Jenny pointed in the direction the shouting had come from with her shield. “Someone’s there,” she said.

The girl nodded and went ahead, moving lithely as she stepped over rubble and climbed over a table, her knife at the ready.

Still using her rod like a walking stick, Jenny followed as quickly as she could. She hobbled around the table and smashed large chunks of debris into bits with her rod. Empty sacs squished beneath her boots. The babies trailed behind her, sucking on their thumbs and gurgling as they tripped and tumbled. Nothing seemed to harm them.

Another shout came from ahead. She heard rocks clattering, and for a second she wondered if the girl had run into an angel or had fallen. Jenny dragged her ruined foot, used the rod to push herself over a few bodies and a rather large chunk of the ceiling, and she saw what had made the girl shout.

The girl had joined a boy who was struggling with one of the oversized tables from the chem lab room. It was upside down, and another table was jammed on top of it, as well as a large cabinet and a mountain's worth of rubble. She couldn't tell why they were trying to move it. The boy was large and muscular, and he had to be human (stage ii) because that was what she remembered from when she'd been dragged into the lab room.

His helmet was comprised of rectangular blocks that covered the top, sides, and back of his head. And he wore something thin and dark that hugged his frame and made his muscles seem more pronounced. He was groaning loudly as he tried to push the table, and the girl helped as well, using her shoulder, her feet squeaking against the floor.

It wasn't until she stumbled closer that she saw the reason for their efforts. Jenny's heart nearly sank all the way down to the rupture in her side and burst out when she saw who was lying underneath the upside-down table, his legs completely pinned.

Jenny's chest pulled. Like her ribs were collapsing. She'd forgotten to breathe. The boy was still trying to move the mountain, screaming as he failed, and the girl screamed alongside him. But all they managed to do was knock a few chunks loose that rained down in a shower of dust.

Not caring for her foot anymore, Jenny rushed forward and collapsed by Oliver's side. The rod clattered loudly to the floor. The table had crushed his legs up to the knees. Blood pooled around his lower body and soaked into his pants. The greenish armor he wore like a jacket was caked in dust. She wiped his face, trying to clean it, but all she managed to do was smear her own blood on his cheeks. His glasses were shattered now. The empty frames clung to his nose. Please don't be dead.

It took her a frantic second to remember she couldn't see any notifications. Scrambling, she pulled off his green military helmet and cast it aside before pressing her fingers against his neck.

The other boy said something to her, but she couldn't hear him. All her focus was on finding Oliver's pulse. When she finally felt it beating against her fingers, she inhaled a shuddering breath, easing the pressure in her lungs. She wanted to collapse. She wanted to drag him out from under the table. She wanted to break everything and set him free.

His thigh was still ruined. The bone stuck out even worse than how it'd been earlier in the chem lab. The injury was covered in dust, the inner flesh exposed to all the dirt and grime. A helpless rage stirred Jenny's thoughts as she stared down at the brother she'd always ignored.

But the other boy was now shouting at her. He grabbed her shoulder, and she twitched with anger, turning to face him.

Now that she was up close, she saw how menacing he looked. He was dark-skinned, tall and muscular with a slim frame that screamed athleticism. She recognized his face; he'd been on the football team with Susan's ex. But she couldn't remember his name.

His armor was thin and metallic, like sportswear, but none of it was torn. Other than dried blood and dust, it seemed to have held up through however many fights he'd been in, as well as the fall.

As soon as he'd caught a glimpse of her face, he let Jenny go and stepped away quickly. Golden light flickered and flashed around his raised arms, forming red boxing gloves. His eyes narrowed with intense focus.

Great, thought Jenny. There’s no time for this shit. She held up her hands again and shook her head. "I'm human."

"That's not what it says," he said, licking his lips. His entire body seemed to bristle, like any moment now he would burst into action and hit her with extreme force. Any moment now, he would punch her in the face. She thought she could skewer him before his glove ever reached her.

"I know," she said quickly. Tarnished Human... She noticed red flashes of electricity gathering around his gloves, like he was charging them for something, "I'm human." she repeated, not caring how she sounded without teeth. "This is my brother. Oliver."

