Chapter 56: The Skin on Our Teeth

1.75 HOURS UNTIL FAILSAFE

"BILL!"

Zoey's cry echoed throughout the pitch-black tunnel, her flashlight darting wildly to and fro in a desperate effort to find him. Rubble filled the length of the tunnel.

"Did he get caught in that...?" came Louis' small voice.

She didn't hear anything else, crawling on her hands and knees and scooping up rocks with both hands and tossing them aside. The clunking of the rubble echoed throughout the darkened tunnel as the two other men stood there, not quite sure what to do.

"Fucking help me!" the young woman yelled.

That seemed to snap them out of it, and they helped her to move aside the rubble at an agonisingly slow pace. No words were spoken between them as they worked, just an unspoken agreement that no one would be left behind. They would not leave the man who had gotten them all so far to be buried and forgotten.

They could not.

Zoey's heart skipped a beat when she felt something soft brush up against her palm. Her hand came away sticky. Her heart pounding, she let out a soft gasp when the beam of her flashlight fell upon a battered Bill. Still partially buried in the concrete, she could see deep cuts all over his face, including a long and jagged one going from the corner of his eye across his left cheek. The left side of his face was covered in blood.

"He's over here," she choked out, feeling her world unravelling around her.

With help of the others, the old man was gently pulled out and laid on the cold, hard floor of the tunnel before the cave-in, his eyes closed fast. Louis gently moved her aside and set to work checking him over. There was an agonising silence.

"He's not breathing..."

Zoey froze in terror at Louis' words. She looked on helplessly as he began chest compressions on Bill, softly counting out loud in the darkness. Francis' gloves creaked as he curled his fists, absolutely furious at what was happening. He looked around and spied the green beret and Colt M4 lying amidst the rubble.

"One... two... three... Come on, Bill," Louis pleaded softly.

The counting continued on into the darkness, but there was no change. Their leader lay still and lifeless on the cold, hard floor of the darkened tunnel. Zoey could see Louis getting more and more worn out by the minute, his voice strained as he appeared to be on the verge of giving up.

But she absolutely refused to allow this horrible tunnel to become Bill's tomb. Knocking Louis' hands aside, she pushed down on his chest with both hands, bending over and giving him mouth-to-mouth at the end of each compression sequence. Bill's chest rose and fell with the resuscitation, but never on its own.

Zoey felt her strength slipping away, but refused to give up. She would not just let him go.

To that end, she struggled and fought when she felt hands pulling her away. "Let go of me! Don't fucking touch me!" she shrieked, her voice bordering on hysterical.

"Get her off him," Francis said sternly, kneeling down and taking her place at Bill's side as Louis pried her off his body.

For a moment, she thought he was going to get up and order for them to move on, but gratitude flooded through her when she saw him continuing her efforts to resuscitate Bill. However, the feeling was soured when she saw the stiff, monotonous manner in which he was doing it. Francis was just going through the motions.

He had given up on Bill.

Time continued to march on relentlessly, yet no one knew how much had passed. It could have been two minutes, five or ten. No one knew the difference.

"We've done everything that we can," the biker finally announced, his voice low and sorrowful.

Zoey's arms hung loosely down by her sides as she was held there by Louis, her body trembling as she felt the tears spill over. Suddenly, she threw her arms up, knocking him away. "FUCK YOU, FRANCIS! WE'RE NOT LEAVING HIM BEHIND!" she screamed.

She collapsed to her knees and started the chest compressions again, breathing her life force into him. He had done the same for her when she lay on that dark beach, on the verge of death after the Slaters threw her to the river. She owed him the same and more.

She did not realise that her compressions had turned into beatings as she pounded Bill's chest in despair, tears running freely down her face.

"Zoey, stop it!" Louis yelled as he grabbed her from behind. He was fighting tears of his own as she fought back against him. Bill's body needed to be laid to rest.

The young woman fought with her entire being as she was pulled away. They did not understand. They could not understand. To them, they had lost a friend, a comrade.

But to her...

It was like losing him all over again.

