heaven coming down part 2
Title: Heaven Coming Down Part 2
Author: Aelora and Pen_Of_Jen
Pairings: Anderson Cooper/Dan Abrams
Rating: R for violence, language, and possible smut down the road
Summary: Anderson Cooper and Dan Abrams are covering the next natural disaster; An earthquake has ripped through America’s heartland, leaving a path of devastation in its wake. The rivals find themselves fighting for the story, and in the end, fighting for their lives with only each other to rely on.
Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual person is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).
Any mention of 'AC 360', 'Verdict with Dan Abrams', 'MSNBC', 'CNN', any associated entities, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976, and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material.
**************BACK WITH CNN****************
As they pulled into the heart of the city, the damage up close was enormous. Buildings uprooted and lying across other buildings, glass coated everything with a fine powder as well as large shards that reflected the light of the sun making any place you stared capable of a blinding glare. Anderson watched out the windows, hypnotized by the destruction. He and Charlie exchanged glances as they passed a gutted daycare long abandoned with toys and children’s clothing strewn out into the road. The two men looked at the camera men, making sure they were capturing the powerful images as they passed.
They passed firemen fishing through rubble: one man resting on the curb, his dirty face pressed to his palms. Anderson’s heart broke as they passed men and women on the street in front of what must have been the shops and homes, crying and looking helpless and lost. Sirens and cries broke on the otherwise eerily silent streets, echoing through broken buildings and empty homes. A dog barked somewhere in the madness, causing Anderson to flinch.
Anderson stepped from their RV and onto uneven concrete, cracked by the vibrations. “It’s insane,” Anderson whispered into the air. He closed his eyes, allowing the sounds and smells of the leveled city to soak into his soul. Anderson was a shark, he smelled the blood, he circled and he went it for the kill. He opened his eyes and pointed to a large ornate building. “They platforms are a total loss, right? It’s probably an pretty expansive shot for a background.”
Charlie nodded, “I wonder how the city lights operate after dusk.”
“You think they’ll let us shoot that long?”
Charlie chuckled, “Who’s gonna stop us. This place is a ghost town Andy.” Charlie kicked at the rubble as he headed back to the truck to check on satellite operation. Anderson smiled as the MSNBC vans turned a corner and headed straight for them.
Charlie immediately changed his course stepping up to the RV and cussing at the driver, “Get out of here, we’ve already got claims on the platforms and this particular chunk of shit bomb.”
Dan popped his head out of the window, “You have no right to ‘claim’ anything.”
“Actually,” Charlie said pulling a piece of paper from a clip board and handing it to Dan, “this permit says that we have permission to be here from the governor. Can I see yours?”
Dan fumed, “Fuck the governor, and your ‘permit’.”
Charlie laughed, “Call the cops David, we’ve got rambo reporters without permits or state safety consultants on the loose.”
Dan stepped down from the truck, “State safety consultants? Kiss my ass.”
Another man stepped down from the CNN truck and stepped forward. “Officer Harrington, Missouri State Police Department. I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave the area until you have a state official with you. It’s for your own safety sir.”
Dan shrugged his shoulders, his crew and producers on their phones attempting to find ways to beat their current situation. Charlie turned and faced Dan again, “We’re going in, you guys feel free to join us when you have the appropriate clearance.”
Charlie patted Anderson’s shoulder as he slid past him back into the truck.
Anderson stared at Dan, a hint of pity in his eyes as he chewed on the side of his thumb nail. He stepped forward, “Like I said Dan, it’s nothing personal.”
Dan threw his arms up the air, the paper Charlie handed him drifting slowly back to the ground as Dan stormed onto their truck yelling out commands and demanding action.
Anderson rested cautiously against railing that hung overlooking the hole that the city metros had become. The view was incredible; as the sun set the lights that were still operational in the city sparkled on a jagged horizon. Anderson watched as the crew finished tweaking their lights, hoping that they wouldn’t block out the view of the damage.
“Anderson,” Charlie got his attention and motioned to the MSNBC crew moving into position about twenty yards from them. Officer Harrington approached Charlie and shook his head. “Fuck, we’ve got some competition, so don’t just be pretty, be charming.”
