Chapter 34: There in the center of that silence was not eternity but the death of time and a loneliness so profound the word itself had no meaning.

Leo threw the screwdriver down with a frustrated clunk before remembering the sleeping demigod lying across from him. But all was well when Leo glanced up: Nico hadn't stirred.

The son of Hephaestus wiped the back of his arm across his forehead, grimacing as beads of sweat slipped down his face. He straightened, popping his spine and groaning as the muscles screamed in protest. Cracking his neck from side to side, he shook his hands before reaching once more for the ham radio. Leo whispered a pleading prayer to whatever minor god had become the patron of ham radios- maybe it was still his dad?- and reached for the knob hoping to pick up anything. Even just the NOAA would be welcome.

A sudden shiver ghosted across his skin and Leo shuddered, running his hands over his arms to warm up. Leo cast a dubious glance around the bunker. Maybe one of the campers had been messing with the thermal system and screwed it up? Or maybe Leo was just getting sick- he'd felt several cold flashes since arriving at camp. Maybe something to do with Melinoe's preferred way of travel hadn't sat right with him. Goosebumps raised over his skin and Leo felt the hairs on his neck pricking up. He tried to shrug off the feeling of being watched and reached for the radio.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered quietly and powered up the ham radio. At once, a static sound emitted from the radio, crackling and not altogether unpleasant. Leo gave a half-smile and reached for the dial, working it along the numbered system until he reached 162.550 MHz. A tinny male voice faintly filtered through the static, lilting awkwardly with robotic-like inflection.

"-Warning. December 5th through December 7th at seven p.m. for the greater New York city area. Heavy snow and sleet accumulations of up to 12 inches. Sustained winds of 80 miles per hour possible. Wind chill observed at -20 degrees Fahrenheit. Seek shelter. Do not go outdoors."

Several jarring beeps sounded, followed by a harsh and prolonged beep at a higher frequency designed to catch attention. Leo reached for the volume dial, worriedly casting a look at the sleeping son of Hades. But the demigod didn't move or wake. The message started over in a continuous loop. "Winter Storm Warning. December 5th through December 7th at seven p.m. for the greater New York city area. Heavy snow and sleet accumulations of up to 12 inches. Sustained winds-"

Static overtook the voice as it faded in and out. Leo frowned and tried to move the dial ever so slightly to recapture the warning but the static warped and squealed, sounding like whispers and calling voices.

"...home..."

Leo froze, his hand still on the dial. A shiver went down his back and the room suddenly felt cold again- frigid and quiet. His breath misted in the air. He swallowed heavily and listened more closely, but the static returned to normal. A twisting feeling settled in his gut and Leo reached for the dial again, ready to turn off the device.

But the temperature plummeted further, and the red indicator arrow moved along the radio designations without prompting from Leo. Eventually, it settled at the far left, pointing to no numbers at all. Again, the same tinny robotic voice sounded, but it was clear as day with no static interference.

"Severe Thunderstorm Warning in the greater Indianapolis area. Winds over 60 miles per hour and hail more than one inch in diameter. Confirmed lightning strikes within city limits. Seek shelter immediately. Severe Thunderstorm-"

Static flooded the bunker again and Leo sat transfixed. He stared at the radio, dimly aware that Nico had yet to wake up from the strange occurrence. The red arrow jerked before jumping to the extreme right. The static cleared and a voice sounded through the speakers, but it was higher, female, and human this time. Leo barely had a chance to reflect on the unlikely ability of the ham radio to pick up what was an FM frequency from public radio before the words drowned out any other thought.

"-a bizarre string of weather has all hands on deck out here, Kevin. I've just been informed that several buildings have caught fire in a series of lightning strikes. Firefighters are struggling to reach the area as other emergencies have cropped up due to the severe weather. Firefighters already on scene at the appearance of several sinkholes and areas being hit by devastating flooding and hail are having difficulties pulling the resources to direct to this fire. Neighboring residents have banded together to tackle the flames, but there's little to do besides protecting those buildings which have not yet caught fire."

