The first thing I was aware of, when I came to my senses was that the air was unbreathable. Black, cloying smoke hung thickly in the air, filling my lungs, my nose, my mouth. I covered my face with my shirt, coughing and retching, trying to drag in a ragged breath of clean air that wasn’t there. I rolled onto my side and from there onto my hands and knees, keeping as low below the smoke as I possibly could. My ears were ringing from the blast, and for a while I crouched unmoving, trying to shake the deafness from my ears as I looked around. Then my world turned over again.
Half the school was gone, blown to smithereens, as if it had never stood there in the first place. A blackened skeleton remained of the structure, its charred bones pointing at the sky like accusing fingers. Thick, choking clouds of fiery ash billowed upward, twisting and turning like a dark deadly serpent, clogging the air with its poisonous gases.
I stared down at my shaking hands in the black ash and saw with wonder that they were scratched and bloody. Then I looked ahead of me and saw much worse. Bodies, strewn like rubbish, scattered over the ground in various poses of death, their lives extinguished in the blink of an eye.
For a long, horrible moment, I was incapacitated with fear, before panic rose up, slapping me hard. My senses reeled and protested, snapping me out of my stupor.
I started to crawl forward then stopped, jolting with horror as my hands touched something fleshy and wet. Recoiling, I changed directions without looking down, desperately seeking a way out of the smoke walling me in. But, the smoke seemed to me a living thing, creeping closer, burning my skin, reaching down deep into my lungs. I was wheezing, every breath an effort as I searched for a pocket of clean air. The smell was permeating; a toxic aroma mixed with blood and the stench of death that I felt I would never be able to get off my body.
My gaze fell over the body nearest to me, desperate to find life in the isolating terror. It seemed largely unharmed, lying prone on its back, head turned away from me. He must be unconscious, I thought sensibly through my terror, there’s not enough blood.
As my eyes moved over the body my dread increased, my stomach clutching and cramping, familiarity of the clothes registering somewhere in the back of my numbed mind. My eyes travelled reluctantly, fearfully to the face, as I reached out and carefully rolled the head towards me. It was Chaz. At first, I just crouched there, frozen on my hands and knees in disbelief.
“This is not real,” I said to myself. “I am not really here.” But I was there, and it was as real as any other moment of my life. My trembling fingers moved to where the pulse should have been in numbed instinct, and then rested there frozen as comprehension hit me. My best friend was dead, his glassy eyes lifeless, staring through me to the next world, or at nothing at all. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out, apart from a horrible choking sound that nobody could hear above the roar of flames. A siren somewhere began to wail its warning. Too late. Far too late.
My hands reached for Chaz, but fluttered to a stop half way. Get out of here, my brain warned logically, and I obeyed, self-preservation kicking in, overriding the soul-wrenching distress. There was nothing I could do for Chaz, no time to weep over his body. I was going to die as well if I didn’t get out this carnage immediately. I stopped observing, and began thinking again. Adrenaline raced through my veins, my brain surged with power. The rage built inside me until it exploded outwards.
The smoke recoiled, pushed back as I cleared a path in front of me. Clambering shakily to my feet, I began to stumble along, my feet tripping over bits of building and bodies as I moved as fast as I could, away from the school. A high-pitched wail to my left, made me pause, my heart beating hard against my chest as I tried to locate the sound. Then I saw her.
Meela, barely recognizable, was sitting next to another body, staring at me in shock through the ashes and smoke. Her clothes were torn to shreds, her face bloody, and she was clutching the hand of a body. I ducked low and made for her, relief fleeting as I reached her and held out my hand.
“Come with me now,” I commanded, no time for emotion.
“I won’t leave him!” she shrieked, her face contorting with terror. Tears streamed down her blackened face, her features twisted in desperation. Crouching down, I put my fingers to Dash’s throat, waiting precious seconds as I held Meela’s frantic gaze and my breath at the same time. A beat, a struggling pulse, bumped pitifully under my fingers.
