He looked only mildly irritated, so Zar let it drop.

“We’ve found a car with several people in it, but we can’t get them out. All the exits are blocked.” Jean Paul’s mouth was pinched. “The ventilation system is working, but there’s still a lot of smoke in the tunnel, and several fires are still burning.”

“Have you told the train employees?”

“I can’t find anyone who doesn’t already have his hands full.”

“Show me.”

They walked swiftly toward the train.

They covered their faces with their sleeves as they got closer to the car. Two train employees were struggling to open the emergency exit window, but there was metal debris in the way, blocking their access to it.

“We need tools,” Zar shouted at Jean Paul. The noise of the fire alarm, the fire, and the shouts from people all created a near-impossible wall of background noise to communicate through.

“I’ll try to find some.” Jean Paul limped off into the gloom and smoke.

Zar examined the other visible windows and found one that looked as if it had been partially ripped out of its casing.

He waved at the train employees, and they came over. One of them was wearing heavy work gloves.

“Can you clear away the glass?” Zar asked him.

The other man nodded and stretched up to grab the dislodged pane and yank it out. It took a few tries, but he was able to tug most of the glass far enough away to allow people to escape.

A woman appeared in the window, put her leg over the sill, and slid out.

Zar and the other employee caught her then let her go in time to catch a young boy. They helped ten or twelve people out before Jean Paul arrived with another employee who carried a large toolbox.

“See if you can get through either of the doors to this car,” he said to them. “There may be injured inside who can’t make it to the window.”

A woman ran from the forward part of the train toward them yelling, “Someone help me, my son is trapped!”

It was the mother of the boy with the broken arm, Marie. “Where?” Zar asked, moving quickly to her side.

“On the other side of that car,” she answered, pointing.

“Show me.”

Marie turned and led him through the debris and to the other side of the tracks.

He couldn’t see anything at first. Then he looked down. Amongst the rubble and dirt, he saw the child’s head and neck, the rest of his body covered by the car.

Zar swore softly. He looked over his shoulder at Jean Paul. “Get Anna.”

Zar wasn’t sure the boy lived, but before he could touch the child, Luke’s chest rose and fell, and his eyes opened for a moment. Relief punched much-needed adrenaline into Zar’s bloodstream. Alive. But for how long?

Zar stood and moved around the car, bending low to examine the ground around and underneath the wreckage.

Jean Paul came back with Anna, and she ran directly to the boy. She put her hand on the boy’s neck and announced, “He’s got a strong pulse.”

“Thank God,” his mother sobbed, covering her face with her hands.

Anna glanced at the boy’s mother. “Marie?”

The distraught woman nodded.

Anna straightened up. “The first thing we need to do is keep him warm.” Her voice was calm and confident. “Can you find something to cover him with?”