There was a crackle and blowing noise as if the woman was speaking from inside a storm before she continued. "I had the chance to talk to a paramedic on the scene who cannot enter the structure without clearance from firefighters. She confirmed from eyewitnesses that at least two are dead and an unknown number are missing. Hopefully, we'll get some good news soon. This is Cheryl Karapova reporting live from Central Avenue on the situation at Dayspring. Back to you, Kevin."

Leo sat still atop his stool, fingers and face numb as the words slowly sank through his mind. Silence bled through the speakers as Leo's eyes found the sleeping form of Nico. Perhaps Leo himself was dreaming? Maybe he'd slipped off to sleep leaning over the radio and this was all-

"Go home." A loud voice blared through the speaker and the temperature dropped. Leo froze, eyes widening as he felt the semblance of fingers brush his forehead and felt a presence standing at his back. The voice spoke quietly from the radio again, frost creeping over the cables and frequency indicator. "Go. Home."

Static poured from the radio, growing louder and louder before the radio short-circuited and sparked. Nico shouted and woke up at that exact moment, the sudden movement tipping his stool away and back from the table. His head cracked against the concrete floor. The son of Hades immediately curled into a ball, cradling his head as he hissed at the pain.

Leo shot off his seat and hurried to the demigod's side, worry for the other boy and panic at the message from the radio warring for position within his mind. He knelt next to Nico and gently pried the boy's hands away, gingerly checking the area for damage. A large bump had begun to form, but there was no blood.

"Ghost Boy. Look at me, will you?"

Once Nico's pain-filled eyes flitted to his, Leo held up his hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Five."

"And now?" Leo tucked two of his fingers.

"Three."

Leo sighed and let his hand drop.

"Nico, I think something might be wrong-"

"-we have to get to Dayspring now."

The words from both boys overlapped as they spoke one over the other. Then, pausing as each took the other's words in, their eyes found one another- identical masks of worry and fear.

Leo felt his stomach drop. "What...what were you dreaming?"

Nico shook his head and gave a shiver, looking about the bunker. "Is there...was there something in here? It feels...off."

Leo swallowed. "There was a report on the radio and a voice and-" Leo's voice broke. "Nico. I think we need to get back to Dayspring. Like, now."

Nico's words stuck in his throat. He coughed and nodded. "Help me up and I'll get us out of here."

"But," Leo said. "Are you up for it?"

The son of Hades shrugged noncommittedly but grimaced as Leo placed Nico's hand across his shoulders and helped the boy to his feet. He paled as he stood and said, "I have to be."

Leo watched as Nico touched a hand to the rosary at his throat. Shadows began to slide toward them, sluggish and tired as if reflecting the current state of the demigod attempting to control them. Leo's heart thudded in his chest as he asked, "What if we don't get there in time?"

Nico's dark eyes met Leo's and his voice shook. "We're already too late."

The shadows washed up and over the pair of demigods, and Leo felt their feet bleed through the shadows and ground.

As the pair of demigods touched upon a sidewalk close to Dayspring, the first thing of which Leo became aware was the weight of Nico sinking into him. If it weren't for Leo's arm wrapped around the son of Hades' waist, the boy would have fallen. As it was, he sagged into Leo's side, taking shallow rasping breaths. Leo lowered the demigod to the ground, ignoring the acrid smell of smoke and haze stinging his eyes. He helped Nico until the boy's back rested against one of the trees placed alongside the concrete walkway.

Nico's skin was a dry-looking paper-white tinged gray. Blood trickled from both nostrils, dripping past the cupid's bow above his lip.