“He’s alive,” I gasped. “Meela get up!” Meela obeyed in shock, staggering to her feet, looking to me for direction. “Stay behind me, I’m going to lift him,” I said, not taking my eyes off Dash. I let my powers take over everything, my need for air, my need to grieve. Lifting Dash’s limp body with ease, I held him aloft and began pushing him through the air while Meela followed at my heels, clutching the back of my shirt like it was her lifeline.
I headed in the direction of where I thought the pod park was. If there was anything left, there was a chance I could get us away from here. To where, I didn’t know. I didn’t know what there was left to go to.
A blackened figure burst out of the ashes, running towards us at full speed. My fear froze me in my tracks, before changing to joy.
“Jonaz!” I felt so shaky I nearly dropped Dash. Jonaz caught him out of the air, throwing him unceremoniously over his shoulder.
“Thank the realms, Twell,” he choked out, looking wildly at me. He reached out, touching my face as if he were making sure I was really before him. Then, he turned, running back the way he’d come, leading the way. This time I was happy for him to lead, he was my own lifeline, and I trusted his instincts as much as my own as he led us out of the smoke and ruins, down to the pod park.
A shadow fell over us, so big it blocked out the sun. I looked up in terror, expecting the worst. A Comian army craft, large enough to fit a few hundred passengers, moved over us before descending to the ground, where the pod park had been. Now there was blackened, jagged ground, ripped up and turned over as if it had been ploughed and reaped, twisted bits of aircraft scattered far and wide. Oh no, my pod! I raged irrationally, before the doors of the craft opened. The army streamed out, like dozens of black beetles, scuttling along the ground towards us. One of the officers took Dash from Jonaz’s arms. Others took our arms, dragging us towards the craft, shouting at us to move. Meela twisted back to me, her eyes wide with fright.
“Twell, what’s going on?” she begged me.” Where are they taking us?” I stared wordlessly back, unable to reassure her because I had no idea. As they pushed her towards the craft, I twisted violently in the soldier’s grasp.
“Let go!” I screamed. “We have to go back!” Yanking my arm, I pulled loose and fled back towards the school, ignoring the shouts to stop. Then Jonaz was at my side, not stopping me, but running with me. We raced back into the smoke, and I threw my powers outwards, smoke and flames dancing back in response. We searched for signs of life, as the officers caught up with us, the fires licking along the ground, already beginning to consume the dead.
The officers spread out, lifting limbs, checking for life, moving on when there was none. Some raced past us, clutching charred and lifeless figures. Others bore students whose bloodied faces and hysterical screams indicated their terror and incomprehension at what was happening. If I knew them, there was no way of knowing, fear and pain contorting their features unrecognizable.
“There!” Jonaz shouted. I looked in the direction he was pointing, and there was Mira, oblivious to the flames surrounding her, prostrate over Chaz’s body. Her face buried in his chest, a long drawn out wail ripped from her body as she sobbed and convulsed over him, her hands clutching and twisting his tattered shirt. Jonaz went to her and tried pulling her gently off his body. She screeched, kicking out at him, clutching Chaz tighter. My heart constricted, the lump of ash in my throat growing bigger. My eyes burned as I watched him struggle with her. She fought back, all the while still trying to hold onto Chaz.
The flames crackled closer, the heat becoming unbearable. Jonaz glanced back, his expression anguished, as if asking my permission for what he needed to do. I nodded numbly, again the observer. Grief was right behind me, its hands around my ribs, working icy fingers into my heart. I knew I didn’t have much longer before I’d fall apart.
Jonaz grabbed Mira around the waist with one arm and took both her wrists in the other hand. She screamed in a sudden short burst of pain, just long enough for her to let Chaz go. Then Jonaz had her bundled into his arms, running back to me as she clawed at his face, pounding his chest without strength as her face crumpled in hopelessness and defeat.
I couldn’t bear to look at her, to see the hideous, undeniable truth in her expression. Tears burned my eyes, and I turned away, looking for someone else, anyone else who could be saved from this nightmare. But there was nothing left to save. The soldiers scooped up any remaining life, and the rest began to burn, the smell of melting flesh tainting us forever.
