The sound of concrete grinding on itself.
It was an unimaginably physical sound. It wasn't a ghostly whisper or a distant moan. It was the sound of hundreds of tons of rock being crushed, of rebar being bent beyond its breaking point. It filled the air, crushing all thought.
"Run now!" An roared, no longer a calm command, but a primal scream.
He didn't care where they ran. He only knew that if they stood still, they would be crushed in less than a minute.
He grabbed Khue's arm, practically lifting her from behind the counter. The smoky-haired guy needed no prompting. He had already bolted instinctively, toward the opposite side of the hall—the hallway on the left, the only one not distorting.
"Thanh! Go!" An shouted at the businessman.
But Thanh was frozen. He just stood there, eyes glued to the closing hallway, trembling uncontrollably. "It's here... it's here... no... no..."
The friction of concrete now sounded like a growl. Plaster dust rained down. Massive cracks began to spiderweb across the floor.
There was no more time. The fear of failing again, of witnessing another person fall because of his hesitation, overrode An's reason. He didn't pull Thanh. He lunged, putting all his weight into it, and rammed his shoulder straight into Thanh's chest, knocking him stumbling toward the left corridor.
"Run, you idiot!" the smoky-haired guy screamed from ahead, waving his arms wildly.
An's shove was strong enough to break Thanh's paralysis. He fell forward, then scrambled up, screaming senselessly, and began to run.
An pushed Khue ahead of him. "Don't look back!"
He was the last one out. He could feel the air pressure change behind him, as if a giant hydraulic press was closing.
They plunged into the left hallway. This place was also dark and rotten, but at least, it held its shape. The smoky-haired guy was the fastest, disappearing around a bend. Thanh, in his blind panic, ran right after him.
"An! Wait!" Khue stumbled.
A large piece of plaster fell from the ceiling, right where she had just fallen.
An yanked her up. "Get up! Get up!"
They ran. The crushing sound behind them reached a crescendo.
RUMMMBLE!
One final sound, shaking the entire building, as if two mountains had just collided.
Then, silence.
A heavy silence, filled only with the ragged breathing of four people and the soft crunch of settling plaster dust.
They had stopped at a fork. An braced his hands against the wall, trying to breathe. His lungs burned. The hallway behind them—the entrance to the main hall—was gone. It wasn't blocked. It simply wasn't there anymore. The concrete wall in front of them was now a solid mass, as if it had always been there.
They were trapped.
"Dammit... Dammit..." The smoky-haired guy sat hard on the floor, his head sinking between his knees. He was panting, but An could see his whole body shaking.
Thanh was worse. He slid down the wall, curled up, and began to cry. Not sobs, but the dry, desperate moans of a man completely broken.
Khue leaned against the wall, trying to control her breathing. She looked at An, the only one still standing. "What... what was that, An?"
An shook his head. He looked at the solid wall. "I don't know. But it has us locked in."
He closed his eyes. The grinding of concrete. The screech of bending metal.
It had triggered something. Something he had tried to bury for six years.
Six years ago. The Governor's Palace restoration site, Da Lat.
The noise. That's what An remembered most. A restoration site was never quiet. The sound of grinders, hammers, men shouting. An, 26 at the time, was on the third floor, checking the column reinforcement blueprints. The sun was harsh, and the smell of freshly mixed concrete was thick.
"An! Coffee!"
An looked up. Minh, the intern, was grinning, holding out an iced coffee. Minh was 21, thin, always full of energy.
"Watch your step," An said, but he couldn't hide the smile in his voice. "That scaffolding is weak."
"I know!" Minh replied, and started chattering about his weekend plans.
An smiled, turning back to the blueprint. He was checking a joint. Something was wrong. A hairline crack on a load-bearing column that shouldn't have been there. He frowned.
Then he heard it.
Not the din of the construction site. But a new sound. A small, sharp c...rack, like a bone breaking.
An's head snapped up. He didn't think. He acted.
"Minh! GET DOWN!"
He lunged for Minh.
But it was too late.
Time seemed to slow down. An saw Minh's confused eyes. He saw the crack on the column spiderweb outwards like a snake.
And then, he heard the roar of concrete.
It wasn't a simple collapse. It was a systemic failure. The steel scaffolding buckled. The fourth-floor concrete slab they were reinforcing lost its support. It shattered.
An only had time to shove Minh forward.
CRASH!
The screech of tearing metal. The growl of tons of falling concrete. An was thrown backward, slamming hard against an intact wall.
Everything was dust. White. Suffocating. He coughed, the taste of blood and cement filling his mouth.
"Minh!" he shouted. "Minh! Where are you?"
Silence.
Only the soft hiss of a bent steel bar.
"Minh!"
An scrambled up, his right leg screaming in pain. He staggered through the dust. He looked at where Minh had been standing. Now it was just a heap of broken concrete and scaffolding twisted like pasta.
And then he saw a hand. Pinned under a large concrete slab.
"No... no..." An rushed over, trying to use his bare hands to lever the slab. It wouldn't budge. "HELP! ANYONE! HELP!"
He heard a weak moan from underneath. "An..."
"Minh! I'm here! Hang on!" An roared, tears streaming down his face. He looked around, desperate for a crowbar, anything.
"My legs..." Minh whispered. "I... I can't feel... my legs..."
That voice. The surrender in it. It had haunted An for six years.
An had saved Minh. The rescue team arrived in time. But the surgeon's words were crueler than the concrete: "The spinal cord was too severely damaged. He will never walk again."
An opened his eyes.
The present.
The hospital corridor. The smell of formalin and mold.
Thanh's desperate moans. Khue's ragged breathing. Son's curses.
An took a deep breath, pushing the memory down. He couldn't let it happen again. He wouldn't let anyone be left behind.
"Get up," An said, his voice now perfectly calm. Ice-cold.
Son looked up. "Go where? Didn't you see? It blocked the way!"
"Then we find another way." An pointed into the darkness ahead of them. "We can't stay here. This place isn't safe."
Khue nodded, forcing herself to stand straight. "An is right. We have to move."
An looked at Thanh, who was still curled up. "Thanh. Get up. We won't leave you, but you have to walk on your own."
Thanh looked up, his face a mess of tears and snot. "I... I can't..."
"Listen to me." An walked over, crouching in front of Thanh. He looked him straight in the eyes. "That thing wants us to be scared. It wants us paralyzed. Don't give it what it wants. Get up."
There was something in An's voice, a cold certainty, that made Thanh stop crying. He nodded frantically, using the wall to haul himself to his feet.
"What's your name?" An turned to the smoky-haired guy.
The guy was surprised by the question. He wiped his nose. "Son."
"Alright, Son." An nodded. "I'm An. She's Khue. He's Thanh. Now we know each other. Let's go."
An took the lead, Khue right behind him, then Thanh, with Son taking the rear, constantly glancing back at the solid wall behind them.