Re: [No. 22 -> No. 8: Hunter R & Cris M]
The sinkhole went down forever, and Hunter felt like it was reaching up to pull at him, inexorable. It wasn't a suction of mud at all, it was a gaping emptiness that now pulled him downward, just gravity hauling down at sixty percent of his body as it dangled in pure space.
"Cris!" Hunter was gasping through adrenaline-fueled lunges at safety, brief flashes of muddy brown heels visible behind him as he tried to haul himself upward between sobbing, panicked pants for help. The whites of his eyes rolled up in his head as he made the mistake of looking backward, and the result was a scrabble of bloody nails on the turf as he stretched every tendon for the sleeve of the jacket Cris tossed in his direction. "I can't reach it. I can't, I can't, I can't."
Bits of turn fell away under Hunter's stomach and he gave a sound of pure despair as he started to slide a horror movie fall backward. The cuff of the jacket brushed under the tips of his fingers as Cris grew farther out of his way and he caught up a handful of ragweed to slow the descent. With a massive effort, he threw his other arm up and out, clutching at the jacket just as he slid entirely out of sight with a scream of terror.