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Eddie moved ahead of Buck in the partially-collapsed structure. His headlamp splashed across tilted walls and dust filtered lazily through the beam.
"LAFD!" he shouted into the darkness, "Anybody in here?"
They stooped and walked through a long tube painted with green and purple swirling stripes. It rocked gently as they moved. Buck could hear motors running and the sound of something grinding, as though the pipe were trying futility to spin in the direction of the swirling stripes.
They were responding to a call at the LA County Fairgrounds, far east of Los Angeles and well outside their typical jurisdiction, but wildfires in San Bernardino County had local resources stretched thin. Buck and Eddie had cleared the first three rooms of the structure and were making their way towards the center. A large pry bar hung from Eddie's belt and he carried a handsaw. Buck had a med bag slung over his shoulder. The arrangement was an outcome of a Sunday spent watching football.
("He'll make it."
"There's no way, it's 62 yards."
"Are you doubting Aubrey?"
"I'm not doubting. I'm just saying it's not going to happen."
"Wanna bet on it?")
Eddie and Buck emerged from the pipe into a mirror maze. Their headlamps bounced off of smudged plexiglas and crooked mirrors all around them. Eddie looked back at Buck.
"This thing looks like it was a death trap even before it collapsed. Why would someone pay money to come in here?"
"C'mon man, it's fun!"
Eddie shook his head. "Just because they call it a funhouse doesn't make it fun."
Buck was about to say something when their radios crackled. "....Diaz, Firefighter Buckley.... update....." Bobby's voice flickered in and out.
Buck held back, leaning his head in towards the radio.
"You there, Cap? We're having trouble hearing you."
"Buck.... location...."
Eddie looked back at him.
"Something in here is interfering. I'll head back a bit, see if it clears up."
Eddie nodded and gestured towards the maze with his head. "See you in there."
Buck turned back the way they had come.
".... kley, Diaz...." the radio fuzzed.
Buck stepped back through the giant pipe. Bobby's voice waxed into clarity as he moved.
"...Buckley, do you read?"
"I'm here, Cap. There's some interference towards the middle of the building."
"Copy that. What's your status?"
"We reached the mirror maze. No sign of anyone yet."
"Okay. Chim and Hen found a few people on the other side. If you guys get to the collapse point without seeing anyone, we can call it clear."
"Got it."
"Be careful, we still don't-- "
Bobby's voice cut off abruptly and a loud sound, like the groaning of an iceberg, echoed through the building. Buck only had a moment to move before the ceiling tilted towards him. He leapt backwards, into the striped tube. The tube held steady as the structure crashed and rumbled around him.
"Eddie!" Buck clambered towards the maze.
On the other side of the tunnel, walls tumbled inwards and fell against one another. Mirrors tilted sideways and transparent plexiglas bent and snapped. Dust filled the air, obscuring Buck's view into the room. The ground below Buck lurched and the large pipe started to turn to the side. He tripped, over-compensating for the movement, and fell forward onto his face. He scrambled forward, desperate to escape, as the tube rolled away under him.
Buck pulled himself forward towards the tunnel exit and began to slide under a collapsed section of ceiling that partially obstructed the opening. The crashing stopped and slowed as he moved, until almost everything was still. For a moment, the only sounds were the last few pieces of wood and metal clattering downwards.
"Eddie!" Buck yelled into the hazy dark.
The radio at his shoulder began to crackle. "Diaz, Buck sound off!"
Bobby's voice was clear now. Buck wondered if the secondary collapse had knocked out whatever had been causing the interference. He reached for his radio just as he pulled his torso out of the pipe. He realized, belatedly, that the tube had not begun rolling away, but, rather, had become unstuck and was spinning in place as it was designed to do. He looked back to see the painted stripes making lazy spirals around his legs. The other end of the tunnel was completely obscured by debris.
Buck depressed a button on the radio. "Buckley responding. I'm good, Cap."
"Diaz, do you copy?" Bobby's voice floated up in the dark.
There was no response.
"Diaz, do you copy?" Bobby called out again.
"EDDIE!" Buck screamed into the swirling dust.
A muted shout came back at him from somewhere in the ruins.
"This is Captain Nash for Firefighter Edmundo Diaz, do you copy?" Bobby sounded more urgent.
"Cap, I got him. No visual, but I can hear him." Buck spoke into his radio.
