At first, Max softly whispered, "This is not like Sarah at all. Something's seriously wrong. We need to go get her."

Collin eased off his stool and walked to the control room window, "Go get her? Where?"

"Next door."

"Right next door? I didn't know that. You want me to bring her up here?"

Max raised his voice a little and stood up, "No. I want you to mind the station. I'll get her this far, then you can carry her up the stairs. Deal?"

"I don't know how to work the controls."

Max hobbled around the corner into the studio and grinned, "Good. Don't touch anything. I'll yell when I get her this far." He headed for the door, then abruptly stopped. This time his voice came across loud and clear, "On the other hand, I'll have to take Net Control. You go get her."

Collin rolled his eyes and headed out the door, "Isn't that what I just said?"

"And don't drop her. She can't walk, you know."

"I won't drop her." This time it was Collin who grinned, already starting his descent down the first flight of stairs. "We're still on the air, you know."

Max spun around and stared at the black microphone on Collin's console.

"WC7NJT."

Sarah didn't answer. Instead, tears streamed down her cheeks and her eyes were glued to her sagging ceiling. Tortured wood began to creak and groan as the duplex apartment attempted to settle on its mangled and broken foundation. And with it, her ceiling moved -- slipping lower and lower.