Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [135]
If I’d had a stomach, it would probably have been churning from the lack of knowledge.
“They’ve got the situation under control here,” Mareeza said. “Let’s go check on your apartment.”
Akree nodded toward Mareeza, then me. “You want another set of hands? I’m thinking the kelo game is off tonight.”
Mareeza and I both looked back at the stage. Fortunately, the equipment had been provided by the organizers, because at that moment it all seemed very frivolous. People in the city were homeless and dying. What place did we have worrying about some easily-replaceable musical equipment?
Mareeza apparently had the same thought, as she turned her attention back to Torelius. “Yes, please. I have a feeling we’re all going to be needed by the time this is over.”
When we got to Akree’s transport, Mareeza realized that it was large enough to hold far more than the three of us. She went back to the remains of the capital building, and gathered three more people from the smattering of volunteers who hadn’t yet moved on to another bombing site.
When she brought them back, I was surprised to see that Razmad was in the group. With him were two women that I couldn’t recall meeting. They both looked as though they had no idea what was happening to them, but there was a resolution in their eyes that said they knew the fact that they were still able to move meant they had to help others somehow.
The six of us piled into Akree’s transport, and worked our way through the streets toward Dockland. When we finally reached the neighborhood, I couldn’t believe the sight. It looked as though a missile had somehow skidded through three other apartment buildings before hitting mine and shattered it as though it were made of nothing but iso-linear rods.
“Oh, Aeson,” Mareeza whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
The sight of my home in shambles didn’t affect me nearly as much as the sight of the other homes in the area still smoldering. One particularly smoky pile of rubble had four people on top of it, digging through in a valiant effort to find something-presumably survivors. “My interests are secondary right now, Mareeza. These people need help.”
Akree put a hand on my arm. “They’re going to get it,” he said. “Come on.”
Once Akree parked the transport, we all got out and tried to determine a good place to begin. I pointed toward another pile of rubble, one that only had a single person sifting through it. “A family of six lived there. Judging by the time the missiles hit the capital building, at least two of the children were home from school.”
Razmad took the two women and headed off in that direction. “We’ll call you if we find anything,” he yelled back.
Mareeza made a small, surprised sound. “Who knew he had a heart after all?”
“Times like this either bring out the best in us, or the worst,” Akree said. “Come on. Let’s get to your building.”
We started toward the pile of rubble that had once been my building. I briefly wondered where Darek was. Fortunately, he lived on the other side of town. If the traffic had been half as interesting as it had been getting there from the capital, it was no wonder he hadn’t arrived yet.
While we helped the half-dozen people who were already digging through the rubble, I quickly tried to estimate how many residents might have been inside when the missile struck. None of those outside looked familiar, but considering the size of the building, I couldn’t have known everyone who lived there. A young newlywed couple had just moved in on the first floor; while an older woman lived alone on the third floor. There were at least five other couples that I could remember, none of whom had children. The building was capable of holding around sixty people or more. I suspect only Darek knew everyone who lived there.
There had