Double Crossed

Concrete Deafness

I wish I could say I woke up with a dry mouth in a white, pristine hospital room, surrounded by my family and friends. I wish I could say the building falling around me was the last thing I remembered before waking up, safe and sound, no threat of complete disaster. I wish I could say the morphine pumping through my veins was numbing the pain to a dull thud.

But I can't say any of that. There is no hospital, no safety, and definitely no morphine, that I'm sure of. My eyes open and all I see is grey, the dust is so thick I can't even see the concrete surrounding me. I'm forced to close my eyes again, the dust and light too much for my senses.

It's only when my eyes are closed that I begin to have feeling back in my body, and I seriously wish I didn't. It feels like my lungs have collapsed, breathing is scarce and I've lost so much blood from my shoulder I can't feel it. I try to move my head to look at it but when I do it makes contact with what I can only assume is concrete.

Pined and unable to move, I can almost feel myself dying, and what's an even worse feeling is knowing there's no one coming. All I know is that Derek wasn't in the room with us when it collapsed, he disappeared a while before then. The others didn't notice, but I did. It's my job to notice. I knew he was up to something, but in our situation I knew I couldn't ask him that would mean he'd be spotted leaving and stopped, probably killed. I had to trust him.

But now, feeling the blood leaving my body, I wonder if it was the right choice. I don't know Derek's location or if he survived and he sure doesn't know our situation right now. He's probably buried or already dead. It's not like I have any chance to make a different choice, though. I trusted my instincts, and they were saying to trust Derek, he had a plan and something tells me it's not finished yet. If Derek blew up Hecate's headquarters with us inside, then he had a good reason, and he sure knew we wouldn't go down that easily.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, I keeping thinking of ways to remove the concrete, but I still can't move or feel my right arm in any way and I'm starting to fear the worst. Positioning my left arm in the center, compensating for my right arm, I'm able to use my legs and back to try and move the debris covering me. Although I don't get more than a centimeter off the ground, it is enough to turn my head to take in my damaged arm, the dust having settled enough to see.

However, almost immediately after my attempt at freedom I begin to feel the weight shifting on top of me followed by vibrations through the floor. Only two scenarios can cause this type of movement, either more debris is collapsing and I will soon be crushed, or Derek has come back to look for us.

The concrete slab is lifted off of me and instantly my lungs fill with an amount of air I'd forgotten they could hold. I start gasping for breath, inhaling the oxygen like water on a hot summer day, vaguely I can hear someone calling me but I can't understand them. The ringing in my ears seems to come out of nowhere, even though I'm sure it's been there the whole time, I'm only noticing it now. The explosion must have done something. Derek pushes other debris off of me before gently picking me up off the floor.

I feel one of Derek's arms under my knees and the other supporting my back before my eyes come into focus. When they do they see a deep gash starting on his forehead and ending mid-cheek, his face is covered in dirt and blood from his gash. Derek's mouth is also moving but I can't hear him, instead of sound everything seems to be dulled by a loud ringing, almost as if someone has surgically inserted a phone in my ears.

Shifting my weight in his arms Derek looks like he's struggling to hold me, but he touches my arm wrong and a series of immense pain shoots through my arm and up my spine, causing me to cry out. He starts to panic, fearing he's done something to hurt me, but instead he catches a glance at my mangled arm and a worried look crosses his face.