Leo licked his lips, the panic in his gut swelling at the sight of the other demigod. "We didn't- we didn't bring any ambrosia with us. It's all in the packs. What're we-"

The son of Hephaestus interrupted himself as Nico groaned and closed his eyes. "Talk to me, Ghost Boy. You can't die. I swear I'll invent something to bring you back to life, and I'll only tell dad jokes for the rest of your existence- living and dead. And don't think I'll run out of them. If I can invent something that brings you back, I can most definitely keep coming up with jokes. The creative mind knows no bounds, and mine certainly is a creative mind- or is it idle? Which one is a mind, and which one is devil's play? Isn't there a saying about that or something? Either way, I will kick your ass if you die on me now."

"Stop. Talking," Nico wheezed. "I'm...fine." The words were faint and spoken between breaths but there nonetheless.

Leo studied the other demigod before gazing up at the burning building. His stomach clenched and he stood. Several figures in front of the structure took notice of the two boys, one calling out faintly and starting over to the pair. "I have to go, Nico. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Valdez. You can't just-"

Leo kept talking. "You need to stay here. I have to help."

"You can't go alone. I'll go with you just...just give me a minute." Nico's labored breathing hitched in pain as he tried to move but fell back against the tree.

Leo ducked back down, resting a hand on Nico's shoulder. "You can't come, Ghost Boy. Please. I can't help anyone if I'm worried about you dying in a burning building, yeah?"

"But-"

Shaking his head, Leo said, "No buts. Besides, the kids will need someone out here with them. Okay? A familiar face."

"Leo."

The son of Hephaestus froze at the heartbreak in the other boy's voice. He fully looked at Nico and realized the boy was shaking. Immediately, his attention shifted to the demigod. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

Nico shook his head. "I–I can't– there's death—a lot of it. I don't know who. It's all jumbled. But you– the probability– just–"

Leo took one of Nico's hands while placing the other on Nico's shoulder. "Listen, Ghost Boy. I'm coming back, okay? But I need to go in there. And I'll come back to you. I swear it on the Styx. One way or another, I'm coming back to you. Got it?"

Leo held Nico's gaze before pressing a kiss to the boy's forehead. Then, without a backward glance, he stood and set off at a run toward the building.

His legs carried him over the distance quickly and he passed a news van and several ambulances where familiar faces sat looking shell-shocked. His breath caught in his throat as he heard his name called.

"Leo!" A small figure ran toward him, soot covering his face. Before the demigod knew it, the kid's arms wrapped around him and sobs shook the boy's lithe frame.

"Sonny?"

The little boy kept hold of Leo and didn't answer.

"Why are you here?" A girl's voice spoke from just ahead of him and he looked up from where he rubbed Sonny's back. Brittany stood in front of him, her arm in a sling. Much like the young boy still hugging him, soot stained the girl's clothes. Clean tracks of skin on her face showed where her tears had fallen.

"Brittany? Are you okay? Where's everyone else?"

Brittany's eyes and voice were hollow as she answered, "Some made it out. Grace told me to get out before everything happened. She said something was wrong. But, I waited for her, and when she didn't come out for a while, I thought she was playing a trick on me. I was in the entry when it happened. The lightning just kept hitting us. I thought lightning never strikes the same place twice?"

Brittany stared at Leo as if she didn't really see him before continuing. "Viktor helped Sonny out and went back in. He keeps going in even though the paramedics told him he shouldn't." She finally seemed to see Leo as she looked at him in confusion. "Where are the firefighters? Shouldn't they be here? Or the police or something? Anyone?"

Leo gently disengaged Sonny from where the boy clung to him and knelt on the ground, addressing the children. "Where are your moms?"

Sonny shrugged but Brittany, with the hollow tone still apparent in her voice, said, "The paramedics put my mom in an ambulance. I don't know where they took her."

Wincing, Leo suggested, "Find Mrs. Gugaitis. I'm going to help Viktor. You guys-"

"Will you go find Miles? He hasn't come out yet. Him and Celia."

A sharp panic flashed through Leo and he stood again, pushing Sonny into Brittany's free arm. "Nico's back there. Go sit with him."

