around yet. There was the woman who had called, but she seemed aware enough to stay back and keep out of the way. The news team should have known enough to do likewise—and so far, they were—but Vince knew it didn't always work out that way.

Meanwhile, Captain Stanley shouted into the rubble and listened for a response from Johnny. There was no response. Dust continued to swirl up as the former roof settled into its new position.

"What do you think happened?" Marco asked as he reached the captain, his turnout gear on and an axe in one hand and a huge coil of rope in the other, while the porta-power was tucked under his elbow.

"I thought I heard a crash inside just before it happened," Stanley replied. "A wall must have fallen in or something and that weakened the whole building enough that the roof fell in. We're lucky the building was only a couple of stories tall."
It seemed like a strange time to be saying that they were lucky, but the other men knew what he meant. More stories meant more weight and more debris, which meant a greater likelihood that Johnny and the child would be crushed beneath it. Of course, they knew realistically that that was most likely what had happened, but until they knew for sure, they were going to act as if they knew for sure that both victims were still alive.

"How do we handle this, Cap?" Chet asked.

Stanley was still deciding on that. "The last thing we want to do is bring any more of this building down. We're going to have to secure what we can. Then we start digging. We're going to have to go at it slow."

"Cap," Roy said suddenly, "Johnny had a handy-talky with him."

"That's right." Stanley couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that himself, but he wasted no time beating himself up over that as he grabbed his own radio. He pressed down the button. "HT 51, this is Engine 51. Do you copy?"

The men waited eagerly, but there was no answer. Stanley repeated the message, but the same result followed.

"Maybe he dropped it," Chet suggested, although his tone wasn't convincing anyone that he was really as optimistic as his words sounded.

"Or it could have been damaged," Marco added.

Mike approached just then, carrying an axe and a couple of shovels. "Back up is on the way, Cap."

Stanley nodded in acknowledgement. "We're going to need some chains, too. Mike, get the ones from the engine, and, Roy, bring the one from the squad."

The two men jogged back to the vehicles to get the requested items. As Roy climbed up onto the back of the squad, the news crew took that opportunity to approach him. As he climbed back down, he found a microphone shoved into his face and a young female reporter on the other side of it.

"Did you know that building was in danger of collapsing before you sent your man in?" the reporter asked.

"Yeah, we knew," Roy replied, as he tried to brush past.

"And you sent him in anyway?"

"There's a child in that building. We had to get it out, even if that meant taking a risk." Finding that he couldn't get past the reporter, he tried to go the other way around the squad, only to find it blocked by the camera and cameraman.

"It seems like a shame risking a man for an abandoned child," the reporter went on. "The kid's just going to wind up in the foster system, like all the other unwanted kids. It doesn't seem like it's worth it to risk the life of someone who's already made something of himself for a kid like that."

For a second, Roy almost forgot about trying to escape the duo as he stared at the reporter, wondering whether she was actually saying what he thought she was saying on live TV.

"Look, I wouldn't know anything about whether this kid's wanted or not or where he or she is going to wind up, and it really doesn't matter," Roy said. "All that matters is that there are now two human beings in there who need rescued, and you're getting in the way of doing that."

With that, he made good his escape and pushed past them. The reporter shouted one last question at him.

"Do you think there's any chance either of them are still alive?"

Roy didn't answer. He knew what the realistic answer to that question was, and he didn't like it.

EEEEE

As the debris settled around and on top of him, Johnny let out a groan. He hadn't actually lost consciousness, but the rush of debris falling on him had been to chaotic to be aware of anything else for a space of time which was impossible to tell whether it was long or short. His first thought was of the baby. A sick feeling that it might have been crushed underneath him passed over him. Then he took stock of his position. He had his knees tucked up underneath him and he was resting on his elbows. That left a space beneath him that hadn't been crushed.

Then the baby presented the best possible evidence for its life: it began to cry. It still sounded weak, but it was alive, and that was the main thing. Now the challenge was to figure out how to keep it—and himself—alive.

Johnny tried to move. He couldn't. There was a terrible weight pressing down on his back. He couldn't raise himself up under it enough to move either his arms or legs.

