Stories from Naoh’ra Rabntah

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Just Another Day

“I’m just saying,” Rodney said, sipping his coffee, “if you keep letting Wade cook, we’re all gonna regret it eventually.”

Wade didn’t look up. “Better than your mystery chili. No one’s recovered from that.”

“Maybe they just weren’t strong enough,” Rodney quipped.

Tyler flipped a page in his magazine with a snort.

“Or maybe it belonged in a hazmat bin,” Matt said, standing near the coffee pot. “Gavin’s still in recovery.”

“Confirmed,” Gavin said. “Barely survived.”

Before anyone could respond, Dispatch crackled over the speakers.

“Rescue 3, Aid 34—respond to Maxwell Construction for a worker trapped in an elevator shaft, structure unstable.”

The shift was immediate. Matt put down his cup. “Gear up. Standard elevator rescue protocol. Let’s go.”

Tyler ditched the magazine, already halfway to the gear bench. Gavin yanked his compartment shut and hauled on his jacket in one motion. Wade loaded the stabilizer kit. No hesitation, no chatter. Rodney ran a final count, then followed.

Matt cinched his radio strap, gloves already on, and climbed aboard. He scanned the crew once. “Stick to the plan, and everyone gets to go home.”


The rig halted at the construction site perimeter. Cranes loomed overhead. Scaffolding and exposed beams sketched out the skeletal frame. Dust hung in the floodlights, swirling on impact. Rescue 3 deployed without pause.

“Captain Rosfield?” one of Aid 34’s firefighters got his attention. “We’ve got a worker trapped in the elevator shaft—cab’s jammed halfway. Structure’s unstable, lines are fouled. No safe access from below.”

“Anyone make contact?”

“Negative. Foreman says he’s still responsive—they’ve heard him from inside, but no clear communication yet.”

“We’ll take it from here.” Matt turned to the foreman. “Do you have a layout?”

He rifled through a clipboard and passed over a blueprint. Matt spread it out on the nearest surface, mapping cab position, anchor lines, and compromised supports.

“The lines are strained but holding.” He tapped a section. “We stabilize these beams—here, here—then move on extraction. Tyler, harness and safety lines. Wade, stabilizers. Gavin, perimeter watch—I want alerts on any shift.”

Metal struck concrete as gear fell into place, each task running swift and smooth. Matt remained near the blueprint, steps aligning mentally as he tracked progress and recalculated.

Rodney approached for the go-ahead. “Prep’s done. Ready when you are, Captain.”

He gave a curt nod. “Then let’s move.”


From the platform above, Matt peered down at the cab. It hung midway up, open and skewed. A figure was tucked inside, not daring to move.

“Cab’s leaning more than expected. Safety lines are holding for now, but we need to move efficiently. Wade, lock down those beams we marked earlier. Tyler, bring the harness closer, but hold until I signal. Rodney, monitor the lines for any movement.”

Matt raised his voice, loud enough to carry.

“Rescue Squad here! We’ve got you. Stay still and follow our lead. We’re taking this slow and steady—you’re doing great.”

The rest worked around him, hitting their marks.

“Stabilizers locked,” Wade reported.

“Anchor points secure,” Tyler confirmed.

“Good.” Matt clipped in and gave the line a firm tug. “Stick to the plan—stabilization and extraction.”

Rodney adjusted the secondary rope. Tyler set the rescue harness nearby and shot him a thumbs-up.

“Gavin, I’m heading in. Monitor from your side.”

He gripped the line and descended without waiting.


The air thickened as Matt lowered himself into the shaft. His gloved hands slid with practiced control, pausing to check tension before every drop.

“Progressing toward the cab,” he radioed in.

He sank the last meter and held, boots hovering just above the frame. Inside, the worker hunched in the corner, clinging to the support rails.

“Hey! I’m Matt. I’m here to help. What’s your name?”

“J-Jim,” he stammered.

“Alright, Jim. You’re in good hands. We’ll take this one step at a time.”

Matt stepped onto the grated floor, shifting his weight carefully. The cab creaked, frame straining under the added load. He checked the lines again before speaking. “This harness will lift you out. It might feel snug, but that’s how it keeps you secure.”

“I—I can’t look down.”

“You don’t need to. Eyes on me. What do you do here, Jim?”

“Electrical,” Jim said, shaky. “I was running cables when the lines jammed.”

“Electrical, huh?” Matt tightened another strap. “So you’re the guy keeping the lights on? Looks like they’d be lost without you.”

