Page 309 of Alchemised
“Yes?” She didn’t know Althorne had any idea who she was.
He leaned towards her, his voice dropping. “What are you doing here? Get back to Headquarters before Ferron finds out about this.”
She was speechless, but of course Althorne had to have known. She looked at him helplessly. “Matias signed the order and dispatched me here, and I can’t find the radio to get permission to return.”
“Go back to Headquarters. First lorry. Tell them I ordered it. The last thing we need is Ferron going off the rails.” Althorne dragged himself up on his feet.
“Wait.” She caught him by the arm, and to her surprise, he collapsed back onto the chair. She reached out with her failing resonance, but all she felt was a blur.
“Althorne, you need a mask. It’ll give you lung damage to keep breathing this dust. You’re too valuable to risk,” she said, searching him, trying to find the injury she could tell he was hiding. It was a testament to how weak he was that he sat there, letting her.
He said nothing.
“When are reinforcements coming?” she asked. “There’s not enough people here to handle this much. We’re running out of everything.”
“They’re not,” Althorne said quietly, as if to keep anyone else from overhearing. “We’re all there is.”
Helena’s heart stalled.
He watched as several soldiers dragged in bodies on makeshift litters.
“We can’t risk our remaining combatants down here, losing their resonance. The fallout has to be contained,” Althorne said, his voice tight with resignation.
He stood and swayed.
“Where are you hurt?” Helena asked, blocking his path.
He shrugged her off, straightening, his breath laboured. “It’s shallow. Falling rubble. Everyone’s bleeding. I’ll be fine.”
“Althorne.” She stepped into his path. “You’re hurt. Badly. If I had my resonance, I’d sedate you by force, because you’re not in any condition to lead recovery efforts. You are too valuable. You know that. The Resistance can’t lose you.”
He patted her on the shoulder as if she were a child. “My men are in that rubble. Buried and suffocating because I sent them there.”
A warning shriek rose from the rubble. Long and piercing, followed by another and another. Whistles. Helena didn’t know what it meant.
Althorne’s face hardened. He pushed her aside with a sweep of his arm. “Block the doors. They’ve sent in necrothralls; they’ll be coming for the bodies.”
He strode past her, and Helena stood, torn between trying to stop him and the urgency of securing the hospital. Before she could decide, he vanished into the dust. She turned to face the hospital.
“We need to move all the bodies as far back into the building as possible,” she said, her voice shaking. “If there’s not enough room—stack the dead. We have to secure the doors.”
The thought of being locked in a field hospital again made her vision blur. She forced herself to stay focused, curling her fingers until she felt the scars on her palm.
“Can’t we let Headquarters know we’re under attack?” a medic asked, voice muffled through protective gear. “They have to send people.”
Helena shook her head. “They’re not coming. The nullium has to be contained.”
Everyone around her froze, staring. She probably wasn’t supposed to tell them that.
Helena had never been a leader, and she had no idea how to suddenly begin being one. She was not the kind of person that anyone believed in, and standing, covered in dust, soaked in blood and gore—it was not the time for it. She focused on practicalities.
“Our job is to keep everyone here safe. We’ll move them back and put up obstacles. The Undying won’t come here themselves; nullium affects them, too.”
“But there’s no room to move anyone unless we can break through the walls, and no one here has the resonance for that. We’re already out of space,” a medic said. “And how are we going to block the doors?”
Helena looked around. He was right. If they protected the survivors, they’d have to leave the dead to be taken. Which would cost them dearly later on.
There was no room, and no means.
