The Isolated

Chapter Seven

Another explosion boomed in our ears, making the scene dissipate. And another. At that moment, any panic that had somewhat calmed took right back off up another steep. People were moving again. More of the injured were being shoved in cars, being taken to what I could hope was the nearest hospital. I couldn't spot a flame from the explosions, but I saw the smoke rising in the air. Both of the explosions were clear on the other side of town. Maybe even a couple of miles away. Ambulances and firetrucks zoomed past us, down the road, heading toward the chaos. The third ambulance and fourth firetruck stopped for us. I wanted to help, more than anything, but there was so much going on around me, I didn't see how I could. The injured that were still around were being taken care of. The firefighters were tending the leftover fire. By the time I got to the other sites of destruction, I wouldn't be of help there either. If anything, I feared I would be in the way.

"Ms. Sharpe? Are you okay?" One of the EMT women rushed up to me. Hearing that last name sent a chill up my spine.

"I'm fine. Please help everyone else." With a simple nod, she rushed away.

Pulling out my phone, I called Dean. He picked up on the first ring. "I want to help," I spoke immediately. "I've done what I can here, but I don't know what to do now. Dean, I don't know what to do." My heart was racing. How could I not panic at the scene happening on the territory around me? People were hurt. People were dead. And I somehow managed to blame myself.

"Come back to the leadership building. Everyone is here in the first meeting room," he said quickly. "You'll be more help here than anywhere else." His tone was a little tense. Whether it was worry, fear, or anger—I couldn't tell.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked. "I didn't listen to you."

He hesitated and I heard his breath in the phone. "I've learned to not expect you to," Dean replied simply. "But people are already helping those injured...People who are trained and licensed. It's best for you to now stay out of their way and let them do their job."

Nodding, I pushed my hair back off my sweaty forehead. "Bella took my car."

"I'll send someone after you. I'll track your phone." With that, I hung up and shoved the phone in my pocket.

Someone yelling for Sean caught my attention. A girl with short, black hair cut to her jaw, a thin, flat figure and in a purple flowy dress ran into Sean's arms. She practically flung herself at him. With his arms wrapping around her, he kissed her deeply, holding onto her as if she were the oxygen he needed. Ah. So, the jerk does have a heart after all. It was mere seconds after they separated that she noticed me.

"Of course, she's here," she spat, looking me up and down in distaste. Really? The nation was burning down around us, and she was being petty? "Why don't you run back to Vincent and take responsibility for all this, so the nation can return to peace."

I stared at her blankly. I wasn't dealing with this. Not now. "There was never peace." With that, I turned and walked away, toward the street corner, where I could be picked up. Fortunately for her, she decided to stay there with her boo and leave me alone. It wasn't the time to fight this girl. Though I knew if the time came when people weren't dying around us, I would be more than willing to take her down.

Just as I was reaching the corner, away from most of the chaos, a crying caught my attention. Sitting in the grass was a little girl, maybe seven or eight, holding a baby who looked barely more than a newborn. The girl's hair was ginger and pulled up into a messy bun with straggler pieces sticking out. Her t-shirt and jeans had soot and ash smeared on them, as did the baby's clothes she was holding. There wasn't an adult looking after them. I didn't hesitate to take that position.

I knelt down in front of them, the child looking up at me with teary eyes and wet cheeks. "What's your name?" I questioned softly, glancing down at the baby. Both of them seemed fine physically. At least from what I could tell.

Her lips puckered and quivered. "R—Roe," she mumbled in between sniffles.

I managed to fight back my worried feelings and slipped her a small comforting smile. "Where's your mommy?"

More tears streamed down her face and she pointed behind me. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see a man placing a sheet over a dead woman. Fighting back strong emotions, I turned back to the kids. I had to be strong. "What about your daddy?"

"I d—don't h—have a daddy."

My heart shattered for them. "Do you have any more siblings?" She shook her head. "Well, I'm Mel. I'll take care of you," I told her. The broken little girl nodded. Moving slowly and as gently as I could, I reached for the baby in her arms. Hesitation paused her movements for a split second, but she agreed to hand me the baby. I lifted the yellow blanket that swaddled the baby and cradled her in my arms. The infant continued crying. Withing just a short minute or two, after rocking the swaddled child in my arms, she sniffled, hummed, and calmed down.

Just at that time, a car pulled to a stop beside us on the street. The passenger window rolled down and the driver called for me out of it. My decision was quick. "Come on," I told Roe. "Let's get out of here."

She followed my actions, climbing to her feet, and wiped the tears flowing down her cheeks. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe," I reached down for her hand.

She just looked at me with her big brown eyes before glancing back at the body, wrapped in a black sheet, now being carried off onto an ambulance with a few others. "But what about mommy?"

I swallowed the lump down in my throat. "Mommy would want you to come with me, where I can take care of you. She would want you safe."

Her lips remained pouted and more tears left her eyes as she sobbed. But to my surprise, she accepted my hand and let me lead her to the car. I got into the back seat where I could sit with them. Holding the baby in my lap, I buckled up Roe and let her lean into my side for comfort. The driver, who I didn't recognize looked at me in his rearview mirror. He gave me a sad, knowing look in his eyes, which I understood as sympathy. I didn't know what I would do with these two kids. I could only hope that they have other family members that I could find and contact.