Chapter Sixty-Four – Aftermath, but we’re Really Bad at Math

Chapter Sixty-Four – Aftermath, but we’re Really Bad at Math

“When the first incursions occurred, humanity as a whole didn’t know how to respond to them. They were a threat unlike any other.

Often, that meant that the worst of the disaster wasn’t created by the aliens, but by humanity itself.”

–Excerpt from A History of Disaster, 2047

***

“Okay, press here,” I said, gesturing at a point on the dude’s leg.

He hissed as he put pressure on his wound, but it helped, keeping one of my hands free so that I could tug his leg up and wrap the bandage around it again.

I had plenty of first aid stuff, but they were a bit pricey. Good bandages though? With some sort of magic bullshit fast-healing stuff in them? Yeah, one point for a roll that had an adhesive strip on the ends and that would contract and breathe as needed.

“There,” I said as I pressed the strip into the bandage. The edges flashed green and the entire bit of cloth tightened a little. “I’d kiss it better, but you’re not my type.”

“Thanks,” he said.

I shifted back out of the car, ignoring all the glass crunching below me as I backed out, then I gave him a hand to get out himself. He still hung onto his gun, which was great. It might come in handy.

“Let’s get you inside,” I said as I looked around. None of the cars around us had windows, and they were all turned an ugly grey-ish brown by the blast of dirt and ash.

Speaking of ash, there was a faint rain coming down from above. Too grey to be snow.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Some fuckwit didn’t learn their lesson about blast radiuses, I think,” I said. “Just hope this shit’s not radioactive.”

It is not. The HVW that struck nearby was an iridium rod. It is non-radioactive.

“Oh, so it’s not fallout?” I asked.

It’s fallout from the explosion, but it is not radioactive fallout. No more than any amount of soil kicked up would have, at least.

“That’s good, right?” the guy asked.

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s get you inside, you can have a sit with your family.”

The arena was fucked. The lobby was fine. A bit dusty, and some of the posters had been ripped off the walls, but nothing a janitor couldn’t fix. The rest of it though? The tin roof had been peeled back like a sardine can, exposing the hockey rink and letting in plenty of dust and crap.

Dust had made it all the way into the corridors leading to the shelter. The doors were shut when we arrived. Couldn’t blame them, I’d have closed them on sensing the blast too.

I had to knock hard to get people to respond. Then I was practically shoved aside as the man that had asked me about his son grabbed the guy next to me and hugged him.

A nice, tearful reunion. Still, two others wouldn’t be getting theirs.

I hesitated for a bit.

Should we move these people back to the headquarters, or leave them here? A quick look in the shelter revealed a low-ceilinged room, with hefty cement pillars here and there, and little rooms on all sides with cots. Maybe some thirty or forty people inside, most of them adults, but a few kids.

“Hey,” I said to one of them standing by the door. He had an old hunting rifle by his side and looked ready to use it. “I’m stepping out. Just outside. Close up, alright? I want to see what’s going on.”

I waved them off and headed back upstairs. I wasn’t as concerned about aliens as I had been. That blast should have done a number to anything outside, aliens included.

“Myalis, can you connect me to Gomorrah, please?”

Certainly.

I closed my eyes for a moment and just breathed. The line beeped and I heard Gomorrah talking to someone. “…Do what you can. Empty the infirmary. There should be more help coming soon. Give me a moment, I’ve got a call. Cat?”

“Hey,” I said. “Did you feel that?”

“If by ‘that’ you mean the dozen orbital strikes less than ten kilometres away, then yes, we all felt it.” She was a bit terse. Maybe I could cut back on the snark? A little bit?