Place: Old United States
Now named the Confederate Territories of North America
C.T.O.N.A., Water Base Navy, in the Northern Earth Dens.
Time: 2:45 a.m.
“We don’t have an exact number on how many people were killed when the bomb went off,” Water Base Boss Langston whispered in Joe’s ear. “But we can’t stay on this base. It’s caving in. We need to get out.”
As Joe bandaged the arm of an injured old woman curled on the cement floor of the mess hall, he didn’t acknowledge the young leader. Instead, he stayed crouched and adjusted her splint.
A team of H.S.P.C. agents rushed into the area. The six-man squad had returned from hunting the underground halls for survivors after the first explosion. Agent Hugh carried two children into the long, narrow room and settled them on cots. People pushed tables against the wall to make room for the extra bodies.
From his vantage point, Joe couldn’t tell if the individuals were alive or dead. Around him, battered water base guards, bruised children from the adoption center, and folks whose homes were destroyed huddled near tiny battery-powered heaters. Everyone crowded into the rendezvous point, lost, faces caked in dirt and blood. A child of six held her tiny hand over her eye. Blood gushed from the cracks of her fingers. The ash marks across her face looked like war paint. Sadly, that’s what this was—another strategic move by The Originals in their war against the H.S.P.C.
A faint rumble rolled through the hallways. Joe lifted his head and listened. Another bomb. That made two. He prayed there wouldn’t be three.
“Keep looking for survivors.” Joe patted the old lady’s hand. He glanced to Langston and snapped, “I want a head count.”
Straightening from his squat, Joe pulled out his flashlight and switched it on. The light flashed on and off, making him hit the electric torch until it behaved. Next, he searched his cargo pocket for an extra magazine.
“Sir…” Langston hesitated as if the term “sir” tasted bitter on his tongue. “Should we tell everyone the cave-in was caused by a bomb?”
That wasn’t a question. That might be a heads-up on what Langston wanted to do next. Shaking his head, Joe slipped off the glowing blue gears bracelet that identified him as an H.S.P.C. agent.
“If we tell everyone, they’ll panic. Keep that information on a need-to-know basis.” Joe’s eyes flipped to a woman cowering near a set of flickering snowflake lights. The first detonation had been near the electrical panels. That blast had cut the power. According to Langston, the base had been without power for two hours. They needed heat and light, but it was too dangerous to send someone to fix the electrical. Also, they couldn’t abandon anyone who was still breathing.
“What if there’s another bomb? We can’t look for people in the dark.” Langston crossed his arms over his chest. “We should get out of here.”
“Use flashlights. Agents need to hunt for anyone alive.” Joe took two steps toward the exit. He was done with this useless exchange. The water base boss wouldn’t change Joe’s mind. They couldn’t leave people here to die.
“What about the water?” Langston asked. “It’s flooding. What if we get electrocuted?”
Joe paused.
Teams had reported a pipe busted from the second bomb in the water-tank room. Water had pooled near the orphanage. Two shivering children sat against the wall wrapped in blankets, their wet hair plastered to their foreheads. Yes, they would be cold, but that couldn’t be helped. Duty came before comfort. Responsibility came before everything.
“Tell your guards to dress warmly. If they have waterproof boots, wear them. Get flashlights. We look for survivors. Everyone will be fine in the water as long as we don’t turn on the power.” Joe’s eyes speared Langston when the other man opened his mouth again. Enough. It was time to move. “I want numbers. I want to know about the children in the adoption center. Get me their files. I want all the children accounted for.”
Joe didn’t know exactly why The Originals, the organization that hated the H.S.P.C., would bomb a base with mostly kids, but he figured he would find out soon enough. In the meantime, he would handle what he could. That meant saving lives. Joe was as proficient at helping people as he was at killing them.
“I’ll get the files.” The water base boss nodded, but before he turned away, he stopped. The young man didn’t uncross his arms. “You’re putting me and my guards at risk if we stay, sir, I know you don’t care. You’re Snow-Everyone-Joe and all, but some of us have families we want to go home to.”
He didn’t care. No matter how many people said that or what nickname they’d given him, they didn’t know him. Joe had a heart. Even if people whispered about his icy demeanor and his soulless black eyes, they were wrong. Joe did feel. No one ever saw that. Maybe he didn’t have emotions when he was a child, but he certainly did now.
“I’ve been helping people since before you knew how to walk.” Joe snatched Langston’s arm. “I’m not scared, and just because you are, doesn’t mean we’re going to ditch people to save our own asses. You say I’m the one that doesn’t care?” Joe shook his head. “You’re the one who wants to leave survivors to die. Wow… I mean, really… wow.”
“But what if there’s a third hit? What if the person who did this is still on the base? Maybe there are bombs everywhere.” Fear laced the other man’s voice. “I am scared. I don’t want to die.”
Joe had only been here an hour. Langston had a point. This could be the start of many explosions. There could be someone on the base setting more bombs even as they spoke. A chill raced down his spine at the thought of a pile of dead children.
“Keep the info that the cave-in was because of bombs to only the agents.” Once again, Joe started for the exit. “You’re in charge until I get back. Stay here and stay safe.” Joe reached the door that let out into the hall. “I’ll look around. When the next set of agents arrives, move everyone onto the platform. Rea and Karma sent us our own train straight from H.S.P.C. Headquarters. Get everyone loaded.”
“Wait,” Langston called. “What if you don’t come back? There are still areas collapsing.”
“I’m not scared of anything.” Joe had the urge to roll his eyes like a nine-year-old. “Do as I say. Get everyone on the train. I’ll keep looking. I don’t quit.”