That finally got through to the boy. His stance faltered. The electricity snapped and blinked out. The girl touched his elbow, and he turned to see the words she signed rapidly. Jenny didn't care. She went back to inspecting the table and the rubble, trying to find some weak point, some way to get Oliver out. Maybe if they removed the stuff on top, bit by bit, slowly and carefully... they could work their way down without too much risk.

A giggle let her know the babies had reached them. She heard the boy and girl shouting, and she turned to see even more babies had joined her little flock. There were sacs in the rubble crushing Oliver, more sacs around them, and she wondered when they'd hatch too.

"Don't hurt them," she said, not caring what the others thought. She was eyeing the other rods and pipes sticking out of slabs of concrete. She reached for her rod and lay it across her knees, straining to remember something from physics. Something about basic machines...

But physics had never been her strong suit. She hadn't paid much attention in class and now her brain felt like mush. Tears kept spilling down her cheek. She kept checking for the rise and fall of Oliver's chest. She wasn't trying to cry. The tears kept coming, blurring her vision. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, the dirt and drying blood smearing wetly.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Oliver coughed, sputtering. Jenny touched his cheek. He felt warm... too warm. But was that cause she was cold and lifeless or because he was running a fever? His eyes opened. "Jenny?" he whispered, squinting. "Why are you... what happened?"

She shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the words.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, then he groaned as though he realized how much pain he was in. He turned his head, his eyes glistening wetly through his broken glasses. He focused on her mouth. "Your teeth..." He tried to sit up and flinched in agony.

"Don't move," she said quickly, resting her hand on his chest and glancing at his legs. He'd tried to pull them free. Some loose rubble had rained down, and she was terrified his legs would rip clean off.

Oliver cried out in pain, grabbing Jenny's arm and squeezing it. Burying his nails in it, breathing hard. The other boy and girl hovered nearby, the babies crawling around them. Two of them wandered over to watch Jenny and Oliver, eyeing her brother as though he might be their next meal.

It was the boy who broke the silence. "Oliver?" he asked, crouching down and pressing one of his gloves into the dirt beside Oliver's head. "Are you good?" But he choked on his question.

"Is that you, Dulé?" whispered Oliver through gritted teeth. He let out a strained laugh. "I guess we're still alive."

The boy, Dulé, laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, I thought the striped one finally got us." He shook his head. He looked at Jenny and added, "It had some kind of toxin or something that fucked us up." Then he swallowed hard, struggling to keep his voice steady. “This was... It’s my fault. I wanted to fight them. I thought we could clear them out. And they had one of our friends...”

But Jenny had already tuned him out. Toxins? They had toxins? Was that why she felt so powerless when it grabbed her and sucked out her blood? She thought she'd just been afraid.

"I thought I was gonna have to watch them eat you guys one by one." Oliver coughed again, still squeezing Jenny's arm. Then he spotted the hole in her side, the blood dripping. He saw the baby that pushed its way to Jenny's side so it could stare at Oliver.

The girl shouted. Dulé stood to see what was going on. Jenny couldn't take her eyes off Oliver's.

"You saved us, didn't you?" he asked quietly. His arms were shaking, but he stopped burying his nails in her arm. "Why are you so cold?"

She shrugged, blinking away tears. "I'm just tired." She tried to smile to reassure him, but without teeth, it wasn't much more than a toothless grimace. Her nose rasped when she inhaled; she must look like a freak.

"Your eyes..." he whispered, reaching up to touch her cheek. "They're the same eyes as the..." Before he finished the thought, his eyelids shut. His hand dropped from her face. His head turned; his face relaxing as he exhaled.

"No!" shouted Jenny, her voice breaking. She was only vaguely aware of the girl and Dulé fighting off angels. The sparks of red light. The flashes of gold. She pressed her fingers back to Oliver's neck, blinking furiously through the tears, trying to see if his chest was still moving. Thoughts of CPR went through her head. Pressing her hand over his chest and pumping his heart for him. Wishing Susan were here to shock his heart or something. Didn't the others have any Energy? Anything? They could make potions or dream up something better and... but if his legs were still crushed and he bled out...