Anderson giggled, worrying his bottom lip as he smiled over at Dan. He could just make out Dan’s smile, and he nodded his head as a sign of professional respect and personal appreciation at the man‘s struggle and accomplishment.
Anderson looked down at his watch, 8:27 p.m. He was set to air in about half an hour, Dan was obviously going to try for the same time slot, having missed his own in order to get an officer to work with his team and acquire the appropriate permits.
Anderson felt guilty for forcing Dan to jump through hoops to get the story to his viewers, then he realized that tonight his viewers would be Anderson’s viewers and he shook the feeling, forming a stronger resolve than ever to bring his audience the best possible coverage.
He rubbed the back of his neck and decided to get a drink before he went on air. The crew was lounging comfortably around the RV, and it was only when Anderson heard a cracking noise that he turned away from them. “Did you hear anything?”
Anderson hurried back into the metro building. He was not ten yards from his crew, and quickly surveyed the set up to see what had gone wrong. Suddenly, the Earth rumbled (the only sign of trouble a loud crack overhead), and then the ground disappeared beneath him.
**********BACK TO YOU DAN ABRAMS***********
The first conscious thought Dan had as he awoke was that his head hurt, badly. He reached up to rub the hurt away, only to still when his hand touched something wet and warm. He was a bit surprised at the state of calm that settled over him as he realized there was a rather large gash across his forehead, blood flowing down from it over his face. He wiped at it, clearing it from his left eye in an attempt to see and assess what exactly had happened.
He remembered wandering away from his crew, in an attempt to calm his nerves before going on air. Every interaction with Anderson Cooper in the last few hours had set him on edge, and the last thing he needed was for that to come across to his viewers. The catastrophe surrounding them was enough to deal with; the scene outside of the daycare had damn near broken his heart in two. There's a lot he can handle; bad things happening to innocent children is not one of them. Cooper's superior attitude on top of that had been just enough to topple Dan's anger into outright rage. He'd yelled at Ted, the camera man, when the guy had done nothing wrong, and then proceeded to chew out his producer, Joel, over the phone until he was hung up on. Dan figured he kind of deserved that.
He'd been going over his notes when he'd heard an odd rumble, like a train going by. It was then he'd felt the ground begin to move beneath his feet. Someone on his crew had yelled "Aftershock!" and then he'd been falling, and everything had gone black.
After replaying the events over in his mind, and being certain he remembered the little things like his name, his birth date, and the names of some of his ex-girlfriends, Dan gingerly moved into a sitting position. Nausea completely overwhelmed him at the action, and he sat there, swaying for the next few moments, eyes closed, trying not to lose the very light meal he'd had earlier. He stilled his movement when off to the side he heard the rattle of falling debris - little bits at first, like crumbling concrete and then an ominous creaking. His fingers gripped the rubble beneath him as he held his breath. He couldn't see for shit, and that made the sounds around him that much more troubling.
Please, I don't want to die here, he thought to himself, heartbeat calming only when the creaking around him ended.
Dan allowed himself to relax, if only a little, just enough to assess the rest of the damage to his person. His wrist ached beyond knowing, and when he touched it with his fingers, he winced not only at the pain but at the obvious swelling around it. Luckily, it was his right hand, so he could be careful not to use it unless necessary. Everything else seemed to work okay - his legs were fine, other than some apparent bruises and cuts. His left shoulder was sore but he didn't think it was anything debilitating. It was his head Dan knew he most had to worry about.
Once certain he could move, Dan carefully attempted to stand, which proved next to impossible because whatever had been above him was now about five feet off the ground from his feet. He's never exactly been known as a tall man, so he thought it was a sad state of affairs when Dan Abrams had to duck.
His eyes were slowly beginning to adjust, just enough to realize there were pinprick-sized shafts of light appearing here and there from above. A good sign that he'd be able to get out eventually. Reaching into his pocket, he found his blackberry and pulled it out, hoping to get some sort of signal. Unfortunately, it wasn't working at all. Not even a flicker of a light. Sighing, he Dan slipped it back into his pocket and decided to try to find his way out.
