Down there, in the darkness and the cloud of dust, Alya crouched. Her left arm braced a concrete beam that somehow kept the remaining debris from crushing them.
"Cough! Cough!"
Alya coughed violently as fine dust billowed from the cracks above. The ground began to vibrate faintly.
"It seems the rescue team has started," Alya said, trying to calm the woman trapped with her. Her face was pale, but her eyes radiated determination. "Hold on a little longer, Ma'am."
"Doctor," the woman's voice sounded worried, "your hand is bleeding."
Alya glanced at her palm, which was torn and smeared with grime from bracing the beam. "Ah, it is nothing. It is just a small wound." She had to stay focused.
Suddenly, a long-awaited voice pierced through the rubble, sounding faint but clear. "Alya! Can you hear me?"
Alya's eyes widened. That was Satria's voice.
"Satria! I hear you!" Alya replied, her voice choked by relief and dust.