Without another word, Leo set off once more for the building. He ignored the called protests of "Hey! You can't go in there! Kid– get back here!" from one of the paramedics. Black smoke belched from the entrance of Dayspring, shattered windows giving more access to the toxic fumes. Paying no heed to any of it, Leo dashed into the building.

Sounds from outside the center faded into the background until the crackling of the fire swallowed it up. The heat seared and Leo's vision swam. He pulled his shirt up until it covered his mouth and nose and stepped further into the mess of a building. He took a tentative step toward the staircase leading up to the bedrooms, but a loud crack whipped through the air and a piece of the upstairs railing fell. A hand yanked the back of his shirt and pulled him away as the flaming wood landed where he had previously stood.

Rough hands turned him around and a filthy, harried-looking Viktor stood in front of him. His eyebrows drew upwards in surprise before dipping into a glare. "¿Por qué estás aquí?" His voice was angry and suspicious as he looked the demigod over.

"I thought you guys could use the help. Lay off, Viktor. We're wasting time. Sonny said Miles and Celia were still in here. Where are they?"

Viktor said. "Everything happened so fast. Are you sure they didn't make it out?"

But Leo shook his head. "No. I don't think they made it out yet. Where's Professor Blackburn?"

"Carried her out myself. She got hit in a bad way." Viktor looked to the side and let out a hacking cough.

"We need to hurry." Leo stared about him grimly. "Is there any chance they could have headed upstairs? To the bedrooms?"

Whatever Viktor said was lost to Leo as a chill of air caused the hair on his arms to rise. It brushed against his neck and slid down his right arm. A frigid cold settled into the fingers of his right hand. Glancing to the right, he noticed the hallway to the community kitchen and started down the path, Viktor calling after him before following the teenage boy.

"Not this way, hermano. No one left to save."

But Leo ignored him, the cold in his hand growing more intense as he walked. He scrambled over crumbled drywall and wood, falling into the open space of the community hall. A large pile of rubble littered the middle of the room– pounds and pounds of concrete and wood, wiring and roofing. He swallowed and looked about the room. He spied a pair of feet in the corner, body obscured by an overturned table.

Leo made to walk toward the figure, but Viktor's firm grip on his shoulder stopped him. He looked over to the old stuntman and saw him shake his head. "Grace's father. There's no helping him now."

Leo felt his stomach drop. "And Grace?"

"She's not over there. I don't know where she is." Viktor shrugged, a distressed look stealing over his face. "I don't think anyone left in this room needs our help. We should look somewhere else, Leo."

Leo let the older man pull at his shoulder until he was turned in the opposite direction, numbly placing one foot in front of another. They had almost reached the hall again when the cold rushed him. It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over his head. In the midst of a fire, everything became freezing. Leo came to a halt and turned swiftly on the spot, eyes narrowed as he looked about the room. There was nothing. So why–

There.

A small hand splayed on the floor across the room. Someone sat with their back to the rubble, hand thrown to the side without care. Leo pulled from Viktor's grasp and darted forward and around the pile.

His breath left him in a whoosh and he fell to the floor beside the child, who looked up at him with a tear-streaked face.

"Miles! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Leo reached for the boy and ran his hands over Miles' arms before going for his face, tilting it this way and that to assure himself that the boy was unharmed.

Miles stared at him blankly and Leo repeated his question.

"Are you hurt, Miles? Where's Celia?"

"We were standing there. Where the rocks are."

Leo glanced at the pile before quickly looking away, shuddering at the thought of what would have happened to the boy had he not gotten out of the path of the debris. "Let's get you out of here, Miles. Come on. Up you get."

The boy let himself be hauled gently to his feet and lifted into Leo's arms. Leo took several steps toward Viktor, who was staring at the pair in astonishment, before Miles seemed to come to his senses. He hit Leo's arms, over and over and over.

"Let me down! Let me down! I can't leave her!"