Feeling his way through the darkness, Dan stopped when he heard a noise off to his right.
"Hello?" He called out, a little afraid to make too much noise. "Is anybody here?"
When no reply was forthcoming, Dan reached out with his hand, lightly touching the fallen structures around him, carefully making his way around. Occasionally, he tripped over pieces of debris, always panicking at first at what he might find. The further he was allowed to move through the darkness, the more certain he was that it had all come down, which included his crew, and possible those around them.
"Ted?" He called out. "Kate? Can anyone hear me?"
It was growing darker. The small shafts of light had given way to little of anything. He could barely make out his hand when he held it in front of his face. He slowed his movement as the ceiling above him seemed to drop lower, almost forcing him to his knees. Holding his left arm out in front of him, Dan tried to watch out for impediments in his progress but they grew ever more difficult to avoid. He was just about ready to turn and try to go back to where he woke up when his hand hit something metal and smooth. He tapped it a few times, realizing it felt like the side of an automobile - the van!
Dan followed the wall, knots forming in his stomach as his fingers moved along sharp curves and bends that shouldn't have been there. His mind refused to process the fact that the ceiling was already far lower than the top of the van would have been. His hand hit a door handle that was barely attached to a door that was completely misshapen. Kneeling, he hissed as a piece of glass dug into his knee. He brushed it off and then reached around the door, stilling when his hand came into contact with a body. He bit his lip, touching the arm, attempting to identify whoever it was by their shirt but having little luck. He hadn't paid that much attention to his crew, and he suddenly hated himself for that. It was when his fingers grazed the tell-tale mechanical pencil in the front shirt pocket that Dan knew he'd found Ted.
"Hello?" He said softly, gently shaking him. "Ted? Are you all right?"
Taking a deep breath, he continued his hand upwards, hoping to find a pulse but when he reached the shoulder, and the area where a neck should have been, his hand encountered a too-soft and warm substance, and then the barrier of the debris above.
"Oh God!"
Dan threw himself backwards, scrambling over the ground, ignoring for the moment the pain shooting up his arm as he used his right wrist. Breathing was suddenly difficult; the nausea from earlier returned with greater force, and he twisted around, throwing up what little was in his stomach. Shuddering, he slipped back to the ground, afraid to move, fearing what else he might find. His crew had been in and around the van. He tried not to think much beyond that thought.
The last time he'd been this afraid, he'd just been told he had cancer.
***********ANDERSON, YOU WITH US?***********
Anderson sputtered, the dust and blood that spewed from his lips fluttering into his eyes. He moved to wipe at them and realized that he couldn’t move his right arm. He blinked, and then rolled over, pushing rocks and wood off of his side. He lifted his arm slowly, the pain and numbness slowly registering as he tried to let his eyes adjust to the darkness.
He took a breath and moved his legs. He rubbed the back of his head, verifying that it was in tact. There was a wound there, a sore spot, but he was conscious, and it didn’t seem to be bleeding profusely. He told himself that was a good sign, and forced himself to sit up.
He reached beneath him, bracing himself to stand and noticing the pain in his hips and back for the first time. The rumbled beneath him was jagged, and he assumed that most of his injuries could be explained by the fall. From the large stones that lay around him, he told himself he was lucky to be alive.
The thought woke up his senses, ‘people must be dead, hurt, there were other people here.’ He tried to yell out, but his throat was dry and only a squeak escaped his lips. He cleared his throat, producing spit and swallowing it. “Hello?” his voice was still weak, but it grew in strength as he repeated himself, “HELLO?! Can anyone hear me?”
Concern for himself immediately disappeared, “Is anyone there? Anyone hurt?” He heard what sounded like a moan but could easily have been rubble settling, and decided to move. He forced himself to his feet, barely able to hold himself up, and ran his hand along what appeared to be a thick wall of piled rubble to his side. He stepped along it carefully, his hand leading him, feeling out the ground with his toes before each step as heslowly pressed forward. “HELLO?!?!”
