Wednesday, June 17th, 2075, Oxford. Primary Extraction Team
Trotting up the stairs with his head on a swivel, Al heard an unholy wrenching sound and looked up in time to see a whole section of the structure directly above him separate from its struts and come tumbling down. He bounded up several more steps just quickly enough that it crashed down at his heels, spraying a mist of acid that stung the back of his neck like fiery pinpricks, reminding him of that dread day more than forty years ago. His hands tingled at the memory.
No sooner had he dodged that hazard, however, than Isaint called, "Fire in the hole," and Al closed his eyes, covered his ears, and hunkered down until he heard the blast, then resumed his ascent.
All hell was breaking loose and still no sign of Doctor Dick.