Leo stopped walking, struggling to hold on to the suddenly distraught boy who was still screaming. "No! I won't go. You can't make me!"

Viktor hurried over, holding his arms out for the boy. But Miles, sensing the older man behind him, pressed against Leo, his arms reaching toward the pile and tears flowing down his face. His voice broke as he begged Leo, "Please. Please, please, please. I can't leave. I can't leave her."

"Who, Miles? Who can't you leave?"

"Celia. She'll be all alone."

Leo's heart seemed to stop beating in his chest as Viktor swore.

"Celia? Celia's underneath that?"

Miles nodded, barely able to choke out words past his sobs. "Mrs. Gugaitis tried to push us out of the way. But Celia tripped." The boy looked at Leo, his eyes wild and feverish. "I couldn't move the rocks. They were too heavy."

Leo looked back at the pile of rubble, his heart sinking. There was no way anyone could have survived.

Leo firmly placed Miles in Viktor's grasp. "I'll get them, hermanito. Okay? I'll get them both."

Viktor stood and Miles wrapped his arms around the man's shoulders. Viktor nodded at Leo. "I'll come back to help as soon as he's safe. If it starts coming down, you get out. ¿Me entiendes?"

Miles spoke then his voice echoing with the same distant hollowness that had shadowed Brittany's. "You don't need to help Mrs. Gugaitis. She's dead."

Viktor swore softly in Spanish as Leo's stomach fell further than he thought possible. Wretched disbelief and choking grief crawled up his throat and his eyes swam. But they couldn't waste any more time.

"A-alright, Miles. I'll help who I can, yeah?"

Miles nodded wearily. Leo turned, not watching as the pair made their way from the burning building.

Leo approached the pile of rubble, and as he moved the crumbling building remnants behind him, he felt the smoke easing its way down his throat and settling into his lungs. He hacked and coughed; but still, he kept working.

Until he noticed the hand.

He hadn't uncovered it– only shifted the rock so the fingers were visible from his position. Long fingers gnarled with age curled inward, dust and blood settling across the skin. With growing unease and a decided numbness taking hold of him, Leo worked at a swift pace.

Grab the rock. Place it behind. Grab the rock. Place it behind. Grab the–

A face lay pillowed on an arm, bowed inward as if looking down. Blood spattered her smashed glasses, and the side of her head caved in from a large wedge of concrete from one of the upper floors. The thin necklace Mrs. Gugaitis had played with whenever she was engrossed in conversation splayed daintily across her throat.

Leo felt a sob rip from him; but, he made his hands move.

Grab the rock. Place it behind. Grab the rock. Place it–

A pink bow secured the dusty end of a single braided plait. Leo froze before removing the debris more earnestly, his heart hovering in his throat, ready for his world to come crashing down.

Miles would know. Miles would have told me if Celia...if she was– if–

Leo couldn't bear to finish the thought. His hands worked steadily, moving the scrap and wreckage even as more fell around him.

Where's Viktor? He should have been back by now. I don't know what to do. I need to move faster but-

At last, one of the last pieces of rubble came free and Celia's frame emerged from the debris. She lay with her eyes closed, nestled gently against Mrs. Gugaitis whose body had shielded the young girl from the worst of the collapse. With all the dread in the world, Leo reached forward with shaking fingers. He placed them gently against the little girl's throat, pushing until his fore- and middle-fingers held firm against Celia's artery.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

A soft cry escaped Leo's lips, and for just a moment, he sagged against the concrete ruins, one hand covering his face as if it would help to hold in the grief and relief. It was short-lived, though, as the ceiling above and to Leo's right gave a tremendous groan and rained down upon the floor. Placing a hand behind the girl's head, he lightly tapped her cheek.

"Celia. Celita. It's time to wake up. Come on. Wake up, Celita. Wake up."