As he stepped forward the moans became louder, and began to sound more like muffled screams. “It’s ok, whoever you are, I will find you!” he yelled stepping more quickly until his feet ran into something that gave beneath him. He tripped, landing on top of a person; the wet gooey substance that his hand slid in telling him already that this was not the source of the sounds.
“FUCK!” he cried out, pushing himself back off of the body. “FUCK!” he curled in on himself, pressing his back to the wall of rubble, his knees pressed tightly to his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I shouldn’t have brought us this close…I am so sorry.”
The tears rolled down his face, the sadness giving way to bitterness and the copper taste of blood in his mouth. He wiped his hands roughly on his pants, attempting to rid them of the evidence that he was trapped with at least one body somewhere in St. Louis.
He rested his head back against the wall, trying to steady his breathing. “Get it together Anderson, they know where you are, they’ll come for you.”
It only took a moment for his calm to fade and his fear and rage to take over. He stood up and pounded his hands on the wall screaming as loudly as he could, “I’M DOWN HERE! HELP ME! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!? PLEASE HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME! THERE’S A BODY HERE AND ME. I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING, HELP ME! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!? IS SOMEONE THERE?”
The muffled noises got louder, and he could soon make out that the noise was coming from the other side of the wall. “Hello?!?!”
He heard shuffling rocks, and he began to run his hands along the wall and dig at the smaller pieces of rubble that made it up. “HELLO!?!?”
“HELLO!?!?!” he heard clearly as he threw a large rock over his shoulder. There was a small hole in the wall now, one that a tiny amount of light came through. “HELLO! I’m here, don’t leave me!”
He could feel the rubble shifting as someone else tore at the other side, he ran his hands along the rubble tearing away whatever pieces he could. “HELLO?!”
“It’s Dan Abrams,” the voice yelled, “Who is there? Are you hurt? Can you get out?”
Anderson laid his head against the wall, the fear in his stomach slowly fading as the tears of relief slid down his cheeks. “DAN! IT’S ANDERSON! I’M HERE…”
Author: Aelora and Pen_Of_Jen
Pairings: Anderson Cooper/Dan Abrams
Rating: R for violence, language, and possible smut down the road
Summary: Anderson Cooper and Dan Abrams are covering the next natural disaster; An earthquake has ripped through America’s heartland, leaving a path of devastation in its wake. The rivals find themselves fighting for the story, and in the end, fighting for their lives with only each other to rely on.
Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual person is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).
Any mention of 'AC 360', 'Verdict with Dan Abrams', 'MSNBC', 'CNN', any associated entities, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976, and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material.
**************BACK WITH CNN****************
As they pulled into the heart of the city, the damage up close was enormous. Buildings uprooted and lying across other buildings, glass coated everything with a fine powder as well as large shards that reflected the light of the sun making any place you stared capable of a blinding glare. Anderson watched out the windows, hypnotized by the destruction. He and Charlie exchanged glances as they passed a gutted daycare long abandoned with toys and children’s clothing strewn out into the road. The two men looked at the camera men, making sure they were capturing the powerful images as they passed.
They passed firemen fishing through rubble: one man resting on the curb, his dirty face pressed to his palms. Anderson’s heart broke as they passed men and women on the street in front of what must have been the shops and homes, crying and looking helpless and lost. Sirens and cries broke on the otherwise eerily silent streets, echoing through broken buildings and empty homes. A dog barked somewhere in the madness, causing Anderson to flinch.
Anderson stepped from their RV and onto uneven concrete, cracked by the vibrations. “It’s insane,” Anderson whispered into the air. He closed his eyes, allowing the sounds and smells of the leveled city to soak into his soul. Anderson was a shark, he smelled the blood, he circled and he went it for the kill. He opened his eyes and pointed to a large ornate building. “They platforms are a total loss, right? It’s probably an pretty expansive shot for a background.”
Charlie nodded, “I wonder how the city lights operate after dusk.”
“You think they’ll let us shoot that long?”
