Jalen’s hand closed around Eli’s wrist when the next stone moved.
“Stop.”
Kellan froze with the pry bar beneath the edge of the block. “What changed?”
“Pressure on my leg.”
“More or less?”
“More. Above the knee.”
Eli watched the brace. Its top plate remained against the beam, but a thin line of dust trickled from the joint. He described it to Kellan, who eased the pry bar back until Jalen’s grip loosened.
“Better?”
“A little.”
Kellan set the bar down. “The block is bearing on another piece underneath. If we lift this side first, it rolls toward him.”
“Can we lift from the other side?” Eli asked.
“Not until we can reach it.”
The water had crept around Jalen’s boot. Tessa, still on the radio, asked whether it was touching his skin. He said his sock was wet but the water had not reached his knee. She told Eli to keep reporting changes and asked Jalen to move his toes if he could.
“I can feel them,” he said. “Can’t see them.”
“That tells us something. Keep your breathing as steady as you can.”
Eli used Weak-Point Sight on the pile. The bright line through the block remained, but a smaller fracture ran along a stone at the far edge. He pointed it out without reaching for the hammer.
“If we remove that piece, can we reach the other side?”
Kellan examined the contact points. “Possibly. It may be holding the block from sliding. We need a wedge ready before it comes out.”
Dane passed another wedge through the doorway. He stayed outside the damaged section, watching the line as they had agreed. Eli slid the wedge into a gap under Kellan’s direction, pressing it by hand until it held. Kellan eased the smaller stone sideways. It resisted, then shifted with a scrape.
Jalen flinched. “My leg.”
“More pressure?” Eli asked.
“No. Just felt it move.”
They waited. The brace did not shift. Kellan removed the stone and set it behind him, clear of the exit. Through the new opening they could see the main block resting on a broken shelf bracket. The bracket had folded under the weight, trapping Jalen’s leg against the floor.
“We don’t need to lift the whole pile,” Kellan said. “We need to raise that corner enough to free the bracket.”
He positioned the pry bar beneath a sound edge. Eli held the wedge ready. Kellan pressed down slowly; the block rose a fraction. Eli inserted the wedge, then Kellan released the bar.
“Pressure?” Eli asked.
“Less.”
“Can you move your leg?”
“Not yet.”
The wedge began to tilt as Kellan released the bar. Eli caught himself before touching it.
“It’s leaning,” he said.
“I see it. Don’t put your hand there.” Kellan eased the bar back under the stone and took the weight again. “Pull the wedge out by the cord.”
Eli had tied the cord to its narrow end before placing it. He drew it free from the side, then passed Kellan a broader wedge. Kellan settled the block while Eli watched the brace. This time the wedge sat flat.
From the doorway, Dane called that the water mark had changed. Eli looked back. The dark line had reached the chalk Kellan had made earlier. It was rising slowly, but it was rising. He relayed the observation to Tessa.
“Tell me if it reaches his knee,” she said. “And keep his face away from the dust if you can do it without moving the load.”
Eli dampened a clean cloth with a little water and passed it through the gap. Jalen held it over his mouth. His next cough sounded less harsh, though he still paused between sentences.
“What’s on the other side of the valve?” Eli asked, keeping his voice steady.
“Pump intake. I was checking the joint.”
“Did you see the pipe move?”
“It knocked when they ran it. I shut it down and wrote the cracks in the ledger.”
Kellan glanced toward the station door. “Did you have time to tell someone?”
“Dane was at the checkpoint. I gave Rell the book.”
Dane’s voice came from outside. “I saw you hand him something. I didn’t know what was in it.”
“That’s enough for now,” Eli said. The worker needed to breathe, and the men at the doorway needed to keep their attention on the load. There would be time to ask about the book if they got him out.
They repeated the lift. The block rose another small amount. The folded bracket remained caught beneath it. Eli could reach the metal with his fingers, but pulling it might bring the block down if the wedge slipped.
Kellan checked the support and added a second wedge. He kept his injured wrist aligned with the bar and asked Eli to take the next lift if the brace pressed against it. Eli agreed, then checked that the escape path behind them was still clear and that Dane could see the signal line from his position. Kellan nodded toward the gap. “Now try the bracket. Don’t put your hand under the block.”
Eli hooked the end of the metal with a length of cord and pulled from the side. It moved an inch, then stopped. He changed the angle and pulled again. The bracket slid free with a sharp clang.
Jalen cried out. Eli dropped the cord and reached for him.
“Where does it hurt?” Tessa asked through the radio.
“Leg. Hip. Everywhere.”
“Can you breathe?”
“Yes.”
Kellan looked at the opening. “The weight is off his leg. We need to check what’s holding his hip before we move him.”
Eli wanted to pull Jalen out while the gap was open. He could see the man’s face now, gray with dust, eyes fixed on the narrow space ahead. The water touched his ankle. Every instinct told Eli that the next movement should be toward the door.
Kellan placed a hand against the brace. “Look here.”
A small piece of masonry rested against Jalen’s hip, separate from the main block. Eli used his sight briefly. The piece was cracked but not carrying the ceiling load. They could move it by hand if they kept the larger block supported.
