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It hurts.
She can’t see.
It had all happened so fast. They’re not supposed to get earthquakes here.
A voice breaks the silence, crackly through old radio speakers.
“Are you still there?”
International Rescue. The dispatcher. He never gave his name.
She presses the radio call button again– or at least she thinks she does. She can’t feel her fingers properly any more. That’s not good.
“Yeah,” she croaks. “Still here.” A pained chuckle slips from of her lips. “Nowhere else to go.”
“I know. Stay on the line, okay? I need you to keep talking so I can pinpoint your exact location.”
“Okay.” She pauses.
What should she talk about? It’s hard to think. Her head hurts, but her legs and stomach hurt worse.
Feels like she’s floating. Is she?
“What’s your name?” the voice on the radio asks, jerking her back to reality.
“Lucy.”
“How old are you, Lucy?”
It takes a moment to calculate. When she’d been a kid, she’d scoffed at the idea of ever forgetting her age. How times change.
“Thirty-two.”
“And what do you do for a living? What’s your job?”
“Teacher. Kindergarten teacher.”
That’s why she was at the school in the first place- it’s not term time, thank God, that starts next week, but she needed to sort out some paperwork and rearrange some stuff. And she’d been doing a damn good job of it, too, before the ground started shaking.
“Why did you decide to be a teacher?”
Easy. She loves children. And there's so much she loves about her job, she has no idea where to start. Helping them grow up into the best human beings they can be. The excitement and wonder they have for the world around them. The way they light up when they realise they can do whatever it is she's just spent ten minutes teaching them.
“I…” she trails off, sucks in another breath. It’s hard. The air, it feels thin. Thick, too, full of dust.
“Lucy? Are you all right?”
“Y– yeah,” Lucy manages, before dissolving into the most painful coughing fit she’s ever had.
Her lungs don’t hurt, but everything else does, the spasms travelling through her body, making every crushed inch of flesh scream in agony. The voice is tinny, echoing through her ears even as she gasps and chokes and splutters.
“Lucy?”
It hurts. God, it hurts so much.
“Lucy, are you there?”
Water. She needs water. Air, too.
“Lucy, I really need you to stay with me.”
Deep breath, spasm, breathe again.
“Lucy, please don’t leave me,” the voice says. “My brothers are almost there. They’re so close. Can’t you hear them?”
Can she? Can’t hear anything over the sound of her own coughing.
“Lucy…” the voice trails off. “Virgil, you’re practically on top of her. Can you scan the area?”
Button. Press the button. She has to press the button.
Lucy chokes on her own breath. Can’t feel her fingers. Can’t do it.
“Lucy?” the voice asks. “Are you still with me?”
She nods.
Yeah, still here. Still here.
Not going anywhere.
“Virgil, she’s not responding. Gordon, I’m sending you the coordinates to the closest emergency medical department.”
Voices. Distant. Not the voice.
Hard to breathe.
Bright light.
Clean air.
Blurry blue and green.
“John, I’ve got eyes on the last victim. She’s here. Starting medi-evac now.”