Page 243 of Hidden Tide
Three knocks.
Pause.
Three more.
Scott runs.
“He’s alive.”
My knees weaken.
Marquez catches my arm.
“I told you,” I whisper.
The words break apart as relief rushes through me.
Scott and Mark reach the collapsed wall. A steel support beam has fallen across the passage. Beneath it, a gloved hand appears through a narrow opening.
“Ben,” Scott calls. “Talk to me.”
“I’ve had better nights.”
His voice is weak.
But it’s his.
I cover my mouth as tears fill my eyes.
Piers drops beside the opening.
“Are you trapped?”
“My leg.”
“Can you feel it?”
“I can feel too much of it.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“Your bedside manner needs work.”
“You’re complaining. Also reassuring.”
Scott shines his light through the opening.
Ben lies on his side beneath a section of broken paneling. The steel beam pins his left leg against the floor.
Blood covers one sleeve, and a cut runs along his cheek.
Behind him, two people huddle against the wall.
One is a man.
The other is a teenage girl.
“Who’s with you?” Mark asks.
