Arthur had died so many times in dreams, but it wasn't death he was worried about. His totem didn't work here and for all he knew, he would keep dying in an endless limbo of nothing, and that was what scared him. So he was going to stay living and hope for the best. That was the plan until a building fell on him, anyway.
The sounds of movement above were a relief, and Arthur let his head fall back on a chunk of concrete that kept him up. The remains of the building gave an ominous groan as Zoe made it through, and the basement was black as pitch until the eyes adjusted. The remains of soaked furniture and the top three floors now filled most of the space, but a silver case, lying open, caught the light.
"Here." Arthur had been knocked out of his chair and he was lying pinned under a support beam twice the size of a man. He squinted to try to make out who was there.