Chapter 5

Calling for help until she was hoarse, Hannah struggled to control the fear that was taking over. A small part of her brain told her the longer it went with no one responding, the less chance someone probably would. However, she pushed that little voice down inside of her, refusing to listen.

"If they can't come to me, I'll just go to them," Hannah stated, the wavering of her voice conflicting with the determination of her words. She stood, her knees shaking as she paused, trying fruitlessly to get her bearing in the internal darkness.

Slowly sliding her feet forward across the uneven floor, Hannah put her hands out searching, jerking to a stop when her hand hit something. Feeling around, she realized it must be a wall and followed it, stumbling once or twice as she encountered piles of fallen debris.

Her brow furrowed when Hannah she felt something different jutting from the wall. Rubbing her scraped up hands across the cool metal, she realized she must have found the stairs. From the direction of the rail, she figured she must be at the bottom, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember going down them.

"Unless this is heading upstairs," Hannah rubbed her, aching forehead in confusion. But that railing isn't metal, she recalled, running her fingers through her dust laden brown hair. "I've got to be in the basement," she muttered aloud, more confused as ever as to how to got down there, while she continued feeling along the wall.

Did I follow Myles down here? she wondered, trying to remember the moments just before the explosion. If I did, where is he? she thought with a sigh. He wasn't the way I came.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, Hannah struggled with the conflicting emotions inside her. Part of her told her to climb the stairs towards what she was sure to be some help. However, a stronger urge pushed her away from the steps, her hands groping the wall where a pile of debris blocked her path.

Hannah continued searching, seeking. For what, she didn't know, but she had to find it. It was drawing her to it. Even though she couldn't see it, she could feel it almost as if it had her hand pulling her.

"I'm coming," Hannah whispered, the lure getting stronger with every passing second, with every heartbeat.

Hiking up the skirt of her evening gown, Hannah carefully climbed over the rock, brick, and debris in her way. Hoping she wasn't making things worse for her rescuers, she couldn't stop herself. Despite her care, she lost her footing, sliding down the pile, landing with a thud at the bottom.

"Ouch," she moaned her derriere smarting from the impact as she wiped her hands on her already dirty and torn dress. "Myles, where are you?" Hannah whispered with worry, half to herself.

Suddenly, there was a sound…soft and low, but she heard it. Hannah turned her head, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. It seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, echoing off the concrete walls around her.

Ug! If only I could see! she groaned, slamming her hand against the floor in frustration.

The sound came again and Hannah turned putting her hand out. Was it coming from the pile I just crawled across? she wondered, pushing herself up. Slowly, she worked her hands across the pile of rocks and bricks, listening and feeling as she went.

"Myles!" she called out loudly, standing on her tiptoes trying to feel around the corner that was blocked by debris, hoping the noise she heard was him.

"What!" his voice bellowed next to her, startling her so bad that she lost her balance, falling into the rubble, and then rolling down to land sprawled across the chest of the man buried beneath it.

"Ow," Myles groaned in obvious pain. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for you," Hannah snapped, awkwardly pushing herself off him, having recognized that distinctive New England accent.

"Well, I believe you found me," Myles moaned. "Great investigative work," he bit disdainfully

"Ah, sorry, but if you wouldn't have yelled, I wouldn't have fallen," Hannah murmured, turning her face away front him as a pink blush tinged her cheeks. Why did something like that have to happen around him of all people? she wondered embarrassed.

"I'm less than five feet from you. How hard could it have been to look down?" he questioned sarcastically, though his cynical comments didn't hide the pain in his voice.

"We need to get out of here," Hannah whispered through clinched teeth, getting confirmation for the first time that there was something wrong with her eyes and not just dark in here. She wanted so much to respond to his caustic remarks. But now wasn't the time, she reminded herself shakily, recalling her promise to pick her battles with the tall blonde agent. "Are you hurt?" she asked tentatively, twisting her fingers together in front of her. Even though she couldn't see him, she could almost feel his eyes on her.

"Am I hurt?" Myles repeated mockingly. "Well, I think that's apparent."

"What do you mean?" Hannah questioned, her head snapping back around towards the sound of his voice, her patience waning.

"I mean the pile of bricks on my legs should have been a clue, Special Agent Starr!" Myles barked cruelly, his pain getting the better of him. "You are part of a F.B.I. surveillance team. If you didn't see them, maybe you need to think about a transfer!"

"Actually, no, I didn't see them, Mr. High and Mighty Myles Leland the Third!" Hannah shouted, finally losing her cool. "I haven't seen much of anything since I woke up after the explosion, Mr. Know-It-All Special Agent," her anger boiling over. The tension was thick in the room as the silence hung between them.