A/N: Hi loyal readers! I know I don't do author's notes much, but this time I'd like to thank everyone who's been reviewing and reading for their criticisms and compliments, which have all been very helpful. Also, hooray for the Gathering Storm, which hit 10,000 views! I just wanted to mention that—thanks to everyone who read that, and any and all PMs or reviews for any of my stories are welcome!
When I woke up the next morning, I knew that something was wrong. The harsh, guttural coughing was somewhat silenced by the heavy door that opened up into the tenth-floor main hallway, but it was still very audible. It was about eight in the morning, the time I usually woke up now that I was safe; before I had joined this community, I had always been up before the crack of dawn.
I threw on some old clothes hastily, desperate to find out where the noise was coming from. The halls were empty; I stumbled out the door, my shirt still unbuttoned, and followed the coughing sounds to the infirmary.
One of the sentries of our group, whose name I did not know, lay rigid on a cot in the middle of the room, his shirt unbuttoned and thrown open. The new man, William, was holding a stethoscope up to his chest, listening carefully to heartbeat and various other sounds. Several people, including Ari, were gathered around him.
"His breathing's forced…it's not natural," William spoke, his voice deep and mellifluous. I had no idea he had any medical skill; where was Celine at a time like this?
"Where is—"
"She's out scavenging. We need her here…but Mr. Itliano will have to do until she returns."
Ari said nothing more, his focus all on the patient and his examiner. The sentry's eyes were closed, and it was obvious that every breath brought pain to him.
"He has a fever as well…relatively high temperature…"
William was now checking his forehead with his bare hand, and withdrew after a few seconds.
"Well…the fever and the coughs are a sure sign."
"What does he have?" Ari asked, concerned.
"It's . His lungs are stuffed full of silica dust and ash…his respiratory tract may be infected and swollen as well…"
He closely examined the sentry's throat and upper chest, gently pressing down in several areas.
"I…can't tell how swollen his upper respiratory tract is, or exactly how much dust he's inhaled. But it's definitely not just him…"
The words were chilling. I had been having minor breathing problems lately as well, especially at night; although they hadn't left me bedridden, they were certainly a cause for concern.
"Do you mean to say…"
Ari knew what the problem was.
"The amount of ash in the air is increasing, and it's becoming noticeable…Mr. Costellato's medical records do mention several respiratory problems early in life though. So it's not a cause for great concern…yet…"
William trailed off as several people left, including Derek and one of the other sentries I recognized, Clara. It was just Ari, Conor and I, along with William and his agonized patient, who had fallen into a semiconscious state.
"If we do not get proper medical equipment for him, he won't last the week," William said quietly, removing the medical gear and replacing it on a nearby examination table. "He's already in a bad state, and the ash is just getting thicker. Soon, it will be affecting most, if not all of us."
The news was grim, but it was not a fatal blow to us.
"It will be quite a while, at least a few weeks, before everyone will be affected. And those are just my rough predictions—but our time is limited. We need supplies…"
As William trailed off again, Ari's face darkened.
"What kind of supplies?"
"I'll need breathing units, oxygen tanks, pumps, IV…"
"There's almost no chance we can get all of that," Ari spoke, his voice low. Conor had walked out now, leaving us along in the room. "Almost all of the hospitals are either barricaded or looted, and there's almost no way our scouts can haul that equipment back…it would be damn near impossible…"
William shook his head, obviously discouraged by Ari's pessimistic view.
"It's possible. I've heard that the Midland Children's Hospital wasn't barricaded, or even locked during the evacuation—"
"That's directly above the mid-city cistern!"
The words meant little to William, who shook his head again in apparent confusion.
"I'm sorry?"
"The cistern is held by raiders—it's one of their main camps, we've known that since establishing our community here. I'm almost positive that they've garrisoned the hospital as well; it would be foolish not to," Ari spoke, pacing the room and rubbing his chin as if thinking. He turned back to William, who bowed his head.
"I do not mean to put pressure on you, but time is running out," he spoke in the same calm, deep voice. "If your people cannot find this equipment, then Mr. Costellato's days are numbered."
He turned back briefly to the middle-aged man lying awkwardly on the cot, deep in sleep.
"I can do no more right now. Remember that time is against us."
William bowed his head to both of us and then left the room without another word. Ari, taking several deep breaths, turned to me.
"I know that you've been plotting behind my back, Leon."
I was taken aback, but said nothing. I figured sooner or later Ari would figure it out.
"It upsets me, yes…but there will be time for discipline later. Right now, I want you to carry this out."
