Chapter 7

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As soon as they hit the ground and Val landed on him Thomas felt all the air pushed out of him. Desperately he tried to grasp air back in but his lungs were still in shock from the impact and refused to cooperate. Panic seized him. He began pushing Val off of him, aware his weight pressed down on him was not helping. Val obliged by rolling off with a whimper. Just when Thomas thought he would never taste sweet air again his lungs recovered and they once again began the rhythmic push and pull that sustains life. Unfortunately, in his need for air he had failed to take notice of the thick dust that was still falling around him. The ecstasy of life giving air was quickly followed by a reflexive bout of coughing as his confused lungs tried to expel the alien particles inhabiting them. Covering his mouth with his kerchief, which he grabbed from around his neck, he made an effort to slow his breathing and beating heart. It was then that he became aware of the ringing in his ears. He worked his jaw in a failed attempt to alleviate the discomfort. Putting that aside, he made an effort to sit up slowly and try to get a picture of the ruin around him. He thought at first that the whole ceiling had caved in on them but looking to his left he could see Sankerson, his whole body covered in dust except for the top of his forehead and hair where he had been wearing his hat, bent over with his hands on his knees. He too had removed his kerchief and was coughing while he held it to his mouth. The chamber around him seemed to be intact. Thomas cast a concerned glance at the spot where they had found the artefacts and scrolls and while his eyes couldn't completely penetrate the murky darkness it seemed that the destruction had just been limited to the stairway

The last thing Thomas remembered was trying to reach Val and that terrifying scream and then Val throwing himself forward sending them both down off the steps. He looked towards the stairs and while the dust was still settling he could see what he had been afraid that he would see - that the way up was blocked with fallen stonework. Smaller rocks and pebbles were still falling. To his right he could see Val sitting up with his back to him. His posture swayed as if it were not sure whether it should lie back down again or not. Working moisture into his mouth Thomas spoke in a very hoarse and loud voice that surprised even himself. "You alright Val?" Thomas could see that Val's head popped up as if startled to hear his name called and searching around for the source of the call. Then casting a quick glance over his shoulder to confirm the questioner, his head once more returned to a downward position. "I think so." he finally answered which Thomas heard still with some distortion and then asked "You?"

"I think so...no thanks to you. '' He didn't know what had made Val react so drastically and he was ...pretty sure that Val couldn't have orchestrated the fall for Thomas to be the one to hit the ground first. Whether Val hadn't heard or chose to ignore it, he didn't give any indication of taking offence. Pushing his hand down by his side to hold his weight he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet and Val did likewise.

"What happened?" asked Sankerson suddenly, which from the jump that Val gave might have indicated he had forgotten there was someone else down here with them. Sankerson had picked up the lamp, which was thankfully still intact, and came closer to Thomas trying to illuminate the now well blocked exit. "Where is Matthews?" he added with obvious concern and dread in his voice. He too must have heard that terrible scream the monster had left out before all this had happened. Thomas turned to look at Val who was now facing them and wiping dirt off his face with the sleeve of his coat which Thomas noted was a pointless action considering the amount of dust already covering his jacket. Val bent searching for something in the rubble for a second or two before straightening with his hat in his hand and proceeded to give it a few slaps to knock the dust off it before setting it as best he could on his head. There was something comical about that portrait with Val standing among all the dust and debris and his rather dented hat sitting at a precarious angle on his head. Val looked at them levelly "He's dead." was the simple but preposterous answer.

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