She almost broke down, but then her fingers felt his pulse, a faint rhythm, and she wailed with relief. "He's alive," she whispered. Then she said it again loudly for the others even though they were busy fighting. She spat blood, grabbed her rod, and hoisted herself off the floor.

The angels that had shown up, several Tarnished and a handful of brightly colored Wretched's lay dead or dying on the floor. Jenny looked at them for a moment. The babies crawled toward the bodies, and she turned to the other two. "Help me," she said, her voice quivering.

The rod scratched the floor as she limped over until she stood right beside the table. She tried not to think about the sheer amount of weight crushing Oliver as she grabbed the edge of the table. Dulé and the girl did the same on the other side of Oliver, and together, they tried to lift it. A scream burst through her lips, all her muscles straining, trying to use the most of her separated mind and body. Blood gushed out of her wounds as though someone had squeezed her.

Crying out, she sank to her knees. They hadn't moved the table at all. It was impossible. They would have to lift a portion of the building.

"Fuck," she whispered, touching her wound and breathing hard to fill what blood she had left with oxygen. Dark spots blossomed in her vision. Then she saw a loose chunk of concrete and remembered the lesson from physics class: a lever.

With a cough, she positioned her rod over the chunk, placing one end into the bit of space between the table and the floor. She kept picturing Oliver's flattened legs, thin as sheets of paper. But now the rod stuck diagonally into the air. With the chunk of concrete under it, it looked almost like a seesaw.

All she'd have to do is apply downward pressure and let the rod do the heavy lifting. The others must have figured out what she was attempting because they stepped forward to help. Though the girl whisked away, crying out as more angels appeared. Jenny caught Dulé's eyes. He hesitated for a moment, then hurried over to help.

Still on her knees, Jenny grabbed the rod with one hand and pressed her shield against it. Dulé's boxing gloves vanished, and he bent over to grab it as well. He counted down. "One... two... three!"

Grunting and screaming, they forced the rod down with all their might. The muscles in Dulé's arms bulged. The spots in Jenny's eyes nearly filled her vision. Then, just as it seemed like the table might shift, and Oliver let out a groan... it seemed like there was just enough space to drag Oliver out; the rod snapped.

Its length flicked upwards and spun away over their heads, nearly taking their faces with it. What was left of the rod was now trapped under the table. Dulé swore loudly.

Jenny stared helplessly at that tiny bit, blood dripping from her hand. Somehow, she'd thought the rod had been special. As though she'd found it for a reason. It had been inside her, hadn't it? How could it betray her like this?

Dulé's gloves reappeared. A Tarnished Angel sauntered over, hissing. Red light flashed, and a single punch completely obliterated the angel’s head. Its body collapsed.

Breathless, sweat dripping down the side of his face, he turned to Jenny, his eyes filled with grief. "I wanted to use my Raging Strike and blow all the stuff away but..." He shook his head. "It's not strong enough."

Jenny shoved her tongue against her gums as though she was trying to force her teeth to grow. She was only half listening to his apology; she was trying to figure out a way to use his crazy punch.

None of her skills, even if she didn't have Severed Spirit active, would help. Frustration was building and building, and she wanted to scream until her throat went hoarse and all the angels in the building had found her.

Then she heard the babies gurgling loudly. A few of them were eating the angels the girl and Dulé took down while watching the rest of the fighting. Some of the other babies had wandered away from the group and were messing with something sticking out from the rubble not too far away from Oliver.

It was a large, muscular dark arm that ended in claws.

For the briefest of seconds, she felt motherly pride, and she scrambled towards the arm, limping terribly on her ruined foot until she collapsed on top of it. She pushed the loose rubble away, uncovering the black Wretched Angel that had nearly killed her. Its lower jaw was missing. Its insides were split open and exposed, covered in dust. Its tendrils were loose and unmoving. Smack in the center of its forehead was her hatchet.

An idea, a sick and twisted and horrible but desperate idea, came to Jenny's mind. She grabbed the handle of her hatchet and wrenched it free as the babies chewed the angel’s insides.