Brazin materialized in front of me so abruptly I smacked straight into him. I looked bleakly up into his eyes, surprised to see relief etched over his hardened features.
“We need to go NOW!” he roared over the flames. I didn’t argue. The flames towered over us, fear re-awakening as we ducked and wove through the wreckage, making our way back to the craft. The wounded were lined up neatly on the ground, the soldiers loading them one by one into the craft. Students and teachers who could walk moved as if in a trance, allowing the soldiers to control them. I stumbled down the line of prostrate figures, my heart thudding with dread. I was too scared to look at any more victims, afraid of what I might find.
A figure rose up suddenly, blocking my way. It stared at me, bloody faced and wild eyed.
“Ms. Zarian?” I gasped. Her hair stood up in a sooty shock, her impeccable appearance blown away along with her controlled demeanour.
“Twell, you see? You see why your people need you?” Her voice wobbled in wonder, as if she couldn’t quite believe the ghastly truth of her own words. Her eyes rolled around, taking in the chaos in a daze. Then she swayed and lurched forward, grabbing onto my arms.
“You said the Governing Body was watching!” I accused as I wrenched away from her, “But they were watching the wrong way! This might not have happened if you all weren’t so busy watching and controlling us!”
“But Twell, we’re only trying to protect you,” her voice wavered in shock at my rage, but she was beyond reprimanding me, as the cries of the wounded pressed in on us, emphasising my point with their pain.
“Well you’ve failed,” I spat. “How could you all let this happen?” My voice screeched shrilly, higher than the screams of the wounded. Zarian staggered back as if I’d struck her. She eyed me fearfully, as if it was I who was the enemy, before backing away. I turned my back on her in disgust and began to stumble blindly down the lines of injured moaning victims. Comians draped themselves over various bodies, begging and pleading with them not to die. Every face said the same thing. What has happened to us? Why was there no warning? Jonaz handed Mira to a soldier, who bore her away, shrieking, her cries chilling me to the bone.
“Twell!” Her flaming, red hair stood out in the ash and smoke as she stood forlornly amidst the bodies, eyes wide with fear. Sazika. “Marz....is...dead.” Her voice was a bare whisper of disbelief. “I tried to help him, but...but...” Her hands pressed over her mouth as if to stop the awful words from tumbling out. Jonaz stiffened beside me, his face twisting with pain, while my stomach lurched over and over, the grief pushing insistently harder as I fought to contain it.
“Have you seen the others?” he asked, his voice fierce with worry.
“Yes, Stelli and Mekai are over there.” She pointed behind us. Turning around, I saw them. Mekai’s face was numb with shock, but he was seemingly unharmed. It was Stelli who captured my attention. Moving with purpose from one hysterical student to the next, she captured their frightened eyes, willing them to calm down. I watched as the terror subsided from their faces and subdued, they gazed trustfully back at Stelli. She calmly handed them over to the soldiers who led them into the craft. In that moment, she was truly my hero.
Jonaz left my side and began moving urgently among the wounded. I stood there, watching uselessly as he bent his face down close to speak to the ones who were conscious. His hands moved rapidly over torn flesh and exposed bone, pressing back the blood, but not the screams of agony, as he worked his powers.
Brazin appeared again, beckoning us to follow, and we obeyed silently. There was nothing we could say, nothing that would help or console in the slightest. Images painted a picture of war for us that we had once visualized behind the safety of our school desks. Now we had enough visuals to haunt us for life. Words were useless, empty against the fullness of reality.
Another much smaller craft landed and Brazin stood at the steps, pushing us all up into the belly of the pod while his eyes scanned the skies apprehensively. Inside, I found the other trainers, miraculously all unharmed, staring soberly at us as we gazed wordlessly back. Mira was huddled in a seat, her face blank, eyes staring but unseeing. Her face was red and swollen from crying. I couldn’t cry, or lose hold of myself. Not yet. It seemed so desperately important right now not to think of him, and her face was a gut-wrenching reminder, a window into my own soul where I couldn’t allow myself to look. I turned away from her again, unable to comfort her.