“Feels like I’m the one stuck now.”

“Hey, every operation’s got one tough day. This is yours. And guess what? You’ve got us to bail you out. Not a bad deal, right?”

He secured the last strap with clean precision.

“Keep your arms close. Let the harness do the work. We’ll have you out of here before you miss a single circuit.”


“Harness is ready. Anchor’s holding solid on my end.”

“He makes it sound like just another day,” Tyler muttered.

“Because to him, it probably is,” Wade said. “That’s why Rosfield’s down there.”

“Worker’s secure. Keep it smooth and steady—lift him now.”

They eased the harness upward—Tyler drove the pull while Rodney steadied the line beside him.

“You’re doing great!” Rodney called down. “Just stay still—we’ve got you.”

The cab swayed faintly. Wade crouched at the stabilizers, adjusting a bar with quick accuracy.

“Hang tight—” Tyler gritted his teeth as Jim came into range. ”You’re almost there!”

Metal split with a deafening crack.

One of the compromised safety lines failed. The cab swung sideways, beams shuddering as it tipped.

“Secondary collapse!” Matt shouted into their comms. “Stabilize the shaft—get him clear!”

“Lower frame’s going!” Wade was already on it. “We’re losing window!”

Rubble tore through the shaft in harsh bursts. Jim gasped—a raw, guttural sound—as he reached the platform. Tyler planted and shoved him over the edge.

Just as Jim cleared the threshold, the last support line snapped. The cab plunged, dragging scaffolding and beams behind it. The casing convulsed with the impact, sending a tidal wave of debris below.

Matt’s safety rope jerked hard, the anchor absorbing the strain as the structure buckled. For a moment, it held.

Then a violent jolt ripped through the air.

“Matt—”

Tyler cried out as the rope whipped downward into the void. Beside him, Rodney stared after it, the enormity of the situation sinking in.


Inside the shaft, Matt slammed into the wall before he could brace. Pain exploded through his ribs, knocking him breathless. He locked on without thought, coarse rope burning through gloves.

Everything felt distant—like it was happening to someone else. Steel shrieked overhead, thunderous but wrong, distorted like it seeped through fog. Dust scraped his throat, blurred his eyes. He blinked, slow and mechanical, body moving on instinct only.

Another rupture cut through the noise—sharp and final. His head tilted back, vision swimming as the anchor above gave way. The slack in the rope was sudden, almost surreal. Then came the sickening lurch of freefall as the line slipped uselessly through his hands.

The roar of collapsing beams folded into the background. His surroundings broke into fragments—blunt force, stinging bites, wind across his face. Debris rained around him, jagged and fast, but he barely registered it.

There was nothing to grab. Nothing to fight. Silence closed in, and the world let go.


“Matt!” Rodney barked into the mic. “Matt, do you copy?!”

Static answered—no reply. The hollow rush of open air.

His pulse hammered. “Come on, don’t do this, Matt!”

Still nothing.

“Rodney, what’s the situation up there?” Gavin came through. “I saw the cab drop—any sign of Rosfield?”

Rodney hesitated. His eyes jumped between Tyler and Wade. They stood frozen, wordless. The reality set in, stopping everything cold.

Jim, trembling from the lift, let out a choked breath. “He—he stayed. He told me to go first.” His voice faltered, horror settling in. “He said he’d be right behind me. Why didn’t he come up? He—he was right there—”

A second too long. A second lost. Rodney swallowed hard, then fired off orders. “Secure the shaft! Prep for extraction! Move now!”

“We…” Tyler stuttered. “We lost his line.”

“Pull it together, Tyler! Get the secondary lines ready now! Wade—stabilize what you can. This shaft has to hold.”

Wade sprang into action, already working the bracing. Tyler reached for the ropes—fingers fumbling, finding the path by feel.

He keyed the radio again, tone leveled to command.

“Gavin, we’re going in for him. Get ground teams ready to receive.” He switched to Dispatch. “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday—Rescue 3, firefighter down in elevator shaft at Maxwell Construction. Shaft unstable.”

“Dispatch copies Mayday for Rescue 3. RIT activation and additional Rescue company assigned.”

“Request immediate backup for extraction, possible trauma. Need ER physician on scene.”

“Copy, Station 34 companies en route, ETA five. Battalion 3 and Medic 412 responding with ER physician, ETA eight. Rescue 5 en route, ETA one-five.”

Rodney killed transmission. “No time to wait. We’re getting him out now.”