“She’s alive,” Jason broke in.
There was a metallic pause. Kennedy said, “Say again, West?”
“She’s alive. I’m radioing for medical assist—”
A floorboard cracked behind him. Jason reached for his pistol. Too late he realized that the danger did not come from an intruder. The danger was the floor itself—it was giving way beneath his feet.
“…can you hear me?”
Wet.
Reeking, slimy wet.
What. The. Fuck.
“God damn this day. Jason?”
What was he lying in? What was he lying on?
Soft but not a good soft. A mushy, wet sponge.
Wait…
“Jason? West? Jason, can you hear me?”
Where was he? Jason blinked up at…a hole in the roof…and a white face hard with anxiety…and a hole in the roof over that white face…and the white face of the sun…
Even as he stared, the pallid sun slipped into shadow. Darkness fell across him.
Jason closed his eyes. He did not feel very well. He did not think moving would be a good idea.
The voice overhead was swearing quietly. “I’m coming down,” it said.
Coming down.
Jason’s eyes flew open.
No.
A still worse idea.
Enough things had already come down.
“Wait,” he got out.
“Jason?”
Kennedy.
That’s who that was.
His heart lifted. He liked Kennedy.
“Goddamn it, you scared the hell out of me,” Kennedy yelled. He did sound a little scared, but mostly he sounded angry.
“Here,” Jason croaked. “I’m right here.”
“I know where the hell you are,” Kennedy shouted. “Are you all right?”