"Get Me" - one character saving another.
The concrete beneath his boots was solid. Then the ground rumbled, breaking the short peace of the afternoon. He aimed his Lancer, ready to fight, when he felt the ground shift beneath him. His legs were already moving but he had taken the time to look down, to see the concrete splinter and shatter like glass.
He was sinking.
The ground disappeared in a rush and he dropped his Lancer as he grappled for a hold along the edge of the pit. Looking down, he stared into the maw of hell; the heady scent of imulsion burned his nose and eyes. His heart pounded, his palms slick with sweat, and he panicked when he couldn't find purchase with his feet. He couldn't push his way out of the pit; his feet dangled uselessly beneath him. He couldn't pull himself up; his armor drug him down.
His strength quickly waned. His hands slid. Gritting his teeth, he dug his fingers into the sharp fragments of concrete and dirt.
He was going to die.
Either he would plunge into the darkness below or the Locust would come up and kill him. He held his breath as he heard movement. Something ricocheted and echoed behind him, a gurgling cry traveling down the tunnels. His hands slipped further, the weight of his armor making it impossible to claw his way back up.
Suddenly firm hands grabbed his arms. "Hang on, Baird! I got'cha, man, just hang on! Cole Train's here for you!"
Cole pulled until Baird's legs were free of the hole and he gasped for air away from the nauseating smell of imulsion. He rolled clear and ran with his partner towards the rest of the squad as the inhuman cry became louder.
Baird ducked into cover and pulled out his sidearm before slapping Cole's shoulder. "Thanks, man," he panted, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I owe you one."
Cole grinned. "No worries, baby. The Cole Train's always got your back, free of charge."