I was taken even more aback; I stuttered several times, mangling my first words before I was finally able to speak.
"You…you want me to do it?"
"There's too much at stake here now…you heard what Mr. Itliano said. The ash is thickening, the sky is darkening, and time is against us. The benefits outweigh the risks now."
Ari led me to the door, where we would part ways.
"I need you to do this. Tonight, in fact…whoever you've been planning with, gather them, gather weapons, and I'll get you a map."
Ari patted me on the shoulder in a fatherly manner, and turned to head to his room. However, he returned to me almost immediately.
"I know I'm asking a lot of you, Leon. But you're the only one I can trust to do this."
We met, eye to eye. His eyes shone with a distant sadness, as if he expected this to be the last time we would speak. I smiled weakly at him, trying to maintain a straight face.
"I'll be alright."
We parted ways then; my stomach was beginning to tighten in anticipation and apprehension, but I stayed calm. Tonight would be the climax of our grand plan; whether or not we succeeded would depend on how we went about it.
xXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx
I decided not to tell Marcus until evening came; I wandered around the complex for most of the day, trying to ignore the growing fear that was clouding my thoughts like a dark shroud. Before speaking to Marcus, I decided to visit Miguel, who had taken to living in the same apartment as our people, away from the lobby where Paul and his followers normally lived.
"Miguel?"
His room was basically a glorified closet; there was a small bed, a nightstand, a small dresser, and a lamp all fit into a 10x8 space down on the eighth floor, where he lived alone. He seemed delighted to have a visitor, and welcome me in warmly.
"Just decided to come down and talk, eh?" Miguel asked, turning on the lamp as he welcomed me in. Despite the small size, the room was very well ventilated, and the tiny window at the top of the bed allowed some natural light in, although that amount was limited.
"Well…sort of. There's something I needed to ask you. Something serious."
Miguel's face darkened, much like Ari's earlier when he was prepared to hear bad news.
"Go on," he whispered, watching me closely.
I was going to recruit him into the assault on the cistern; at least, that's what my plan was. I was hoping that he would agree to back Marcus and I up once we left, in case everything went awry.
"Tonight…tonight…I've been commissioned by Ari to go on a mission."
Miguel was still listening, but I could read his eyes and his face very well. With every word that I spoke, his mouth became thinner and thinner, as he listened with intense apprehension.
"Marcus has already been signed up to go with me…we're going to be assaulting a raider outpost—"
Miguel straightened up immediately; he was completely taken aback by the idea.
"You…you're actually attacking them? The looters?"
He was whispering, to deter any eavesdroppers, but there was no mistaking the complete surprise in his voice. He hadn't seen it coming.
"It's—"
"Suicidal? Insane? Are you guys crazy? What kind of firepower do they have? What do we have?"
Miguel had a point; as he stood up, pacing the room and muttering incoherently, I began to realize that our situation was nearly hopeless. We were almost definitely outgunned, our arsenal consisting of hunting rifles, rusty pistols and the four assault rifles I had managed to pick up a few days back. We were almost certainly outnumbered; and our chances of surviving the attack, much less being successful in our mission, were incredibly slim.
What was Ari thinking? Was he even thinking?
At that moment, someone knocked on the door, which was half-open. As the door slid open, Rina peered inside, her happy, charming expression lighting up the rest of the room. She had never been in low spirits, ever since I had first met her; this was no exception. As she stepped into the room, she waved excitedly to me, and then motioned to Miguel, who had stopped pacing as soon as she had entered.
"Hi, Leon! You don't mind if I…er…interrupt?"
Rina cocked her head curiously, waiting for a reply. I nodded.
"Ah…Miguel, when you're done here, I've…cooked something. For us…it's just a quick dinner, nothing special…"
Even in the poor light of the lamp and the window, I could tell Rina was blushing. She clasped her hands together, waiting for a reply.
"A…dinner?" Miguel asked, rather shakily. I could tell that dinner was not on his mind right now.
"Just…something casual," Rina said, before suddenly stuttering. "Not…not like a d-date, nothing like that….n-no, it's just a casual little dinner. Something…er…s-special, just for us."
Rina was blushing again, her cheeks turning the darkest shade of red possible. Miguel, trying to avoid being too awkward, simply gave his reply.
"Um…yeah, sure…that would be great…"
His voice cracked, but Rina didn't notice. Her face was almost split by the smile, and she grabbed Miguel around the hips and hugged him tight before dashing out the door, leaving no trace behind.
We stood there for a moment, in complete silence. I didn't want to say anything; it would be too awkward, having just experienced the unpleasant situation I had been an involuntary witness to.
