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‘You’ll have to unbuckle her seatbelt before you can get her out of there,’ said Bohwanox.

Colt made his way over to the driver’s side door, careful with each step as he maintained his grip on the vehicle. Whenever he felt a floor board give too much under his foot, he retreated and tried to step farther.

He reached the door. With one hand placed firmly above the front tire, he pressed the other hand to the side window and began breaking it. He pulled the glass out instead of letting it fall against her.

She was a stout woman, not likely to fit through the unobstructed half of the window. Colt checked her pulse. She was alive, at least.

His arm could just barely reach the belt buckle. It clicked free, and he slowly removed the belt from around her body.

“Now what?” he said. “The wall’s still blocking the door.”

‘You’re going to have to break the wall in order to open it, and then get her out as fast as you can.’

“That could bring down the roof,” said Colt, “which could make the floor go, as well.”

‘That’s why you’ll have to be quick.’

He deliberated for a few moments but saw no better options. He took a deep breath and prepared himself, tensing up, feeling the strength course though his body.

He hit the wall. It crumbled. The ceiling began to give way, and he ripped the car door clean off. He could feel the floor shaking as he wrapped his arms around the old woman and pulled her out. He leapt away as the roof caved in, wood and plaster clattering against the car’s hood.

They’d made it to the staircase. The car was going through the floor now, kicking up a storm of rubble. Colt hoisted the woman under one arm and caught a busted plank with the other, immediately crushing it in his hand. From everything else, he just shielded her with his body.