Ash and Cinder

18| Metal Skeletons

The Compound is a blackened shell. The fence, with its rows of chain-link laced with barbed wire, still stands. There are three man-sized holes ripped through the chain-link. The inner buildings are husks, charred cement walls and twisted, half-melted metal skeletons are all that remains. The outer buildings faired better, one storage house is completely untouched save for a spray of bullet holes. What happened that night? Who were the Whitecoats fighting?

The infirmary looks toasted. Black crawls up the walls, the right branch is warped and buckling. I recall the flames bursting from the windows and can only hope that the damage inside isn't too extensive.

"You guys should check out the storage buildings, see if there's stuff we can use. I'm going to check out the infirmary."

"Be back here in an hour?" Sky suggests. He's jittering, bouncing from foot to foot nervously. His eyes won't stop moving. With the packs hidden back at the cave, there's nothing to weigh him down or keep him from bolting up a tree at the faintest noise. Delilah is fairing better, or at least she's hiding her fear better.

The three of us split. Sky darts off to the farthest of the outlying buildings, Delilah heads for a nearer one, and I pick my way through the rubble to the infirmary.

The front doors are blocked by debris. The glass is wavy and coated in thick ash. It's not much of a problem, but it would have been nice if the wheel tracks were functional. I throw a cursory glance around me. Something about this place makes me feel watched. Someone else might call it paranoia, but I am less optimistic than that.

"Trick." Elle's head rolls, her eyes flutter. My heart jumps to my throat.

"Elle, hey." I kneel in the ash and prop her on my knee. "Elle, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

Her eyes open slow, she winces at the light. It takes her a full twelve seconds to lose the unfocused glaze, and the whites of her eyes are dark and bloodshot. She mumbles something, like thick word soup leaking out the corner of her mouth.

I look around for a crevice that's not layered in ash and find a place on the ground that has been mostly shielded by a large chunk of displaced concrete. I lay Elle there, helping her lean upright against the stone. She struggles to keep her head from sagging. "Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, mirame, tell me how you feel."

"They let you come today," she whispers, doing her best to smile. "I didn't think they would." Her skin bleeds ashes from her scalp, her arms look like the rubble they're propped on.

"What?"

Instead of answering, she lifts her arm to examine it and frowns at the gritty pattern.

"My head hurts," she says, letting her arm drop.

"I know, stay here. I have to go open the doors, then we can get your medicine." I give her a quick pat on the knee and jump to my feet. She's awake, it should relieve me, but instead I feel antsier. I don't think she knows where we are.

Walking back, I notice that the dust is lighter in areas, as if it's been disturbed, especially around the melted door. Clouds of ashy dust settle into the spots where I've walked, the thick motes falling back into place. I check behind me, tracing the path I made. The pattern there is strikingly similar to the one around the door. My skin itches, I want to shake out of it, like I would if this were a fight. But I need to stay entirely me, I need to be able to recognize the medications once I'm inside and Robo-Trick can't do that. Besides, I pinch the back of my hand and flex my fingers a couple times, I can't be around Elle like that. I don't trust myself.

A few mounds of drywall and brick from the upper level are collected inconveniently against the doors. I prod one pile with my toe, but it refuses to budge. I nudge until the jostling shakes loose a couple bits, but the rest stays put. On closer examination, I discover that the tangled mess of wall is fused to the warped glass. Bubbles of the once-clear window must have oozed over the bundle of wall chunks and solidified. Again, not a problem, but it would be nice if things weren't as difficult as they could possibly be for once.