Searching for Andromeda 14 Help Will Come

Ephraim listened intently to a sound. He was hearing nothing but the drip of water. It was peculiarly loud. It was almost truncated and was reverberating with a distinct echo. Like beads of water from a dripping faucet. He couldn't quite engage any of his senses to anything else—he cannot see anything but darkness, and he couldn't smell.

No.

It's not that he can't smell—

He couldn't breathe!

Ephraim immediately opened his eyes, and then he realized he was submerged in a pool of water. Everything was dark and blurry for a while, and it seemed like the water was pulling him in—no, he has to pull away—he might die!

He gasped as he drew away from the pool, coughing the liquid he had breathed and drank. He coughed incessantly as he weakly walked away from the pool with his blurry eyes. He knelt down once more, and with his trembling hands, he tried to feel the ground beneath the lagoon.

Ephraim stretched and extended an arm, trying to feel the ground underneath the water. The pool of water had reached his hip, and it was arctic-cold. After a minute of searching, he finally felt the familiar texture of his glasses against his palm. It was futile to wipe his glasses with his soaked clothes; nonetheless, Ephraim tried to.

As he tentatively wore his spectacles, the light passed through its lens and focused through his eyes. Ephraim, now with clearer sight, realized he was alone in a sequestered space. He turned around—everything was slowly beginning to illuminate.

There was nothing but a vast array of water surrounding the whole enchilada. The color of the water was turquoise-blue and was very clear. There were vines crawling around the corners, and some looming underneath with diminutive flowers etched in the lianas. Some of the flowers were floating atop the blue.

Ephraim continued to examine the entirety. It seems like the source of the dripping water he heard when he was at his subconscious was coming from aboveground, and along with the beads of droplets was a fall. A waterfall from above—Ephraim lifted his head to stare at the hole, the source of the falling water. It was interminable; endless—he couldn't see the other end of the fall.

And above all else, he couldn't quite remember what happened.

Ephraim's nerves in his head twitched, and he winced in return. He walked away from the water as he draped his hand over the part of his head which was stricken with pain.

He reached the ground shortly, and when he stood up, he sighed in relief when both of his legs appear to be working and uninjured. Ephraim's gear was still intact, and it seemed he wasn't missing any body parts (he was THAT paranoid) however, his head was still spinning. Even if his legs were unscathed, his head was resonating and whirling. This made his vision fuzzy.

Ephraim still can't remember how he got here.

He stared at his wrist, where the beeper was attached. It was waterproof, he believes. He tried clicking it.

Silence.

He tried clicking it several times once more, and then he realized it wasn't simply unresponsive.

It was broken.

"How is this broken . . ." Ephraim exclaims as he tries to remember how he got the beeper broken. How is he going to ask for help, or report to the HR at this rate?

"Damn it," he exclaims underneath his breath. Ephraim noticed only the rope from his equipment had survived the probable fall. Everything but his journal (which was safely kept on a pocket adjacent to his belt) and a rope he bought which was in his hip, was to be found. He readjusted his glasses and proceeded to stroll forward.

How is he here?

"Ack!" He clutched his head, and then as he withdrew his hand, a sinister crimson liquid had soaked his gloved fingers. He just realized the twitching on his head was pain—pain from an injury. He cursed silently, and ripped a piece of his cloth and then pressed it tentatively to the aching part of his head; the upper right portion just above his forehead.

Ephraim continued to walk forward, unsure why he's doing so, uncertain even how he got here. But he didn't want to think about how. His head was already gyrating and throbbing from sparking even a question. Despite these aforementioned circumstances, he still couldn't afford to dwindle. At the very least, he had to have a clue what the hell had happened.

Ephraim examined the entirety: there was a lagoon with a glimmering turquoise-cyan gleam with vines and flowers climbing and scattered across both in the depths of the water and through the ground. In the walls were also vines with blossoming odd-looking flowers; the place itself, also, was surrounded with peculiar-looking glowing plants that sheltered a warm light inside serving as the illumination in the whole room.

Was it even a room?

"Ah!"

Ephraim stopped short, realizing he had hit his head from walking forward. He placed a hand around his nose, which got red from bumping against a certain object—

He frowned. What did he bump into?

Ephraim walked forward, and then he again bumped into it.

Glass.

He pushed his hand forward, feeling the cold, flat surface against his palms. He blinked, and when he sees his reflection finally on the glass.

u003cu003cUNAUTHORIZED ACCESSu003eu003e

Ephraim's eyes drifted to the red text that appeared to the pane. He took a step back and then eyed the whole spectacle presented before him. The glass had extended endlessly in both ways—right and left. After the glass was—

Ephraim blinked.

"Wh-what in the world . . ." Ephraim took several steps back, as he fixes his gaze to the space before him. The place which the glass separated from the lagoon and the falls.

A laboratory.

**

Beep . . . beep . . . beep.

"It's really broken, dammit," Samuel exclaims, as he stares at the beeper. "I can't reverse engineer something broken. Its circuits are done for good."

