“Sir, I don’t think we’ve been digging out the root cellar all this time,” he said. “I think we just found it!”
EVERYTHING INTENSIFIED AS our focus narrowed. Nobody said much while the crew cleared material out of that hole faster than ever. A bucket brigade went up, passing the dirt out of the barn, hand to hand.
Several times, the digging stopped and the soldiers pounded on the door with a shovel.
“Anyone there? Ethan? Zoe?”
So far, there was no answer.
As soon as they’d cleared enough space to cut a hole, two of the crew scrambled out and another soldier climbed down with a reciprocating saw.
A couple of seconds later, the barn filled up with a grinding, squealing sound as he drilled straight in. Then he changed direction and started slicing right through the steel.
It didn’t take long. Once most of the panel was cut, the soldiers used a pry bar to pull it back into the hole, rather than letting it fall through.
Then they cleared out and two EMTs took their place. I was less than six feet away from the digging. Several more medical staff waited nearby with a crash cart and two gurneys. There were also three ambulances in the yard, and two Sikorsky helicopters with aeromedical teams waiting out on the road.
One EMT got down on his belly and crawled straight back into the dark. The other handed through a medical field kit and then followed behind.
Everyone else seemed to hold their breath at the same time. In the silence, I said a prayer.
God, let them be there. Please. Let them be okay.
THEN ALMOST RIGHT away, one of the EMTs called up to us. His voice was hoarse — and excited. “Someone’s in here,” he said.
We waited. Everything was silent now. Everyone hopeful … yet afraid.
“We’ve got ’em. They’re both here.”
The rescuer kept his voice low, maybe for the kids’ sake, but I don’t think anything could have stopped the cheer that went up in that barn.
There were handshakes, and hugs, and tears on more than a few faces. The feeling of relief was indescribable. Mahoney gave me a hug. Then so did Sampson. Then even Peter Lindley did.
Agents Wardrip and Daya took over from there. They had the work lights turned way down, and they excused the military crew. Then they climbed into the hole to help bring Ethan and Zoe up themselves. A few minutes later, word came that the kids were ready to be brought out.
Zoe came first. It was a moment of true joy mixed with heartbreak to see the young girl, trembling all over and clinging to Wardrip as he carried her up the ladder.
Her clothes were just filthy rags, and her eyes were wide and glassy. But they weren’t vacant. She knew where she was.
They got Zoe onto a gurney and started oxygen and a saline drip right away. Then they covered her with a heavy blanket all the way up to the shoulders, until you could barely even see her anymore.
Wardrip stayed right there, speaking softly to her while they brought Ethan out.
He looked about the same as his sister, but smaller, more vulnerable if that was possible. As he came up from that prison where they’d spent the last two weeks, he was mumbling something against Daya’s shoulder, over and over.
I could see his dry, cracked lips moving, but I couldn’t hear him.
The second he was on his own gurney, Zoe reached out from under her blanket and took Ethan’s hand. Nobody tried to stop them or separate them.
They stared at each other like no one else was there, and her mouth started moving with his.
It was only as they were wheeled out past me, still holding hands, that I heard what they were saying.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh, thank you.”
The words couldn’t have been simpler, or more eloquent.
I WASN’T THINKING about anything but Ethan and Zoe when I came out of that barn. I wasn’t even thinking about Rodney Glass until I realized they’d already taken him away.