Ronnie groaned. Was that Jim? He sounded far away. "Ronnie! Where are you?"
Thoughts slipped through Ronnie’s mind, slippery and hard to catch, like fish. Something was wrong, she was sure of that. She tried to rub her forehead.
Pain exploded through her body. Her arm was wedged beneath her and twisted at a strange angle. Jim’s voice was muffled by her back.
"I’m in a ventilation shaft." Ronnie said, remembering. It was her birthday. She stared to cry. "Jim?"
"Ronnie," Jim’s voice sounded rough, like he’d been shouting or crying, or both. "You’re awake."
"I think my arm’s broken," Ronnie said. The ventilation shaft was dark, and the walls were too close together. She couldn’t get enough air.
Ronnie could hear her father swearing in the background.
"Which ventilation shaft are you in?"
"I was… going to the observation post." Ronnie was gasping for breath. Everything hurt, and the walls just kept getting closer.
"Calm down, Ronnie. You’re going to be okay. I’ll find you."
Jim’s voice was starting to sound far away again. Ronnie’s eyes slipped closed, and his words slipped away.