On second thoughts, perhaps persuading Loren to pull him out hadn't been such a good idea. Zac was all too aware that if an aftershock ripped through the room, she was in a pretty vulnerable position. It would be all too easy for her to lose her balance and hit her head. And an aftershock would demolish the room, burying them both.
And ignoring all that, the pain was immense. It paralyzed his lower leg and arced up along his thigh. His foot was caught on something, and there wasn't enough room for him to jerk it free himself. He had never felt anything like the pain he was feeling now. It was like being beaten up, but all the pain being concentrated into his left calf.
Something under the pile of rubble that had once been his desk moved slightly and his body surged forward. There was one blissful moment when he thought he was free- until something jerked his painful foot back and he involuntarily cried out. As he cried out, a complete and immense fear overtook him.
He was going to lose her. Something was going to happen, and he was going to be left alone in the hell that was his own mind. The words were on his lips. Go, Loren. Run, get out of here. I'll be fine. He was about to say them, but something moved once again against his leg, jerking the broken bone and causing him to cry out once again.
But if he told her to run, if he died, he'd die all alone. Was his desire to die with her near a selfish one? Was it wrong of him to want to die with her hand in his, able to see her face? Was it because he didn't want to watch her die or force her to watch him die? Was his fear even one of dying? Or was it one of being forgotten, of fading away until he was nothing but dust?
A surge ran through him, one that was like a brief rush of adrenaline. And at that moment, his foot came free and Loren dragged him out from underneath the rubble with one brief surge of pain. For a moment, he just lay on the ground, shaking and gasping for breath. He hadn't realized he had been struggling to breathe until he was free. But now, every breath was sweet. He had survived. And no matter what shit life intended to throw at him, he was going to make it through it.
He managed to pull himself into a sitting position with minimal moving of his leg. His foot was turned at a slight angle and his calf was swollen. He had broken at least one bone in his calf, if not both. But he was alive. Loren was alive. He was as lucky as hell.
He looked up at Loren, a relieved smile on his face. "It's okay. We can make it out. We will make it out." He said, still breathing a little hard. "Just help me stand. We're going to get out. And bring my freaking guitars."