Hope.

Two days after the earth collapsed and swallowed lives, rescuers were still hopeful that maybe, somewhere in the mix of mud and lumber and cars crushed like toys, someone is waiting for them.

After the rescuers' adrenaline and Red Cross meals no longer sustain them, they run on hope.

They don't talk about the what-ifs -- what if their frenzied pace wasn't worth it, what if they had gotten there sooner, what if nobody made it.

"It doesn't help," said Lt. Kevin Hartigan, with the Upper Ojai Search and Rescue Team. "Right now we keep motivated to the task."

So they dig.

Twelve hours one day, 16 the next, 12 the next.

Dissecting the pile of debris, pulling it apart with hands and buckets. Kiddie pools and twisted bikes and flannel blankets caked in mud.

They searched for what wasn't there as much as what was -- pockets of air, a space mud didn't find, where a person could breathe for days while waiting.

Someone could live under there four days, maybe five, officials said.

Rescuers have found those holes of air, sometimes 5 feet deep. Plenty of room for survival, Hartigan said. But every hour counts.

They spoke of miracles: men on mountaintops who survived the impossible, tsunami survivors who defied the ocean.

It's happened before, said Ventura County Sheriff's Department Detective Kevin Donoghue. It can happen again.

But there are signs hope is dimming.

An area gently picked apart by hand on Tuesday, where survivors were thought to be, was torn apart by a diesel-powered excavator Wednesday. Rescuers found one survivor there in the first hours of the disaster, but then found five bodies.

By Wednesday, there were fewer pieces of homes to search, only the deep mud that flooded a neighborhood.

Today, the decision comes about whether to call off the rescue and begin the recovery.

Wednesday, other excavators attacked the pile while searchers moved to new areas, where they might find that miracle before it's all over.

Even Jimmie Wallet, who lost three daughters and his wife, believed it might be possible.

"There are people in there who could be alive," he yelled at police, trying to get to the rubble to dig.

Chaplains from fire departments milled about the scene, ready.

"You always hope that someone will be found," said Ronald Mathews, a Ventura County Sheriff's Department chaplain. "When that's not the case, it's always difficult to handle."

When a void is found, the crews fall silent and the search dogs and come in. Rescuers search the pocket, usually finding nothing.

But they resume again, digging and hoping.