Garrus absolutely does not hesitate. He's in motion as soon as he says that word. He knows he needs to watch his step, to keep from becoming another rescue in the rubble, but time is absolutely of the essence. His steps are careful, fast. And he's there in a few long strides.

Something is groaning, and there's bits and pieces raining. He curses, colorfully, but, thankfully, in a his own familiar language. No human ears scalded here. Which turns out to be smart, in a weird sort of way, when the children are revealed.

The corpse barely gets a glance. Humans aren't made to squish like that. Not a priority, not the goal. "Search and rescue," he informs them, quickly. He doesn't want to linger, and risk that groaning noise going from removed debris to the crap under his feet. "You hurt?"

When the older kid shakes their head, that's all he needs. He scoops them both up in one go. Backing up and getting them out of the shallow grave as fast as he can, while trying not to sprain an ankle. "Clear, Shepard!"

The little one, the infant, is shrieking loud enough to wake the dead. So he adds: "They're not injured!"