A Cry in the Park - A Bob's Burgers fanfic - by BobsBurgersStories1

A Cry in the Park - Part 12

The men continued working late into the night. As it had been over the past few days, the crowd had dispersed when it got too late for them. Only the reporters remained, and the journalists occasionally muttered to each other as they watched the proceedings.

The air seemed sombre; the two dozen volunteers scattered about the area only spoke when necessary – to communicate with whoever was working in the tunnel. Other than that, they were silent.

The reporters were sat behind the barriers, some resting their heads in their hands, others stretching back on the cool grass to catch a quick nap.

The men surrounding the rescue shaft were also sitting, with little else to do but wait their turn. Many of them were drinking coffee, trying to stay awake. The cold February air helped a lot.

It was now almost 3:45am; Louise had been trapped for five days. By the well, Charlie was sleeping, while Tim lay on his back, the headphones over his ears. He hadn't heard her make a sound for more than eight hours, but Cabell had been watching the camera, and she had been seen to move, so it was decided to let her sleep.

They were getting very close; the breakthrough was due at any moment, which was what they were all waiting for. The men were prepared; they had new tools, ready for when they reached the well. They had awls, a screwdriver-type device, to be used for making holes in the solid rock. They also had star drill hand tools. The diggers were currently using pickaxes and chisels, which were doing the job fine, but Richards and Davis wanted better tools.

Olsen and Ed were still awake, although Olsen was looking a little worse for wear. She was sat down, her back resting against a tree, her knees pulled up to her chest. She removed her jacket, and placed it over herself, resting her eyes for just a moment.

The eyes of almost everyone in the garden were fixed on the well; knowing that Louise was alive kept their spirits up, and as they were less than an inch away from her, they began to hope, hope that they would be able to save her.

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One of the diggers was lying on his stomach in the tunnel, holding a small pick-axe, digging above his head. It became more difficult the longer the tunnel got; the men had to lie on their stomachs with their tools stretched out in front of them. As he adjusted the tool slightly, he heard a new, different sound. He quickly wriggled forward as easily as he could, and wiped the dust and small, crumbly bits of rock away. Taking off his mask, he blew some more dust away and saw something dull and red. Removing his glove, he gently tapped it, a huge grin spreading over his face when he realised that it was the brick lining of the well. They had reached her.

   "Sir?" he quickly fumbled for his walkie-talkie, and heard the voice of the Fire Chief come through.

   "What is it?"

   "Sir, I've reached the well." Eric held the walkie-talkie away from his face; through it, and through the shaft, he could hear cheering.

   "That's great; how big of a hole have you made?"

   "I haven't made a hole yet, sir; I've just reached it."

   "Okay, carry on digging the rest of the tunnel, and when we're done, we'll send someone down to start removing the bricks. Good job!"

   "Yes, sir, thank you." Eric raised the pick-axe and continued to chip, digging the outline of the tunnel, working as quickly as he could.