Charlie chuckled, “Who’s gonna stop us. This place is a ghost town Andy.” Charlie kicked at the rubble as he headed back to the truck to check on satellite operation. Anderson smiled as the MSNBC vans turned a corner and headed straight for them.
Charlie immediately changed his course stepping up to the RV and cussing at the driver, “Get out of here, we’ve already got claims on the platforms and this particular chunk of shit bomb.”
Dan popped his head out of the window, “You have no right to ‘claim’ anything.”
“Actually,” Charlie said pulling a piece of paper from a clip board and handing it to Dan, “this permit says that we have permission to be here from the governor. Can I see yours?”
Dan fumed, “Fuck the governor, and your ‘permit’.”
Charlie laughed, “Call the cops David, we’ve got rambo reporters without permits or state safety consultants on the loose.”
Dan stepped down from the truck, “State safety consultants? Kiss my ass.”
Another man stepped down from the CNN truck and stepped forward. “Officer Harrington, Missouri State Police Department. I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave the area until you have a state official with you. It’s for your own safety sir.”
Dan shrugged his shoulders, his crew and producers on their phones attempting to find ways to beat their current situation. Charlie turned and faced Dan again, “We’re going in, you guys feel free to join us when you have the appropriate clearance.”
Charlie patted Anderson’s shoulder as he slid past him back into the truck.
Anderson stared at Dan, a hint of pity in his eyes as he chewed on the side of his thumb nail. He stepped forward, “Like I said Dan, it’s nothing personal.”
Dan threw his arms up the air, the paper Charlie handed him drifting slowly back to the ground as Dan stormed onto their truck yelling out commands and demanding action.
Anderson rested cautiously against railing that hung overlooking the hole that the city metros had become. The view was incredible; as the sun set the lights that were still operational in the city sparkled on a jagged horizon. Anderson watched as the crew finished tweaking their lights, hoping that they wouldn’t block out the view of the damage.
“Anderson,” Charlie got his attention and motioned to the MSNBC crew moving into position about twenty yards from them. Officer Harrington approached Charlie and shook his head. “Fuck, we’ve got some competition, so don’t just be pretty, be charming.”
Anderson giggled, worrying his bottom lip as he smiled over at Dan. He could just make out Dan’s smile, and he nodded his head as a sign of professional respect and personal appreciation at the man‘s struggle and accomplishment.
Anderson looked down at his watch, 8:27 p.m. He was set to air in about half an hour, Dan was obviously going to try for the same time slot, having missed his own in order to get an officer to work with his team and acquire the appropriate permits.
Anderson felt guilty for forcing Dan to jump through hoops to get the story to his viewers, then he realized that tonight his viewers would be Anderson’s viewers and he shook the feeling, forming a stronger resolve than ever to bring his audience the best possible coverage.
He rubbed the back of his neck and decided to get a drink before he went on air. The crew was lounging comfortably around the RV, and it was only when Anderson heard a cracking noise that he turned away from them. “Did you hear anything?”
Anderson hurried back into the metro building. He was not ten yards from his crew, and quickly surveyed the set up to see what had gone wrong. Suddenly, the Earth rumbled (the only sign of trouble a loud crack overhead), and then the ground disappeared beneath him.
**********BACK TO YOU DAN ABRAMS***********
The first conscious thought Dan had as he awoke was that his head hurt, badly. He reached up to rub the hurt away, only to still when his hand touched something wet and warm. He was a bit surprised at the state of calm that settled over him as he realized there was a rather large gash across his forehead, blood flowing down from it over his face. He wiped at it, clearing it from his left eye in an attempt to see and assess what exactly had happened.
He remembered wandering away from his crew, in an attempt to calm his nerves before going on air. Every interaction with Anderson Cooper in the last few hours had set him on edge, and the last thing he needed was for that to come across to his viewers. The catastrophe surrounding them was enough to deal with; the scene outside of the daycare had damn near broken his heart in two. There's a lot he can handle; bad things happening to innocent children is not one of them. Cooper's superior attitude on top of that had been just enough to topple Dan's anger into outright rage. He'd yelled at Ted, the camera man, when the guy had done nothing wrong, and then proceeded to chew out his producer, Joel, over the phone until he was hung up on. Dan figured he kind of deserved that.