"Okay, we've got a problem here, little guy," he said to the baby. He wasn't sure which he was trying to reassure more: himself or the child, but if it was himself, the plan backfired. The voice was so husky and strained that Johnny barely recognized it. That scared him for a second, but then he cleared his throat and said in a voice closer to his normal one, ""I've got to find a way to get out from under this rubble, but I can't move unless you move first, and somehow I have a feeling you're not going to. You got any ideas?"

The baby only continued to cry. Johnny really couldn't blame it. Having a good cry sounded much more appealing than it usually did, but he knew that wouldn't help either. It would only make it harder to think, and it was already hard enough as it was. Johnny closed his eyes and forced himself to think this out rationally.

Debris had fallen onto him. He didn't know how badly he was injured. He still had enough adrenaline going that he didn't feel anything except a generalized pain all over. Once the adrenaline subsided, that pain was going to get a whole lot worse, and it was only going to get harder to think. Still, the fact that he was in pain was a hopeful sign. It meant he was still alive, of course, and it also meant that the debris on top of him wasn't enough to crush him. The whole building hadn't fallen on him, after all. It was just a very small portion, and above it was probably a pocket of air. It might not be very big and certainly wouldn't be very fresh, but it would be a whole lot nicer than Johnny's current position.

The problem was still how to get out of his current position. The first thing he had to do was move that debris. Very slowly, he tried rocking from left to right as well as he could. He could barely lift himself a quarter of an inch on either side, but if he didn't wear himself out first, this rocking might knock the debris off him. He prayed that it would.

Then, after he had almost given up on the experiment, he felt something shift. Part of the weight slid off. Johnny braced himself for more debris to fall, but none did. He now found that what was left on his back was light enough that he could raise himself up on his hands. The only problem with that is that as soon as he tried it, a pain shot through his right shoulder, prompting him to cry out in pain.

He dropped back into his original position, which eased the pain a bit. He squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his jaw until the pain passed enough to be tolerable.

"How about that, kid?" he said once it had. "I think we're pretty much loose, but I still can't move."

After a few more moments, he realized two things. First, his attempt to lift himself off had knocked nearly all the debris off behind him. Second, only his right shoulder hurt. If he only used his left arm, he might have better luck.

Grimacing as he expected more pain, Johnny attempted the experiment. It still hurt, but in comparison, this was nothing. His muscles and back protested a bit at the change of position, but even though it hurt, it was enough of a relief to move that Johnny didn't mind all that much.

Then he looked around him. He was still in the basement, but it was very different now. Half the ceiling was caved in completely and it looked like some of the building above there was caved in on top of it. Fortunately, the part of the room where Johnny and the baby were had only had all the plaster fall off the ceiling. That was what had fallen onto Johnny. Otherwise, this part of the room was open.

"Looks like somebody up there likes us," he told the baby. "A couple of yards farther, and we'd be toast." He looked up at the ceiling. "I don't think we're completely out of the woods yet, though. Let's see if we can get someplace where we'd a little better chance."

Awkwardly, he scooped the child up in his left arm. It wasn't something that could be done entirely one-handed, but it hurt too much to use his right hand, so Johnny did as little as possible with that one. Then he stood up. His legs felt strange and wobbly and his feet were asleep so that it stung to stand on them. Every inch of him hurt, but Johnny knew he couldn't just sit there and indulge in his pain. The ceiling was probably going to fall again, and if it did, the center of the room would be a poor choice to be.

Reeling a bit, Johnny carried the baby over to the wall farthest from the part of the room that had collapsed. He laid the baby right up against the wall and sat down himself. Of course, it wasn't perfectly safe, but being by a wall if the ceiling fell in would be a little better.

For a minute or two, Johnny just sat there with his eyes closed and his head bent, trying to make the pain in his shoulder go away by sheer willpower. That did no good, so he finally decided to try something more productive. He remembered the handy-talky on his belt and took it off. He pressed the button and tried to call for help, but no answer came. The chunk of plaster must have ruined the device.

"I guess we're on our own, kid," he told the baby. "I guess they know what happened. It's just a matter of waiting till they find us."

He took in a deep breath and instantly started coughing. By instinct, he reached for his oxygen mask. He only had it on a second before he remembered the baby. It hurt his shoulder more than anything else so far, but Johnny struggled out of the tank and leaned it up against the wall. Then he held the mask over the baby's face.

"Sorry about that," he said. "You probably need this more than me. Don't you worry about a thing. They'll get us out."

He wished he really believed that.