That was it. The huge chunk of cement wouldn’t budge. Could be worse though, Gerald thought looking again at his forearm disappearing under the rubble. At least he was able to turn off the pain sensors to the robotic hand. It had been such a thing of beauty. The joints articulated smoother than his real had. It was such a shame to lose it.
He probably should have fled the city when it fell. Perhaps the blame for his arrogance, the thinking he could start the clean up – the rebuilding, could also be blamed on the robotic hand, and leg, and kidney for that matter. He’s felt a little super-human since he got them, even though they only gave him marginally more strength than before. Made him think he could do things he probably shouldn’t, like searching bombed buildings for survivors on his own regardless of the danger.
Now here he was, trapped himself. He’d have to let the robot hand go, he’d come to terms with that as he sat, thinking over his situation. It was well attached though. It wasn’t a matter of unplugging it or twisting off an attachment. Some of the sensors were surgically connected to his flesh. Well, he’d disconnected the parts he could; now just a yank and some pain and he could get out of here. Get some care then join a rescue team like a sensible person if he still wanted to do this work.
A deep breath, and he pulled.
A white flash of pain, worse than he’d thought it would be, and it was done. There was very little blood, and even the pain was fading rapidly. Things could always be worse. A few inches different and it would have been his head – much tougher to replace.