"Confirmed. What's his status?"
"Don't know. We.. we were separated."
Buck peered into the destroyed mirror maze ahead of him. The whole space had been compressed to about half its original height. Dust swirled gracefully in the beam of his headlamp. It illuminated splinters of clear acrylic and shattered mirrors that stuck out in every direction. Pieces of wall and painted two-by-fours lurched at odd angels. Undoubtedly, they were barely holding up the weight of the encroaching ceiling.
"I'm gonna go get him." Buck rotated the medical bag, still slung over his shoulder, so that it rested in the small of his back and began crawling forward on his hands and knees.
"Negative!" Bobby shouted. "The building is unstable. If you're clear, you need to stay put until we can get everything shored up."
"Sorry, no can do. I'm going after Eddie."
There was a pause. Then, "be careful, Buck."
"Copy," Buck responded. "Eddie! Where are you?!"
The same muffled shout came back. This time Buck could pinpoint it: at his one-o'clock, about 15 feet in.
Buck crawled forward, climbing over jagged pieces of thick broken plastic and under crooked wooden beams. The ceiling above him creaked ominously as he moved. He passed an intact plastic mirror laying on its side. It distorted his body, making him seem long and narrow. His reflection wiggled like a dachshund as he passed.
"Eddie! Eddie!" He called again as he closed in on the approximate location.
"I'm here!" The voice was still muffled, but this time, Buck could make out the words.
He rounded a jutting wall and shined his headlamp down a collapsed corridor, illuminating a face at the very end. Eddie squinted in the sudden brightness. Buck blew out a breath and dropped to his stomach; he'd have to army crawl in the tight space.
"I'm coming!"
Eddie nodded tightly. He was laying on his stomach, perpendicular to Buck. His forehead was bloody and he was missing his helmet.
As Buck came closer, his light caught on smudged handprints and scratches that hung in the air between himself and Eddie: there was a sideways sheet of plexiglas at the end of the passageway and Eddie lay on the other side. Buck pulled up to it and knocked lightly on the plastic.
"Hey." Eddie's voice was blunted by the barrier.
"How you doing?"
"I've been better." His face was pinched. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Buck brushed him off and peered past the plastic barrier. Eddie was trapped in a small section of the crumpled maze. The ceiling, just a couple feet high over Eddie's head, tapered towards the ground at an angle. His legs disappeared under it.
Buck's attention focused on a piece of metal lodged in Eddie's lower back. It was a few inches thick and at least a foot long. It was hard to tell how deep it plunged into Eddie's torso. Blood welled out from the wound, shining under the light of the headlamp.
Buck's chest tightened. He reached for his radio. "I got him, Cap. He's, uh, he's injured, impaled in the back and possibly pinned at the legs."
"Definitely pinned," Eddie added, groaning as he pulled at his left leg.
Buck swallowed.
Something behind him creaked aloud.
"BUCK!" Eddie shouted, his eye wide.
Buck twisted his head backwards to look at the sound and a crush of debris tumbled downwards, collapsing the back half of the psuedo-tunnel. Dust bloomed outwards. Buck dropped his head and laid flat on the ground.
"Buckley! Come in!" Bobby's voice pierced the haze.
Buck blinked against the dust. His vision was obscured. "Eddie?! Eddie?!"
"I'm okay! I'm okay!"
"Buckley! Diaz! Report!" Bobby shouted through the radio.
Buck coughed and depressed the button on the device. "I'm here, Cap. We're clear." He looked back over his shoulder. "Our exit route is cut off."
"Okay, don't move. Just stay there until we can get to you."
"Copy," Buck responded, as though he had any other choice.
"Buck," Hen called out through the radio, "how's Eddie doing? What can you give me?"
The dust had receded enough that Buck could see Eddie again. He turned towards him with his headlamp. Eddie blinked against the light.
"Uh, pupil reaction is slow." Buck rested a gloved hand against the plexiglas. "Can't get a read on BP and heart rate yet."
"Elevated," Eddie supplied.
Buck lifted his hand off the radio and looked at Eddie. He could feel his own heart beating in his chest. "I'm coming through. Protect your eyes."
Eddie turned so that he faced away from Buck and covered his head with his arms. Buck wound his fist back and punched the clear plastic. His hand bounced off with a soft thud.
"Shit!"
"Is he bleeding? What's it look like?" Hen continued her remote assessment of the situation.
