Page 126 of Last Girls Alive

McGaven stood in the middle of the property. Diesel hung in the air. There was an eerie quiet. “Katie!” he yelled. “Katie!”

Sheriff Scott, driving a department SUV, sped up to the property and stopped. He was out of the vehicle in seconds, running toward McGaven.

“What happened?”

At that exact moment, the entire mansion collapsed. Creaking, groaning, and crunching grew in sound as the structure slipped into its own grave. First from the middle inward, then the second and third floors crumbled and fell downward with a huge crash. Each piece of carefully planned and designed lumber let loose and caved in at weird angles, leaving a pile of rubble.

Dust rose into the air.

“Back up!” McGaven yelled, and everyone ran from the spectacle until it was finished.

When it was done, the once beautiful house was now a pile of old wood and shattered dreams. Its history halted. Dust continued to float over to the police officers in swirls with the humidity. There was a distinct smell of old barn wood and wet earth mixed with surrounding forest.

McGaven stood next to Sheriff Scott and they both were speechless for a moment.

Scott turned to the officers and said, “We need rescue workers here now! Get the fire department out herenow!”

“Do you think Katie’s in there?” whispered McGaven, barely able to speak, still staring at the wreckage. “Do you think she even survived that?”

“If anyone can survive something like that—it’s Katie.” The sheriff left to coordinate the rescue, pushing his personal feelings aside.

McGaven stood still, gaping at the wreckage, but then he had an idea.

Fifty-Three

“Shane,” said Katie with a raspy voice. “You okay?”

She sat up and was able to free herself from the larger beams of the house. They were lucky, she thought—at the final moment she’d dragged them both into the small closet and wrapped her arms around him to shield him. As the building collapsed, this little closet held fast, protecting them in a small pocket of air.

“I’m here,” Shane said. He sounded strange, as if he were in another room.

“Where are you? I can’t see much,” she said.

Katie crawled slowly, mindful of pipes and wiring—she didn’t know if there was electricity still coursing through the lines. She used her hands to feel her way. A tiny crack of light was above them—hopefully a good sign—with light and oxygen reaching them.

A hand grabbed hers, making her startle. “I’m here,” he said.

As Katie neared him, she saw an outline of a body lying on its side with an arm pinned beneath timber. “Shane,” she said. “Can you move?”

“A little, but my arm…” he said breathlessly. “I can’t move my arm.”

“Okay, I think we’re close to the outside so let’s see what I can do.” She began feeling around to see if she could move the obstructive wood. “Wait, what’s that sound?”

* * *

The deputies had all pitched in and began carefully pulling pieces of lumber and supports away from the outside, trying to find any area where there was an air pocket or chamber where Katie and Shane might be.

Soon, the fire department and volunteers arrived to help.

McGaven saw Chad drive up in his vehicle. He ran to meet him. Cisco was riding shotgun, panting and pacing back and forth as if he knew that Katie was in trouble. “Hey, man, glad you got here quickly.”

Chad looked grave and barely keeping it together, but said, “Great idea. Cisco can find where Katie is before we do.” He stopped McGaven. “Do you think that she survived that?” he said in a barely audible voice. He looked at the giant heap of rubble of a once large mansion.

McGaven gritted his teeth, and said, “The sheriff said if anyone could survive that it would be Katie.”

* * *

“Wait,” said Katie. “Hear that?”