Bonnie was on the edge of panic. One minute, she had been standing in the Home Office with Kitt, Michael, and Devon. The next minute, she was underground. She could feel Michael's arm draped over her and hear him talking, though she couldn't make out the words. At least, not at first. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, she heard him clear as day.
"Easy, Bonnie, easy. It's okay –" Michael's voice was calm and steady.
"It is not okay, Michael," she said sharply.
"Listen to me, Bonnie. Close your eyes –"
"We're buried underground! I can't even see with my eyes open!"
"Then you might as well close them." He paused, then asked, "Are they closed?"
"Yes," Bonnie bit off, annoyed by his entirely reasonable and matter-of-fact tone.
"Okay, now tell me what you smell."
"What I . . .? Fine." Bonnie made a show of sniffing. She mostly smelled, well, Michael. Not that she was going to tell him that. So instead, she replied, "Dirt. Are you happy?"
"Yup. Now tell me what you taste."
"Taste?! Michael, did you take a blow to the head?"
"Probably," was the cheerful reply.
"Right. Taste." She paused, and then said, "Dirt. Let me guess: next is hearing."
"Close. Touch. Tell me what you feel. And not dirt a third time."
Bonnie felt Michael's body against hers, his arm over her. His presence was . . . comforting. But she wasn't going to tell him that, either. She thought a bit and then said, "I don't know. Air."
"Right. Which means?"
Realization dawned on her. "There's an opening somewhere. And fresh air is getting in."
"Right again." Michael was quietly serious. "We're not going to suffocate down here."
Bonnie took a deep breath and relaxed. "I'm sorry, Michael."
"No need to apologize, Bonnie. Now, last is hearing."
Bonnie listened carefully and heard a metallic tapping. "What on Earth is that?"
"Morse code. Devon's tapping on the Home Office. Letting us know he – and Kitt – are safe. And that help is on the way."
"Why not use your commlink with Kitt?"
Michael shifted his arm slightly. "Busted. You really need to make this thing a little more durable, Bonnie."
"How long –"
"Didn't say. But I'm guessing it'll be a while. Get comfy. Maybe take a nap."
Bonnie paused, then said, "On the bright side, here's that evidence you were looking for."
Michael chuckled. "Pretty conclusive, too. Hard to argue with a sinkhole big enough to swallow the back end of the Home Office."