Esmeralda trembles as she stares at hers. "I—we have t-to fix this—b-but I think help'll come—it'll come for sure—"

Samuel did not respond.

"Right, Sam?"

"They will," he says. "If we come out alive, that is."

Both Samuel and Esmeralda were trapped in a sequestered space. There was no way out—everything was blocked by concrete. The only light they have is Samuel's flashlight. It had been

"M-my phone, it-it's not here," says Esmeralda. "Is yours with y-you? Maybe we could call them—"

"I don't have a phone." Samuel answers. "I store info in my head, remember?"

"B-but, of course! For calls! Messages!" Esmeralda exclaims.

"Zilch," Samuel answers as he tries to tweaks the beeper's circuits. "Dammit, it's really broken."

"The HR will know that there's an earthquake that took place. Help'll come in no time," Samuel says. "However—we're trapped here. It's a matter of time before . . ."

Esmeralda bit her lips as she awaited the other end of Samuel's sentence.

"Before we die here out of oxygen loss,"

Esmeralda blinked. "H-huh—oxygen loss?!"

"Kidding," Samuel grinned. "It would take roughly 116.5 hours before we suffocate to death. That's for about four days. And of course, it's not going to be our cause of death."

"What will?"

"That is—"

Samuel's eyes widened when the ground shook again. He immediately seized Esmeralda by the wrist and then sheltered her around him. He placed his other arm to his head, and the other shielding Esmeralda. The upheaval was now less intense compared to the first one which made the entire building collapse.

"an aftershock?" Esmeralda says when the tremor stopped.

"I think it'll be followed shortly afterwards," Samuel says. "We need rescue, or else we're seriously going to die here. We're in a tight spot. We're friggin' surrounded by these blocks."

Esmeralda bit her lip and remained unresponsive.

"O-oh," Samuel blinks, and then he held both of Esmeralda's shoulders and pushes her away gently. "Sorry 'bout that."

Silence.

". . . Sam?"

"What is it?"

"Why did you . . . come to save me?" She asks. "You could've been with Doctor Wagner if you didn't—"

"Are you stupid?!" Samuel exclaims, flicking Esmeralda's forehead. "Why are you asking someone why he saved you? It's obvious for Pete's sake,"

"I . . . don't understand,"

"Seriously?" Samuel scowls. "Alright. I saved you because I care. Lookie here, there isn't really any big picture here. I saved you because I wanted to. I don't get what could other reasons be."

"B-but we don't know each other—" Esmeralda stutters, as she stifles yet another sob. "I'm just a colleague—"

"Hag, is your concept of morality so thin, or are you just thinking I'm plain evil?" Says Samuel. "You're a friend."

"F-friend?"

"Barf," Samuel says, grimacing as he sticks his tongue out. "I won't repeat that again, Uncharismatic girl,"—he flicks her forehead and then grins.

Esmeralda stares at Samuel with her green eyes, blinking and astonished for a second, until she decided to evoke a smile.

"You're weird, Sam,"

"Oh, am I?" Samuel arched his brow. He stares at her and then grins.

"W-what?" Esmeralda exclaims, blushing as Samuel proceeded to stare and grin at her. "Is there something in my face?"

Samuel smiles. "Nah,"

"Th-then what?"

"It's just that," Samuel says. "You look stupider when you smile."

"Wha—brat!" Esmeralda exclaims and slaps Samuel's arm.

"Ah—aw, aw!" Samuel winced in pain as he held his bandaged arm. "Don't hurt me physically! What the hell—"

"I'm sorry! Sorry!" Esmeralda says as she apologizes frantically. "I—I forgot you have an injured arm—"

Samuel chuckles through the pain.

"Dammit," he says, and laughs heartily. "Ahaha!"

"Wh-what?"

"This is ridiculous," he says. "We're chitchatting to our death."

"We're not dying," Esmeralda says firmly, and then she stood up, and walked towards the fallen concrete. "We won't die. . . but we have to do something before we get caught in another aftershock. Another one with a higher magnitude would surely kill us."

Beep . . . beep . . . beep.

"That's right!" Esmeralda exclaims.

"What's right?" Samuel asks. "Have you lost it, Hag?"

"No, Shorty! Listen!" Esmeralda paused for a while, as she listened to the faint sound of the beeper. "That!"

"The beeper?" Samuel asks.

"Yes!" Esmeralda says, and then she leaned to the concrete and pushes the debris with all her strength.

"We have to get it!" She says. "And then with that beeper, we'll be able to send Ephraim our location, and contact the HR!"

"Oh!" Samuel nods. "Right!"

"Now, can you help me here?" Esmeralda says. "If they can't help us, we have to help them!"

Samuel then instantaneously hoisted, standing alongside Esmeralda. He propelled his uninjured arm forward to the concrete, and then together they pushed the fallen blocks.

"Yes," Samuel says. "I'm with you, Hag,"

Chapter end