It was me or them and for the entire trek back to the surface I kept telling myself that I made the right choice, that I made the smart choice but I can't get their muffled cries for help out of my head. It wasn't my fault they were too slow and that I was lucky enough to be trespassing in the sub-basement tunnels when a volcanic eruption turned the city into a gruesome sequel to Pompeii.
I should have been dead, I should have choked on all the ash in the air but like any urban explorer worth their salt I carried an old gas mask with me. I mainly used it for cool photos, didn't think it even worked and yet it did.
Everything about my survival was down to pure luck - being in the right place at the right time save my life and finding that fire axe intact was my ticket to freedom. I just wish I'd been unconscious for maybe an hour or two more, long enough to not have met the dying.
A pyroclastic flow is supposed to rupture your skin before it even hits you, I couldn't say if it had for the survivors... they were encased in a thick layer of ash and were writhing on the floor. Some of them heard me coming and tried to reach out for help and I had no idea what to do so I stepped over them and carried on walking.
If you thought I was callous or cruel for this then I can only say it got worse. The windows and doorways were clogged with the dead and dying, all trapped in their last moments and blocking me from the outside.
I used the axe. I used the axe and I hacked through them and I should feel guiltier for it but they weren't going to make it anyway and I was so painfully close to freedom and I felt like even one survivor was better than a pile of burnt bones.
They didn't even sound like people at that point, they just sounded like dust being poured out of a bag.
I should have been dead, I should have choked on all the ash in the air but like any urban explorer worth their salt I carried an old gas mask with me. I mainly used it for cool photos, didn't think it even worked and yet it did.
Everything about my survival was down to pure luck - being in the right place at the right time save my life and finding that fire axe intact was my ticket to freedom. I just wish I'd been unconscious for maybe an hour or two more, long enough to not have met the dying.
A pyroclastic flow is supposed to rupture your skin before it even hits you, I couldn't say if it had for the survivors... they were encased in a thick layer of ash and were writhing on the floor. Some of them heard me coming and tried to reach out for help and I had no idea what to do so I stepped over them and carried on walking.
If you thought I was callous or cruel for this then I can only say it got worse. The windows and doorways were clogged with the dead and dying, all trapped in their last moments and blocking me from the outside.
I used the axe. I used the axe and I hacked through them and I should feel guiltier for it but they weren't going to make it anyway and I was so painfully close to freedom and I felt like even one survivor was better than a pile of burnt bones.
They didn't even sound like people at that point, they just sounded like dust being poured out of a bag.
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