“Brace is seated,” Kellan said over the radio. “Eli, hold the beam only when Tessa is ready to move the rail.”
Tessa knelt beside Malik, the shelter guard. Deren held a lamp through the narrow opening while Faye waited behind him. The fallen shelf had pinned the maintenance door partly shut; a metal rail lay across Malik’s leg, with plaster and a damaged beam above it.
“Malik, can you move your hands to your chest?” Tessa asked.
He did, slowly. His breathing was shallow but steady. Tessa checked the bandage once more and explained how they would lift the rail, place him on the rescue sheet and carry him through the service-room passage.
“If the pain changes suddenly, tell me,” she said. “Don’t try to stand.”
“What about Faye?”
“She’ll come through as soon as the opening is clear.”
Faye leaned close enough for her voice to reach them. “I’m here, Malik. Stop worrying about me for one minute.”