“Where are we going?” Jonaz demanded impatiently. “I need to stay here and help the wounded.”
“To the underground shelters in the north,” Brazin replied shortly, coming in behind us. “The wounded will be transported shortly, and you can help them there.”
“Why not right now?” Jonaz’s voice rose in frustration.
“Because we’ll all be safer there.” I didn’t think there was any place I’d ever feel safe again. I realized Stelli wasn’t on board; it was just our pitiful little group, only five of us now, as if we were somehow worth separating into our own aircraft.
“What about Stelli?” I asked. Surely, she’d be forced to fight now.
“She’s requested to go with the regular citizens to help with Panic Control,” said Brazin. “A worthy and practical use for her skills.” I felt both proud of her for finding her purpose and relieved our leaders deemed it acceptable.
“Will the whole city be evacuated?” Sazika said, thinking of her family I assumed. Suddenly I thought of Shay, my stomach lurching with fresh panic. Looking down at my wristband I saw that the screen was cracked, but working, still tying me to our leaders. The ones who failed to warn us this was coming. I sent her a message, fervently hoping she was still capable of receiving it.
“Yes, the whole city,” Brazin replied once he’d entered the craft and secured the door. The moment he pulled it closed, we were moving. An unseen pilot bore us upwards, not waiting for us to sit down, whisking us away from the smouldering remains of our school. Now it was a bombsite, a graveyard for my friends.
“Are you hurt, Twell?” Jonaz pulled me to a seat and I sat numbly as he knelt at my side, allowing his hands to brush over me, checking for wounds as I stared out the window. His hands were stained with blood, but they were warm and gentle. When he concluded I was mostly unharmed, removing his hands, I shivered suddenly, feeling the loss. A dark void of despair was opening before me, and I was teetering precariously on the edge.
“What...just happened?” Sazika whispered, breaking the silence. She stared accusingly at Brazin, as if he’d been holding out on us.
“Solar missile,” Brazin said. “One for each city.”
“Why?” Mekai’s voice brimmed with the rage. I continued to look out the window, disconnected as I watched Caran whip by below us. I saw the plume of smoke in the distance, clogging the sky with deadly, polluting gases.
“It was a warning to share our water, or face the consequences,” Brazin replied.
Something in his tone made me look up. The expression on his face was not calm and assured as I was used to seeing it, but ridged with outrage, his fists clenched so tightly that my heart skipped with new trepidation.
“You will never be ready to fight,” Brazin’s eyes took all of us in. “There is nothing we can really do to prepare you for what it is like. The Governing Body can make you fight, regardless of how you feel. But it’s how you feel that could decide whether you live or die. My question is, are you all willing?” That he would even ask took me by surprise, and I jerked back in my seat, anger flaring back up inside me as my spirit reignited. I don’t know if it was the warmth of Jonaz’s hand seizing mine that finally thawed me out, or Brazin’s words, but I was no longer cold. I trembled with rage, and it filled me with a different kind of fire than the one that burned below us.
My jaw shook from clenching my teeth; my nails dug into my palms so hard they cut into my skin. Anger. A pure white-hot anger overpowered my fear, telling me that without a doubt, I could fight. I would fight them if it meant keeping them away from any more of the people I loved. There would be time later to grieve; now was the time for war.
“I’m willing.” My voice was loud, certain in my sense of purpose. Fiery determination rippled through my blood as one by one I heard the voices of the others around me confirming Brazin with the same answer. Yes. We would all fight. I knew it was more than courage and loyalty convicting us. It was love. It was the only thing that could drive me to risk my own life, to hurt another person, or maybe even to kill. But I didn’t want to think of that right now. Knowing I would fight was big enough. I felt my childhood falling away, left behind in the smouldering embers of my school, as we headed towards an uncertain future.