Together they removed it. Jalen breathed more easily, though his voice remained weak. Tessa asked whether he could feel his legs and whether moving his foot changed the pain. He answered each question. She told them to support him as a unit and avoid twisting the injured side.
They had no stretcher inside. Kellan unfolded a rescue sheet from the second pack and showed Eli how to slide it beneath Jalen without dragging him across the broken floor. The first attempt caught on a stone. They stopped, cleared the obstruction, and tried again.
“I’m sorry,” Jalen said.
“Save that for whoever left the shelf on you,” Kellan replied.
Jalen gave a weak smile. “I told them the wall was cracked.”
“We heard you.”
He looked toward the doorway. “Did Rell hear?”
“He’s outside.”
The smile disappeared. “He’ll say I went in without permission.”
Eli thought of the ledger Jalen had mentioned. He could ask for details now, while the statement was fresh. Tessa’s voice came through the radio before he spoke.
“Keep him talking, but don’t make him give an account while you’re moving him. Tell me when he’s clear of the load.”
“Understood.”
Kellan counted them through the roll onto the sheet. Jalen cried out once, then gripped the fabric with his free hand. Eli checked that the injured leg was supported. The main block remained on the wedges; the ceiling brace held.
“Clear,” he told Tessa.
“Move toward the entrance. If his breathing worsens or the structure shifts, call me.”
Kellan took the front handles. Eli took the rear. They lifted only high enough to clear the floor and moved in short steps. The sheet brushed the wall at the bend, and they lowered it while Kellan adjusted his grip around the wrist brace.
“Can you hold it?” Eli asked.
“Yes. The load is on my forearm, not the injured hand. Change with me at the door.”
Dane appeared beyond the first support, ready to receive the front handles. Rell stood behind him. When Kellan reached the doorway, the leader stepped forward and looked down at Jalen.
“You should have waited for the inspection,” Rell said.
Kellan did not release the sheet. “Take this handle.”
“I need to check the station.”
“Your worker needs carrying. Take the handle.”
For a moment Eli thought Rell would refuse. Dane reached for it instead, but Kellan kept his eyes on the leader. Rell took the handle with one hand, then the other. Kellan showed him where to stand so the sheet would remain level.
“On three,” Kellan said.
They moved Jalen through the checkpoint. Nia met them at the entrance with the site officer, who had arrived with a second worker and a wheeled stretcher. The responders were still on their way. Tessa stayed on the line while the officer checked Jalen’s breathing and transferred him to the stretcher.
Jalen caught Dane’s sleeve. “The ledger,” he said.
Dane glanced at Rell. “What about it?”
“My note. Before I went in.”
“Don’t worry about that now,” Rell said.
Jalen released Dane’s sleeve. He did not repeat the request while the leader stood there.
The officer asked for the time Jalen had been found, the condition of the route, and the supports left inside. Kellan gave a concise account. Eli added the times of the calls and the change in water level. Rell said the worker had entered the lower passage to inspect the valve and had been trapped by an unexpected collapse.
“I warned you,” Jalen said.
Rell looked at the officer. “He mentioned a crack. We hadn’t determined whether it was structural.”
The officer wrote both statements. She did not decide between them at the gate.
A responder team arrived with a vehicle. They assessed Jalen and prepared to move him. He refused to leave until someone retrieved the valve key Eli had set beside the wall. Eli brought it out and offered it to him.
“Keep it,” Jalen said. “If the pump runs, the blue valve opens slowly. If you open it all at once, the pipe hammers.”
Kellan looked at the key. “You need treatment first.”
“I can tell you how it works.”
“You can tell us after they’ve checked you. No one is going to make you operate it from a stretcher.”
Jalen let the responder take him to the vehicle. Dane followed, carrying his coat and phone. Rell watched them go, then held out his hand for the key.
Eli kept it. “Jalen asked me to keep it for now.”
“The station belongs to the contract.”
“And we have written access after the rescue,” Kellan said. “We’ll inspect it with someone who knows the controls. If the responders say Jalen can’t return, we find another operator.”
Rell’s face darkened. He looked at the signed page in Eli’s hand and said nothing.
The site officer checked the supports they had left in the passage. She marked the area closed until a structural team could inspect it, but allowed access to the control room by the separate upper route if Rell and the operator agreed. Kellan asked for the route to be checked before anyone entered.
Eli sat on a crate while he wrote the rescue times. Dane brought him the end of the signal line, now coiled and wet. They checked it for damage before returning it to Nia; a frayed section went into the repair pile instead of being handed to the next team as ready equipment. His hands shook now that he no longer had a task inside the passage. He had nearly struck the bright fracture because it offered the fastest answer. Kellan’s brace had given Jalen the time to survive the slower one.
Tessa came over the radio one final time. “Is he with the responders?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can stop holding your breath.”
He exhaled. Kellan sat beside him and loosened the strap on his wrist brace. Neither spoke for a minute. Beyond the gate, the vehicle doors closed around Jalen. The pump still waited, the water still rose, and the agreement in Eli’s pocket was only useful if the station could be operated safely.