She eventually crumbled and buried her head into Louis shoulder, at that moment wanting nothing more than to pass on into oblivion. Bill had been the light to guide them in this horrible new world. What would they do without him...?

"We need to keep moving," Francis said, his voice thick and heavy, and Louis nodded dumbly, still in shock over what had happened.

"We can't just leave him..." Zoey whispered. Their flashlights were no longer on Bill's body, but she knew it was still there, lying on the cold, hard floor of this dark tunnel.

"He won't be left to rot here," Louis murmured, gently guiding her away. He did not like it anymore than her, but... "Soon, the airforce is going to arrive, and this place will be set ablaze. Bill will be given a hero's funeral."

Zoey felt nothing but emptiness, and numbly allowed herself to led away. One step, two steps, three steps...

She stopped dead.

Something made her freeze in shock. It couldn't be...

The sound of someone gasping for air...

She whirled back around, but the beam from her flashlight was swallowed up by the darkness. Was she going crazy, had that quiet sound actually been...?

There it was again. Several agonisingly slow beats passed.

"Somebody, help me, please!"

The sound of his pleading voice was all it took to get everyone rushing back down the tunnel the way they came. "Bill!" Zoey cried out in joy, half-afraid that it had all been in her head.

The sound of shallow, laboured breathing was her response. By the soft light of the flashlights, she found him, sitting up beside the wall of rubble, looking battered, bewildered and pained, but alive.

She wrapped her arms around the grizzled elderly man and held him tightly, never wanting to let him go. However, she immediately released him when he screamed in pain. "Oh god, oh god, Bill, I'm so sorry!" she blabbed, supporting his weight.

"Where does it hurt?" Louis asked, coming over to him. He was beyond relieved, but everyone knew that the war veteran was not out of the woods yet. He had almost suffocated, and there could be internal injuries.

"Down here," Bill replied slowly, clenching his teeth in pain as he gestured over the right side of his chest. "It feels like I've broken a rib or two."

"They could just be bruised," Louis said hopefully, rummaging through the first-aid pack for gauze and wrapping.

It took much time and patience, and pain on Bill's part as he lifted his arms, but eventually they had him out of his t-shirt, and his chest wrapped. The old man winced as he was helped back into his shirt and jacket. The pain had subsided slightly, mostly thanks to the wrapping across his chest, but it was still very much there.

Zoey chewed on her lip nervously. "Do you think you can stand?"

He squared his jaw in determination, mentally preparing himself for the pain. After a moment, he nodded.

"Let's get you on your feet then, you tough old bastard," Francis replied, looping an arm over his shoulder while Louis got the other. While Zoey covered them with her pistol, they hoisted him to his feet as gently as they could, although he still he hissed in pain throughout the ordeal. The sight caused the former college girl distress, but at least it appeared as though Bill could stand and, apparently, walk.

"Thank god you're okay," she breathed, smiling softly at him. He tried to return it, only to double forward in a fit of hoarse coughing.

"Whoa, take it easy there, big guy," Louis chimed in, swinging his M-16 assault rifle over his shoulder and taking some of Bill's weight onto his own. "We don't want you collapsing on us."

"Yeah, and just when your badass counter passed mine," Francis said reproachfully. "We can't have you faintin' on us like a little pussy now."

Zoey burst out with a peal of laughter that echoed throughout the darkened place. The four survivors stood there for a moment in a companionable silence, hardly daring to believe their good fortune. They were not without their injuries – not that any of them had been expecting to come through the ordeal unscathed – but it was a straight shot from here to the runway.

The burly biker held the Colt M4 out to Bill, but the older man waved it away. "You hang onto it," he said in a gruff tone. "I'm in no shape to handling an assault rifle right now. My pistol will do me fine."

"Alright, then how about you take this back?"

There was complete silence in the tunnel as Francis held out the crumpled green beret. Finally, the veteran took it and placed it atop his head.

He flashed him a toothy grin. "Thanks. I think I'm startin' to like you, boy."

"Right back at ya, old man. Lead on."

With that, the team slowly but steadily moved forward down the tunnel, toward salvation. They did not notice that several loose rocks tumbled down the wall of rubble they left behind them.