Chapter 13 – Breaking Points (Ji-woo)

Ji-woo closed the door to the barracks quietly, making sure the lock clicked shut behind her. Only then did she let her shoulders slump as she let out a sigh.

Mai had finally passed out after almost ten minutes of crying, which wasn’t particularly surprising. No, the part that worried Ji-woo was how quiet the girl had been through the whole thing. Other than sniffling, Mai hadn’t let out a single sound as she started shaking, tears spilling from her eyes uncontrollably. It was almost as if Mai had been more scared of letting people see her cry than what had caused the tears in the first place.

If that wasn’t concerning enough, then how she reacted to Ji-woo trying to comfort her certainly was. It was a miracle that Ji-woo had managed to get Mai’s permission to bandage the girl’s calf afterwards.

Ji-woo shook her head. It wasn’t incredibly surprising the poor girl had broken down, and in fact it was probably a good sign that she was processing her ordeal. Still, the way she had fallen apart had set off the alarm bells that had been steadily building in Ji-woo’s head as she spent more time with the girl. Ji-woo desperately hoped she was wrong, that she was jumping at shadows and what she was seeing was just Mai processing the traumatic experiences she must have faced to survive.

But for some reason, Ji-woo couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that, even if she had nothing but her gut and a few odd observations about her behavior and mannerisms. Even then, it wasn’t like Ji-woo had any idea what the problem could be. She could make any number of guesses, but in the end, she just didn’t have enough information.

With another sigh, Ji-woo turned and went to the command center. It wasn’t a long walk, but it did give her a few moments to get her thoughts straightened out. As she slid her access card across the room’s security console, she wondered if maybe the person inside would have any insights.

Sergeant Markus O’Malley was already in the room, waiting for her. The command center was a vaguely rectangular room with the far wall occupied by a desk facing dozens of computer screens while a long conference table and chairs lined the length leading up it. Markus sat in front of the consoles at the far end, typing on a keyboard while frowning at one of the screens, and he looked over his shoulder to give Ji-woo a small nod as she entered. For her part, she didn’t waste any time pulling one of the conference table chairs out and throwing herself into it.

Markus plucked at some keys for a bit longer, tapped one of the screens, then let out a disgusted sigh before he slowly spun the chair around to look at Ji-woo. Seeing her slouching against the chair with her eyes closed, he gave a wince of sympathy.

“That bad?” his granite and gravel voice rasped.

“Not… exactly,” Ji-woo sighed, rubbing at her face. “Though I did manage to make her cry, so… go me, I guess.”

“There’s a reason part of the instructions for survivor intake is to get an emotional reaction,” Markus shrugged with a lopsided smile. “Most people just aren’t built for life or death situations, and nobody is ever really ready for one. Even though it feels like crap, getting them to cry and at least open up that much is a good thing. Doesn’t feel great, but don’t go beating yourself up about it.”

“I know,” Ji-woo groaned, frustration creeping into her voice. “But it’s not that part that worries me.”

Markus frowned and leaned back in his chair. Ji-woo took the moment to gather her thoughts, then turned to face her sergeant.

“Mai held herself together the entire time, except for the very end. It was only after I told her how amazing it was that she managed to make it here, let alone do it with a little kid, she broke down. What gets me worried is that the second she started crying, she also started apologizing to me over and over again. Then when I reached out to hug her, she flinched. Then she just kept saying ‘sorry’ over and over again.”

Markus looked thoughtful for a moment, scratching at his chin.

“You think she’s just shying away from physical contact after… well, if the boy she brought back is to be believed, going toe-to-toe with an Anathema with just an axe?”

“I…” Ji-woo started but bit back her words as she forced herself to consider the possibility.

It was possible, she supposed, and even seemed like the most likely explanation. But that didn’t explain all the other little things nagging at Ji-woo. Like how stapling and later bandaging Mai’s leg had made her realize just how thin and small the girl was. Or the mannerisms Mai displayed when interacting with people, always bowing her head to look at the floor and apologizing at the slightest mistake. Then there was the outright fear that had flashed through her when Ji-woo asked if she could see her bruises. Even when Ji-woo had first seen her, the girl had looked ready to run or fight at the slightest provocation, like she was some sort of cornered animal.