"Yeah," Buck responded. "H- Hen, there's a lot blood."
Eddie turned his head to try and look down his body.
"You need to put pressure on the wound," Hen instructed. "You gotta try and stop the bleeding."
Buck didn't comment on her stating the obvious. "I'm working on it!" he responded.
He searched the other side of the plexiglas for any sign of the prybar and saw Eddie had been carrying.
"Where are the tools?" he asked.
Eddie took a moment to look around and then turned back towards Buck. "I lost 'em." The corners of his mouth pulled up, almost like he thought it was funny.
Buck reached back and yanked the medical bag forward. He propped himself up on one elbow as he rifled through it with the other hand, searching for something that he could use to break the thick acrylic. He found nothing useful and pulled his fist back again. Eddie turned away and covered his head.
Buck launched forward with the punch, shouting in the silent room, but the plexiglas bent, rather than breaking. From his awkward position, Buck didn't have enough leverage to break through. He scowled and shook out his hand, then started pushing on the edges of the plastic, trying to break it away from its sturdy wooden frame. He grunted with exertion as he shoved against the barrier with all of his strength.
"Dammit!"
Eddie turned back towards Buck and watched. "Hey, it's okay. You got this."
Buck nodded, but his chest felt tight. Blood had begun to pool under Eddie, slick and glossy under the light of the headlamp. Buck slammed a fist against the plastic in frustration. And then another, and another, and another, but the barrier continued to wobble, rather than break, under the onslaught. His heart pounded in his ears.
"Buck." Eddie breathed deep, his face tight with pain. "It's okay." His eyes drooped closed for a moment and he reopened them, refocusing on his partner.
Buck reached for the radio. "Cap, you- you guys need to hurry up! I can't get to him."
"We're on our way," Bobby reassured, "Just hold on."
Buck went back to shoving against the barrier. He leaned into it with his shoulder and head, pushing up and forward through his knees and elbows. His eyes welled with tears.
"FUCK!" he cursed out loud. The shout was swallowed by the rubble.
Buck wasn't sure how long he fought against the plexiglas, but he didn't stop. He'd switch his position periodically to try a new tactic: wedging his fingers under the wooden frame to pry it up, launching himself forward to slam the plastic with both hands at once, sliding the whole thing to the right and the left. The fixture wiggled with each new tactic, but there was no significant movement. He went back to pounding steadily against the barrier.
Eddie lifted a hand from along his side and rested it against the plastic. He looked at Buck with hazy eyes and Buck paused his barrage.
"Hey, man," Eddie said, his words slow, "it's okay."
"Wha? Eddie--"
"It's okay. This isn't your fault."
"I know, I know. I just--"
Eddie frowned. "Buck, listen, if I don't get out of here--" Buck shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. "--you can't blame yourself."
"Hey, hey. I'm getting you out. The team is coming." Buck reached for his radio.
Eddie continued, "you gotta take care of Christopher."
Buck dropped his hand, feeling the weight of thousands of unspoken words. He swallowed and nodded. "Of course, yeah. I'll always be there for Chris. You know that. But you gotta be there for him too, okay?"
"Thanks, man." Eddie's eyes fell shut and his hand fell away from the plastic, leaving a bloody print behind.
"EDDIE!" Buck resumed his frantic pounding. "EDDIE!"
He kept going, even as his fist began to hurt and his arm ached. Eddie did not move, but Buck could see that his partner's back was still rising and falling. He couldn't tell if the time between Eddie's inhalations and exhalations was lengthening or if his own pace was slowing. But he didn't stop. He continued the onslaught, hammering ceaselessly, as though he could beat back the claws of death with his own fists.
Gradually, a new sound grew in the periphery of Buck's awareness. It skittered under the drumming of his fists, growing louder and louder until he registered it all at once: somewhere nearby, debris was shifting.
"Cap!" Buck shouted into his radio. "I can hear you! You're on my delta."
"We're almost there, Buck. Keep banging. We're working towards you."
Buck started banging again, though he wasn't quite as frantic. He kept an eye on Eddie, who continued to breath evenly.
Eventually, a light pierced through the darkness on Eddie's other side. It came closer until Buck's own headlamp illuminated Bobby's face and then his upper torso. Buck smiled, letting his hand drop.
"Good to see you, Cap."
"You too, Kid."