He'd been going over his notes when he'd heard an odd rumble, like a train going by. It was then he'd felt the ground begin to move beneath his feet. Someone on his crew had yelled "Aftershock!" and then he'd been falling, and everything had gone black.
After replaying the events over in his mind, and being certain he remembered the little things like his name, his birth date, and the names of some of his ex-girlfriends, Dan gingerly moved into a sitting position. Nausea completely overwhelmed him at the action, and he sat there, swaying for the next few moments, eyes closed, trying not to lose the very light meal he'd had earlier. He stilled his movement when off to the side he heard the rattle of falling debris - little bits at first, like crumbling concrete and then an ominous creaking. His fingers gripped the rubble beneath him as he held his breath. He couldn't see for shit, and that made the sounds around him that much more troubling.
Please, I don't want to die here, he thought to himself, heartbeat calming only when the creaking around him ended.
Dan allowed himself to relax, if only a little, just enough to assess the rest of the damage to his person. His wrist ached beyond knowing, and when he touched it with his fingers, he winced not only at the pain but at the obvious swelling around it. Luckily, it was his right hand, so he could be careful not to use it unless necessary. Everything else seemed to work okay - his legs were fine, other than some apparent bruises and cuts. His left shoulder was sore but he didn't think it was anything debilitating. It was his head Dan knew he most had to worry about.
Once certain he could move, Dan carefully attempted to stand, which proved next to impossible because whatever had been above him was now about five feet off the ground from his feet. He's never exactly been known as a tall man, so he thought it was a sad state of affairs when Dan Abrams had to duck.
His eyes were slowly beginning to adjust, just enough to realize there were pinprick-sized shafts of light appearing here and there from above. A good sign that he'd be able to get out eventually. Reaching into his pocket, he found his blackberry and pulled it out, hoping to get some sort of signal. Unfortunately, it wasn't working at all. Not even a flicker of a light. Sighing, he Dan slipped it back into his pocket and decided to try to find his way out.
Feeling his way through the darkness, Dan stopped when he heard a noise off to his right.
"Hello?" He called out, a little afraid to make too much noise. "Is anybody here?"
When no reply was forthcoming, Dan reached out with his hand, lightly touching the fallen structures around him, carefully making his way around. Occasionally, he tripped over pieces of debris, always panicking at first at what he might find. The further he was allowed to move through the darkness, the more certain he was that it had all come down, which included his crew, and possible those around them.
"Ted?" He called out. "Kate? Can anyone hear me?"
It was growing darker. The small shafts of light had given way to little of anything. He could barely make out his hand when he held it in front of his face. He slowed his movement as the ceiling above him seemed to drop lower, almost forcing him to his knees. Holding his left arm out in front of him, Dan tried to watch out for impediments in his progress but they grew ever more difficult to avoid. He was just about ready to turn and try to go back to where he woke up when his hand hit something metal and smooth. He tapped it a few times, realizing it felt like the side of an automobile - the van!
Dan followed the wall, knots forming in his stomach as his fingers moved along sharp curves and bends that shouldn't have been there. His mind refused to process the fact that the ceiling was already far lower than the top of the van would have been. His hand hit a door handle that was barely attached to a door that was completely misshapen. Kneeling, he hissed as a piece of glass dug into his knee. He brushed it off and then reached around the door, stilling when his hand came into contact with a body. He bit his lip, touching the arm, attempting to identify whoever it was by their shirt but having little luck. He hadn't paid that much attention to his crew, and he suddenly hated himself for that. It was when his fingers grazed the tell-tale mechanical pencil in the front shirt pocket that Dan knew he'd found Ted.
"Hello?" He said softly, gently shaking him. "Ted? Are you all right?"
Taking a deep breath, he continued his hand upwards, hoping to find a pulse but when he reached the shoulder, and the area where a neck should have been, his hand encountered a too-soft and warm substance, and then the barrier of the debris above.
