“I’m gonna kill Shillings when I get my hands on him,” the kicker wheezed as he lumbered behind the boys.

As George neared the tamped portion of the gallery, he came upon an overturned lantern and Max whining and pawing at broken beams on the floor. Beneath them, George spotted a stockinged foot.

“Tommy!” He lifted the beams off his friend’s motionless body.

Thomas didn’t answer. Blood from a gash on his forehead ran down his face and stained his blond hair a dark red.

“Tommy,” George whispered, wiping Thomas’s face with his sleeve, “please wake up.”

A pained groan grumbled in Thomas’s throat as he struggled to open his eyes. “Ouch.”

Max placed his front paws on Thomas’s chest and licked his chin and cheeks.

“It’s all right, boy,” Thomas said, patting the dog’s head. “I’m all right.”

The remaining beams above them creaked, and clots of clay broke free under another barrage of shelling.

“You will be as soon as we get you out of here.” George took Thomas’s hand and started to help him up, but Thomas cried out.

“What’s wrong?” George asked, lowering him back to the ground.

“My leg. I think it’s broken.”

“Then I’ll have to carry you.” George looked around Thomas. “Where’s your gas mask?”

“I couldn’t see with it on to find my necklace. I threw it to the ground just before the beams fell.”

George searched under the broken beams and pulled Thomas’s mask from the rubble. The material was torn, and the lens shattered. “It’ll have to do.” He pulled the mask over Thomas’s head.

Thomas winced when the coarse material dragged across his cut.

“Sorry,” George said, adjusting the mask, so Thomas could see through the cracked lens.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I just wanted to find my necklace. I didn’t mean to get us in this mess.”

“Did you find it?” George asked.

Thomas pulled the broken chain and saints medals from his pocket.

“Good.”

The earth around them shook as another explosion echoed on no-man’s-land. George covered his and Thomas’s heads as more chunks of clay fell from the ceiling.

“I’m really sorry, George.”

“Let’s save the apologies for when we’re aboveground.” Trying not to jostle Thomas’s injured leg, George started to pick him up when he spotted Frederick, Charlie, and Mole running toward them.

“Don’t come any closer!” he hissed. “This section’s not stable!”

Mole and the boys stopped and watched George carefully lift Thomas into his arms. He took a step forward, but Max paced circles around his feet and pawed at his legs, trying to get to Thomas. Afraid he was going to trip over the dog, George ordered the terrier to go to Mole. Ears and tail low, Max reluctantly obeyed. As soon as the dog was within reach, Frederick scooped him into his arms before he could scoot back to George and Thomas.

Another distant explosion rumbled, shaking more clots from the exposed clay ceiling. No one moved until the ground around them settled again.