The young girl murmured and her eyes fluttered. Ignoring the protests from his back and arm muscles– and the scattered memories of warnings not to move a person with possible neck injuries–, Leo thrust his arms beneath Celia's neck and knees and stood with a grunt of effort. Fatigue had begun to seep into his bones and the rapidly worsening air made his lungs scream with pain.

He moved swiftly to the hallway entrance, hissing in pain when he stumbled over the wreckage on the ground partially blocking the room. Leo spied the exit and made a beeline toward it, desperate for a breath of fresh air and water. But, as he approached the entrance, the fire flared in an explosive whoosh. The entryway was obscured and Leo stepped back several paces, turning so Celia was shielded from the worst of it. More smoke invaded Leo's lungs and he coughed, feeling as though his throat would rip open from the force. Dizzying nausea threatened to expel the contents from his stomach.

Celia lay still and quiet in his arms.

Think, Leo. Think. Where is there outdoor access?

The garden. Leo turned and walked back to the community hall. He avoided looking at the unmoving body of Mrs. Gugaitis and skirted the growing piles of debris, eyeing the ceiling with distrust as the upstairs floor threatened to wholly fall. Finally, he crossed to the kitchen, making his way to the back door. He passed the countertop where he had helped the kind older woman put away leftovers just the other day.

Don't think about it. Don't think about it! Get out now. You can fall apart later.

A small moan made Leo look down. Celia's eyes opened, a glassy haze casting a shadow over her uneven irises. Leo would be surprised if she didn't have a concussion.

"Miles?" Celia's voice was thick with confusion.

Leo smiled softly before quickly looking up and toward the door to the garden, answering the girl's question as he began to cross to the hallway. Where is Viktor?

"Miles is already outside, Celita. We just had to get you. He didn't want you to be alone. You've got one awesome big brother right there."

"Oh."

Leo crossed to the door and shifted Celia in his arms. He held a hand out to the door, feeling for heat in the patio beyond. But he felt nothing. He reached for the handle when Celia spoke, alarm plain in her voice.

"Stop!"

Leo froze and whirled, his eyes trying to find the source of whatever was causing the girl to panic. "What is it, Celita? What do you see?"

When Celia didn't respond, Leo looked down. The girl stared at a spot near the kitchen counter.

He looked. There was nothing but the burning fire which had completely engulfed the staircase.

"Celia, what-"

"He says you can't leave. His daughter is still upstairs."

Leo shook his head and coughed, the action sending a jarring pain through his throat. He rasped, "What are you talking about, Celia. There's no one there. You hit your head and–"

"Grace is upstairs. He said so. You have to help her."

Once again, Leo looked in the direction of where Celia was fixated. But there was nothing. "Celia, I have to get you out of here. I can come back and–"

"It will be too late."

Leo hesitated.

Celia shifted her attention to the son of Hephaestus, a look of surprising calm flowing across her face. "I can walk for a little bit. They said they'd help me around outside to the entrance."

Leo swallowed heavily. "Who's going to help you, Celita? There's no one else here."

Celia looked up at him with her huge eyes and said plainly, "Mrs. Gugaitis and Grace's daddy."

And it clicked. Celia was the daughter of Melinoe. And Grace's father and Mrs. Gugaitis were both dead. Leo felt a chill ghost across his skin and he shivered. But, coming to a decision, Leo nodded.

He gently lowered Celia to the ground, waiting with an arm outstretched to steady the girl as she stood swaying slightly on the spot. Then, assured she wouldn't collapse, he removed his hand and watched as Celia smiled at unseen faces and reached out to take their hands.

She walked toward the door. Leo watched her for a moment as the door opened and she stepped through, never once touching the handle.

Taking a deep breath and telling himself he would think everything over later, Leo turned and made his way back through the community hall for what he hoped was close to the last time. His traitorous head turned and he glimpsed Mrs. Gugaitis' body before whipping his head to look ahead– only ahead.

There in the center of that silence was not eternity but the death of time and a loneliness so profound the word itself had no meaning. - Author: Toni Morrison