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Nothing. Michael shined his flashlight in that direction. Tyler was still, his eyes closed. The metal bar still impaled his thigh.
But his chest rose and fell. He was still alive.
The light died, and Michael’s phone chimed a warning at him.
Low battery. 5% remaining.
Almost immediately, another text appeared from Hannah. When he opened it to try to reply, the phone died altogether.
Damn it! In the darkness, he patted the pockets of the next body he came to and found a phone. It was the older flip kind that probably wouldn’t take a picture. He moved on to the next body. An iPhone! Yes!
Passcode protected.
“Christ,” he muttered. Next body. An iPhone, though an older model. No passcode. A picture of a young girl and a boy as the background.
Kids.
Michael’s breathing shook as he felt his way up the body to find a pulse.
He almost cried when he found one.
He opened the texts and started a new one. He typed in Hannah’s number.
Phone died. Found a new one. Missed last message.–M
Asked if any burn victims?
This phone didn’t have a flashlight app, but Michael had seen enough to know that he hadn’t seen any burns.
No. Why?
Bomb squad investigating. Found fragments. Burn damage to building. Propane tanks intact. Still waiting on clearance to enter.
So a bomb had gone off. But no one was burned. And the propane tanks were intact? Had his ravine somehow insulated them from damage? Or had—
Then Michael realized.
Tyler. He was a Fire Elemental. Had his powers weakened the bomb, the way Michael’s powers had offered a way out of the blast path?
More dirt rained down the walls. Splintered planks of wood fell from above. Michael shoved his back against the ravine wall and sent power into the earth again.
“Steady,” he whispered. “Steady.” He could feel vehicles moving now, where they’d been still for the longest time.
He texted quickly.
Don’t move vehicles. Ground unstable.
It took a minute, but the motion stopped. Michael choked on his breath.
Hannah sent another text.
Are you in a basement? Can you send me pics of layout?
Michael aimed the phone up and started snapping pictures, trying to get the angles right. More debris fell from above and stung where it struck his face and forearms.
Then the flash lit up a face looking down at him from above.
“Hey!” Michael called into the darkness. He sent the photos to Hannah while he was peering up. “Hey! The edges aren’t stable! Be careful!”
