"How close?"

"Three feet…"

"Then we're almost there. Hold on."

How could she hold on when there was nothing to hold on to? Just darkness and the destruction around her. "Could you hurry? I'm… afraid."

"There's nothing to be afraid of."

A sudden flare of anger pierced her panic. "Not for you. You don't have a hotel sitting on top of you."

There was a moment of surprised silence and then Gabe chuckled. "Touche. It was a stupid remark. I must be getting tired. Of course, you're afraid. Try to get your mind off it. You're American?"

The passport said Spanish. "No."

"You sound American."

"Spanish. English mother."

"I'm American. Texas. I was born and raised in Piano. Do you know where that is?"

"No."

"It's a little town right outside of Dallas, almost like a suburb. Well, it used to be a small town. Now it's growing like a mushroom after a rainstorm. You're not talking."

"I'm listening. I can't do both."

A sudden rush of air touched her face as one of die blocks was shifted to the side and she saw the conelike beam of a flashlight through the narrow opening. Hope flared and she tried to wriggle forward. "You're here. I can see the light."

"I told you."

Then the sound of movement ceased and she heard low voices.

Something was wrong, she thought desperately. Nothing was happening.

"Anita," Gabe called. "We've reached some heavy metal beams barring the entrance. We have to go and get more help."

"You're going to leave me?" She couldn't keep the panic out of her voice.

"Only for a little while. I'll be right back."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "It's all right. I'll be fine."

Another discussion and then Gabe said quietly, "It's okay. I'll stay." He thrust his hand through the opening. "Here, take my hand."

She reached out and his hand closed over hers in the darkness.