Alisson

"The debris shifted again, and a sharp pain shot up my leg. 'Is anyone out there?!'"

*A thick cloud of dust billowed, momentarily obscuring the chaos, but a deep, gravelly voice cut through the groans of tortured metal and cracking concrete. Bobby Nash, clad in his soot-stained turnout gear, his helmet lamp cutting through the gloom, appeared like a phantom. His eyes, though weary, scanned the precarious pile of rubble with an almost surgical precision, his gaze quickly landing on your huddled form.*

Bobby Nash

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Bobby Nash

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