"Oh God!"
Dan threw himself backwards, scrambling over the ground, ignoring for the moment the pain shooting up his arm as he used his right wrist. Breathing was suddenly difficult; the nausea from earlier returned with greater force, and he twisted around, throwing up what little was in his stomach. Shuddering, he slipped back to the ground, afraid to move, fearing what else he might find. His crew had been in and around the van. He tried not to think much beyond that thought.
The last time he'd been this afraid, he'd just been told he had cancer.
***********ANDERSON, YOU WITH US?***********
Anderson sputtered, the dust and blood that spewed from his lips fluttering into his eyes. He moved to wipe at them and realized that he couldn’t move his right arm. He blinked, and then rolled over, pushing rocks and wood off of his side. He lifted his arm slowly, the pain and numbness slowly registering as he tried to let his eyes adjust to the darkness.
He took a breath and moved his legs. He rubbed the back of his head, verifying that it was in tact. There was a wound there, a sore spot, but he was conscious, and it didn’t seem to be bleeding profusely. He told himself that was a good sign, and forced himself to sit up.
He reached beneath him, bracing himself to stand and noticing the pain in his hips and back for the first time. The rumbled beneath him was jagged, and he assumed that most of his injuries could be explained by the fall. From the large stones that lay around him, he told himself he was lucky to be alive.
The thought woke up his senses, ‘people must be dead, hurt, there were other people here.’ He tried to yell out, but his throat was dry and only a squeak escaped his lips. He cleared his throat, producing spit and swallowing it. “Hello?” his voice was still weak, but it grew in strength as he repeated himself, “HELLO?! Can anyone hear me?”
Concern for himself immediately disappeared, “Is anyone there? Anyone hurt?” He heard what sounded like a moan but could easily have been rubble settling, and decided to move. He forced himself to his feet, barely able to hold himself up, and ran his hand along what appeared to be a thick wall of piled rubble to his side. He stepped along it carefully, his hand leading him, feeling out the ground with his toes before each step as heslowly pressed forward. “HELLO?!?!”
As he stepped forward the moans became louder, and began to sound more like muffled screams. “It’s ok, whoever you are, I will find you!” he yelled stepping more quickly until his feet ran into something that gave beneath him. He tripped, landing on top of a person; the wet gooey substance that his hand slid in telling him already that this was not the source of the sounds.
“FUCK!” he cried out, pushing himself back off of the body. “FUCK!” he curled in on himself, pressing his back to the wall of rubble, his knees pressed tightly to his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I shouldn’t have brought us this close…I am so sorry.”
The tears rolled down his face, the sadness giving way to bitterness and the copper taste of blood in his mouth. He wiped his hands roughly on his pants, attempting to rid them of the evidence that he was trapped with at least one body somewhere in St. Louis.
He rested his head back against the wall, trying to steady his breathing. “Get it together Anderson, they know where you are, they’ll come for you.”
It only took a moment for his calm to fade and his fear and rage to take over. He stood up and pounded his hands on the wall screaming as loudly as he could, “I’M DOWN HERE! HELP ME! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!? PLEASE HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME! THERE’S A BODY HERE AND ME. I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING, HELP ME! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!? IS SOMEONE THERE?”
The muffled noises got louder, and he could soon make out that the noise was coming from the other side of the wall. “Hello?!?!”
He heard shuffling rocks, and he began to run his hands along the wall and dig at the smaller pieces of rubble that made it up. “HELLO!?!?”
“HELLO!?!?!” he heard clearly as he threw a large rock over his shoulder. There was a small hole in the wall now, one that a tiny amount of light came through. “HELLO! I’m here, don’t leave me!”
He could feel the rubble shifting as someone else tore at the other side, he ran his hands along the rubble tearing away whatever pieces he could. “HELLO?!”
“It’s Dan Abrams,” the voice yelled, “Who is there? Are you hurt? Can you get out?”
Anderson laid his head against the wall, the fear in his stomach slowly fading as the tears of relief slid down his cheeks. “DAN! IT’S ANDERSON! I’M HERE…”