"I think I love her," Miguel whispered, his arms shaking visibly. He now turned to me, panicking.
"I…just couldn't say no, Leon…but I know you need me—"
"I don't necessarily need you, Miguel—"
"What do I do, then?"
He was now truly panicked; I assumed that he had not thought about our mission when accepting Rina's invitation to her "casual dinner". I was watching him closely, wondering what he was going to do.
"Miguel…it's up to you."
That didn't help him at all; rather, he seemed even more upset.
"Leon…I love her, I really do, I've been too nervous to do anything about it—"
His usually suave, calm personality was now upset by his sudden outburst of panic and anger, much like his state after Tobias' death.
"Just tell her you have to cancel—"
"But that would break her heart, don't you understand?" Miguel yelled at me, his hands balled up into tight, sweaty fists. "What if you did that to Celine? What if SHE invited you to a dinner, and you just broke off the engagement? How do you think she'd feel?"
For a moment, I was shocked beyond words; I had no idea Miguel knew anything about our relationship. We had done nothing to make anyone suspicious; in fact, we hadn't talked at all since the day before Tobias' death.
"I…I'm sorry…I shouldn't have said that…"
Miguel plopped himself down on the bed, his hands relaxing and returning to their normal state. I could see sweat gleaming on the back of his neck, and staining his T-shirt.
"Do what you think is right, then. If you can't tell her no—"
"I'm going with you."
His voice was firm, and I could tell he had resolved now to do his duty.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive. I cannot say no to her, but I cannot let you go out there alone…I couldn't let you die, Leon."
His eyes were appealing to me, gleaming in the dimming light. Night was coming on fast; my stomach grumbled, reminding me that it was past the usual dinner time.
"What will you do about Rina, then?"
Miguel seemed very troubled about this; he kept muttering "go with you", but he did not speak for a few moments.
"I…I cannot tell her no now. I will go with you, and…and take what I deserve afterwards."
His resolved was steeled; we shook hands, exchanging our vows to support one another, and then proceeded to the armory.
xXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx
Marcus wasn't too pleased about being told at such a late hour, but he was overjoyed that we were given permission to undergo our attack.
"He knew about it beforehand," I told him as we geared up in the armory. Flashlights, silenced weapons, black clothing, and medical kits were necessities; I was also bringing a satchel, in case we needed to haul equipment back.
"Well, that doesn't matter now then, does it?" Marcus replied, throwing on a tattered, bloodstained bulletproof vest that had been collecting dust in a corner. "He said he would deal with it later…at least we've got his full support."
"He's still extremely concerned about it," I said, loading the assault rifle and taking a few extra clips.
"I don't blame him," Marcus grunted as he shuffled out of the armory. "We're taking one hell of a risk here. It's probably the most reckless thing anyone has done in this place."
As we silently stalked down the stairs, I realized that I had gone without dinner. So had Miguel; he should have been up at the top floor right now, enjoying his casual date with Rina. But here we were, decked out in battle gear and armed with military-grade weaponry, marching out into the night.
"You aren't thinking of going on without me, are you?"
I had known him for only three days now, but his voice was immediately recognizable. Paul stood at the doorway, his hands in his pockets, as if he was expecting us. Somehow, he had caught wind of our departure.
"Paul—"
My warning was cut off.
"You have an extra rifle, no?"
He motioned to the extra rifle slung across Marcus' back, which was to be used in case one of the others jammed or broke.
"Well, yes—"
"And you could use another shot, can't you? What with the risks you're taking…the more support, the better," he spoke with a devilish grin.
He was right; we could use another man, but Paul was the person I least wanted on our squad.
"He has a point," Miguel whispered. I could tell that he did not favor Paul, not in the slightest, but we were definitely outnumbered. The addition of another would at least balance the odds a little more.
"Miguel's right," Paul said, taking a rather mocking, demeaning tone. "You could use some support…which I would be happy to provide."
He extended his arm as if to reach out for the extra rifle. I turned to Marcus, who was the main leader of this operation since he was in better favor with Ari than anyone else. He nodded stiffly, before tossing the extra rifle to Paul.
"He'll be my responsibility," Marcus spoke, specifically to me. "If he screws anything up…there'll be hell to pay."
At this point, Marcus was completely sober, and as focused as possible. Paul caught the rifle, slung it across his back, and surprisingly fell into line behind Miguel and I, who followed closely behind Marcus as we left the soothing light of the warm lobby and entered the cold, pitch black world of night.