But most of that could be explained by the fact Mai had just been through a traumatic experience and was probably in shock. She had every reason to be on a hair trigger, and it was no surprise how defensive and quiet she was, especially if she really did come face to face with an Anathema.

And yet… Ji-woo couldn’t shake that there was something more, that every little interaction had just been the slightest bit… off.

“I don’t know, Markus,” she finally shook her head. “I just don’t know… but, I did give her my card.”

Markus looked up sharply at that, his eyes narrowing. Markus was one of the few people Ji-woo could count on to get the significance of that. Officers usually carried courtesy cards with their name and their precinct’s number on them, but Ji-woo also carried cards with her own personal phone number. It was something she learned from Markus, and like him, she only ever gave that card out to people she would drop everything to help. For anything else, she gave out the precinct’s general card.

In a way, it was part of her code, that if she was going to personally offer her help, she really was going to commit to it. Maybe it was idealistic and naive, or even unrealistic, but of the other six times Ji-woo had given her card out, she had never come to regret the fact that she had tried to offer help.

And Ji-woo had a feeling that one way or another, Mai needed all the help she could get.

The silence in the conference room stretched on for a moment before Markus finally gave Ji-woo a steady nod.

“Well, then you’ve done all you can, and she’s in the best of hands if she ever does need somebody.”

Ji-woo flashed him a grateful smile even as her cheeks colored slightly. Her former training officer always seemed to know the right thing to say, and Ji-woo felt her worries losing their edge.

For a while, neither of them spoke, and Ji-woo found herself glancing at the various computer screens as tension worried its way between her bones. She knew what she wanted to ask, but if Markus hadn’t said anything yet, she was afraid to get a confirmation to the answers she thought she already knew.

“How about on your end?” Ji-woo finally asked, her voice subdued. “Have we gotten anything back?”

“No,” Markus growled. “And Jace is screaming at me to go interrogate the girl about what’s going on outside.”

Ji-woo bristled, and her normally warm, chocolate eyes hardened in an instant. It was just their luck that one of the owners of the mall had happened to be on the first floor when the alarms went off. Ever since the Usurpation started, Jace had been nothing but an absolute nightmare, acting as if he had some sort of authority in the shelter to make decisions, and he’d tried to insert himself into every situation he possibly could.

“Naturally, I politely explained to him that the girl wouldn’t have come from the basement level where Price’s team went considering it only has offices and maintenance rooms. Which is something he should know considering he owns the place.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Ji-woo’s eyes softened as she chuckled at Markus’s exasperated expression.

“Other than that bit of fun,” Markus crossed his arms. “I’ve only really had a chance to hear from Milly about what that boy’s said so far.”

His expression darkened like a thundercloud, and Ji-woo felt herself almost snap to attention. It was rare for something to truly make Markus angry, meaning whatever he had learned was something serious.

“Apparently,” he all but growled. “The boy wandered off from his family and was alone when the alarms went off. That was when the girl came to find him, having encountered his sister. Naturally, that was when the power went out and everything went to hell.”

Markus gave Ji-woo a look, almost like he was considering his next words carefully.

“His very expressive storytelling muddles the next part, but it sounds like the girl fought off some kind of giant dog with the axe she was carrying before the two of them snuck the rest of the way to the shelter.”

Ji-woo nodded. That much made sense. Still, even if they were taking their time to sneak as quietly as possible, it was weird that it had taken them almost a full hour to make it to their shelter. Though, that didn’t take into account how scared Brian must have been and how carefully Mai must have had to handle him. The very expensive toy he’d been holding hadn’t escaped Ji-woo’s notice, or probably the other officers’ for that matter, but she was confident none of them were ever going to bring it up. It probably wouldn’t even get mentioned in any of the official reports for that matter, because if taking the thing is what it took to help keep the boy from panicking, nobody could fault Mai for-

“So they did,” Markus interrupted, his voice devoid of emotion. “They snuck the rest of the way to the shelter. On the third floor.”