Rating – T, for language and safety I guess...

Summary - Everything ended and nothing was able to stop it. By accident, chance or even fate, a young teen has been given the chance to see that things are put right: to rewrite history's weave. A team that fell will rise and times will change...hopefully...

Warnings – None for this chapter

Notes – Rewrite of Elemental Squad: Red Inferno

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers... although Saban has it back again...

Word Count – 1,550 Words


Inferno's Fall
By. Wingedisis16

"It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be."
~ J.K. Rowling


Chapter One – Crash and Burn

In the middle of the bright azure summer sky a rift, a hole in space-time, opened, dropping a brunette teenage girl onto the grass below. Just as soon as the tear had appeared, it vanished – leaving no evidence of ever existing, except for the package it had, ungracefully, delivered. On the ground the teenage girl laid still, blood covered herself and her belongings; splatters all over her clothes, fresh red liquid dripped down a cut that stretched down along her right leg. Inside her right hand, completely melted and deformed was a piece of red and black metal, a small blood-red ruby poked through the mess. Tears, some fresh, others dry still covered the girl's face. She tried to get up only to wince as pain shot through her body, lying back down on the soft grass she tried to catch the breath that escaped her. Beside the teen – covered in partially-dried blood – rested a large black duffel bag, patches littered the cloth. A pair of black and red rollerblades was tied to the bag's handles. Sticking out of the duffel bag was the bloodied hilt of a katana; the handle was wrapped in red and black silk cord.

After a few more minutes of resting in the slowly setting sun, the teenage girl pulled herself to her feet. Wincing again, she moved her hand over a slowly expanding red spot on the right side of her shirt; blood was seeping through the white cotton staining the fabric and her hand. "That's going to leave a scar." Picking up her bag, she shoved the piece of metal she held deep inside and hid the weapon before tossing the pack on her back and walking away. "Where the hell am I now…" leaving the park she noticed the sign at the entrance declaring the grass she landed on as a part of Angel Grove Park. "Angel Grove… that brings back memories…" not stopping to think how a city that had practicality wiped been off the map just a year prior by an unprecedented attack, was once again a bustling city full of life… it was nothing like the war torn society she was from. The teen pulled her jacket around her tightly, trying to hide her injuries from any who would chance a glance.

Following a crowd of people she walked down the streets her mind racing with what to do next. As she passed a news stand she caught a glance at the paper, reading the date. July 29th, 1994. New problem… It had been 2006 at last check.

She couldn't go to a hospital; they would put her in the psych ward with the explanation of exactly how she came to receive the injuries. Her ID would be considered fake with her birthday reading her to only be four years old and not nearly sixteen and most of the cash on her was some of the new series the US had begun to print in the 2000's. The sun was just above the horizon sinking fast. "You alright there young lady?" she halted as an old man, well into his seventies, moved out of a storefront.

"Yeah…"

"Doesn't look it to me. Let's get you cleaned up." He unlocked the door and held it open. She didn't move.

"I don't need any help."

"I have kids of my own and grandkids, young lady, I know when a person is hurt and you my dear are bleeding on the ground your standing. Now seeing as you passed the hospital most likely and did not seek help my guess is you got into some trouble and you don't want your folks finding out. Am I right so far?"

"My parents died a long time ago. I've been on my own a couple of years for the most part." While the part about her parents was true, the later wasn't. Her best friend turned boyfriend's grandmother had sheltered her for several years, but that was before the war. Figuring she had nothing left to lose she walked through the door and into a geeks paradise, electronics everywhere.

"You sit down and I will go get the first aid kit from the back." About to protest saying she had her own the man was gone and back within seconds a large plastic tool box in hand. "I'll leave you to it, however if I find you are still hurt when I get back from down the street I'll have a lady friend of mine take a look at ya, and trust me Martha is a mother hen if you've ever seen one." As the old man started for the door he paused and turned around. "I'm Carl Anders, most of the kids who come through my shop call me Old Man Anders."

"Erica Claze."

"Well Ms. Claze I expect you to still be here when I get back. Understand?"

"Yes sir." Old Man Anders closed the blinds to the shop and walked out of the door. Setting her bag down she took off the now blood stained jacket and set it aside, hopefully it could be cleaned, it was her favorite. Erica slowly removed her shit, leaving her standing in the shop in her bra, which was now a brownish red. Opening the first-aid kit and the one from her own pack she found wipes and began to clean the wounds trying to endure the pain from her injuries and the sting of alcohol.

After several minutes, and over a dozen wipes the blood gone and the cuts clearly visible. Drying her hands she ripped open several packets of sterile gauze squares and applied them before tightly wrapping them with a roll of the same. Pulling a somewhat clean shirt over her head to was now at least decent for when the store owner came back. With the cuts that were not extremely major taken care of by either bandage or band-aid she moved onto the more serious that needed stitches.

Carl walked into the shop twenty minutes later, a woman and teenage girl in tow. The three stopped as they saw Erica making clean, precise stitches on a large gash located on her right leg. A pile of used antiseptic wipes and other medical material rested next to her. The girl's shit was visible now that the jacket had been removed and set aside. "I'm back."

Erica looked up as she finished the last stitch, clipping the sting. "I have most of it taken care of…"

"This is my very good friend Martha and my granddaughter Cynthia."

Erica greeted the woman politely before rolling down her pant leg. "Well let's take a look at you and make sure you didn't miss anything and see how well you did patching yourself up."

"Martha is a trained nurse." Carl smiled. "Cynthia bought some of her clothes seeing as thought you two were about the right size. I'll step out for a few more minutes while you ladies handle things in here."

"Arigato," as Carl walked out and shut the door Martha got to work looked over all of Erica's handiwork.

"Well my dear you have some skill in first-aid I see. These stitches are nice and clean. I will not ask you how you received these wounds or the training as I suspect you will not answer me." Erica remained silent, loosely covering the fresh stitches in a gauze wrap followed by pulling her pant leg down and jacket on once more. Martha pulled from the bag that had gone unnoticed for some time a plastic covered plate with some food on it. "Eat up. I just made this as it were, some of my famous lasagna." With a smile Erica thanked the woman for the food and ate it with no complaints.

"So you're Erica right, thought you were a friend of mine for a minute there. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt. If we need to get you something else we can raid my closet later." The blond haired teen smiled as she held out the offered clothes. When Carl came back out Erica stood in blue jeans and a purple shirt, her own sneakers were on once more.

"Thanks…"

"You have a place to go, young lady?" Carl Anders stood next to his granddaughter looking at the blonde's new friend.

"No… no money either," the date flashing through her mind again as she spoke.

"Mom and Dad said you can crash at my house tonight." Cynthia smiled picking up Erica's old clothes and putting them into the bag she had brought with her.

"Do you know anything about electronics?"

"A bit," Mostly Zords… Erica thought to herself thinking of what Michael had taught her about repairing the larger than life robots.

"We'll talk in the morning, for now you get some rest."

Cynthia walked out of the shop, waiting for Erica at the door before showing the other teen down the street to her house. Whatever was coming she would be able to handle it later, right now Erica was going to sleep for a week. The events from before her arrival had yet to hit her, and when, no possibility of an if anywhere in the equation, they finally did she would crash and most likely, burn.


Well that's it for the first chapter... for anyone who didn't know, which I have a feeling is most, this is a rewrite of a story I started posting back in 07-08. There are a number of changes, the main one being the switch from first to third point of view. If anyone would like to beta send me a PM. Otherwise, hope everyone enjoyed it and I really hope to finally finish this after almost five years of work.