***
Holding her breath, Amelia squeezed her eyes closed and lips shut tight as the dust settled from the aftershock. Dots sparked on the back of her eyelids. She grew light-headed from lack of oxygen. But if she gasped too soon, she would choke on pure grit.
She cupped the back of Joshua’s head for protection. Precious little to offer, but the best she could offer. The top of her hand stung from something. Better her hand than his vulnerable skull. She was certain she felt him move, heard his tiny whimpers. Helplessness threatened to overwhelm her. How much more of this could she bear?
Consciousness faded. Her lungs screamed for air. Peeking carefully, she exhaled hard. Dust puffed ahead of her.
The thin light lancing through the dark reminded her she didn’t have to endure this alone. She had help.
Or did she?
Panic pierced her. “Are you here? Are you okay?” God, she didn’t even know his name. “Answer me, please. Let me know you’re alive.”
The slim glow didn’t move. Her savior stared back at her with piercing green intensity. A death stare? She stifled a scream.
He blinked.
She whimpered with relief.
“Hang tough,” he said slowly, shifting to pull a rock from under his side. “The worst is past. You okay?”
He was alive. They were all still alive. But for how long? She’d assumed because help had made it through, rescue had arrived. She hadn’t prepared herself for another earthquake. Hours of more waiting. The possibility they wouldn’t get out at all.
Concentrating on the positive seemed tougher and tougher. Hysteria frothed inside her all over again. She fought the urge to laugh like a lunatic. To sing a flipping chorus of “Tomorrow,” like Little Orphan Annie.
She gritted her teeth. Do not freak out. She wasn’t alone. The people above knew she was here alive.
“Hey,” her rescuer said, louder this time. “Are you okay? Need you to answer me.”
“I’m all right. Just a little dustier.” She pushed the words up and out, even though each one felt like broken glass scraping up her raw throat. She studied the hulking figure behind the light. She clung to the only visible sign of life, of hope, in this hellish tomb. “Did you hear Joshua cry during the aftershock? He’s okay, and now you have to know.”
He pressed two fingers to her wrist. Taking her pulse, no doubt.
“Amelia,” he said with unbelievable calm, his fingers warm and steady against her skin, “we’re going to get you both out of here.”
She noticed he didn’t agree to having heard her nephew. Her lawyerly ear that helped her ferret out nuances in witness testimony was a curse right now. “How much longer do you have on that battery?”
“Long enough. Keep the faith. My guys are close.”
“How can you be sure?” She hated the hysteria creeping into her voice.
“I know,” he answered simply. “It’s what we do. I understand how we think.”
She laughed hoarsely. “So they’re all as crazy as you are…? I don’t even know what to call you.”
“My name is Hugh.” His large competent hands slid from her wrist to her IV, jiggling the needle, applying a new strip of tape.
The enormity of what he was doing for her and for Joshua flooded through her.
“Hugh…” She tested the lone syllable and accustomed herself to putting a name with the fuzzy blur who was risking his life to save hers. “Hugh, what makes you do something like this for a living? I can’t imagine anybody willingly coming down here.”
“What can I say?” He settled onto his side, stowing his gear. “I was the kid who climbed trees to rescue stranded cats.”
“No kidding?” She grasped at the piece of normalcy.
“When I was seven, the neighbor’s Siamese got stuck in a big old oak. The family called the fire department, but it was going to take a while for them to get there because of a three-alarm blaze on the other side of town.”
His smooth-as-bourbon bass voice filled the cave with an intoxicating calm. “The neighbor girl was bawling her eyes out. So I figured, why wait? I’d climbed that tree a hundred times.”