They did what they could to make it orderly, but they were only two people amidst the slow but unstoppable flow of people fleeing for their safety. They repeated the same things, over and over, telling people to focus first on those that are old, and those that have children. Find somebody you can help, and if you can’t, then let those people through first.
They did their best to find people they could help, instead of seeming like they were doing so much by screaming the same thing repeatedly over the increasingly loud shriek of the light in the sky. One of them found an old lady with a walker, dressed in extremely old-fashioned garb that was still in style way out north, whom they had seen around in the building but did not know the name of. They helped her get to the front of the line.
One after another, they helped organize the line and get those that were less capable into the basement which, due to nearly all architecture having to take war and explosives into account, doubled as a bomb shelter, or just a shelter of any sort.
Old lady, mother with her child, old couple, Dad with two kids, over and over, all the while screaming the same few messages. Elderly, families, incapable…otherwise, stand back…
It probably should have occurred to them at some point while doing this that their mother, who could fit in the categories they kept repeating, was not present. She had left for work that morning, and had not returned. They figured that she had been working a longer shift, as money had been especially tight as of late, although they had not been told that. It wasn’t irregular for her to seize any opportunities to make extra money that came her way. Maybe that’s why they had forgotten about her. Or maybe they were just too focused on doing the right thing.
They poked their heads above the crowd that they continued to wade through that made a slow and steady march towards the basement, and made eye contact, as if to say where’s mom? Neither of them gave any sign of affirmation. Only concern and inquisitiveness, which only made the concern worse. But they couldn’t think about that now. They had to do what they had to. They focused on the crowd. They had a few other people, about their age, helping out with getting those in need into the basement first. Those people had louder voices.
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They started to search the crowd specifically for their mother, now more frantic than they were before. A voice was in their heads, telling them to stop, not to worry about it. She was a capable woman, one who had worked in factories and in hard labor while still being a frail old woman. She was a woman covered in calluses, her hands able to cut rocks. But they couldn’t stop themselves. She couldn’t be alone. If they had to die here, they couldn’t die without their mother. They couldn’t…
The crowd was starting to thin out now. The apartments above had probably emptied out, and a large number of people had been filed into the basement. Now mostly the capable, healthy adults were left above. The crowd was moving faster now, and the twins searched even more frantically for their mother, although they knew that at this point it was mostly hopeless. Either they had missed her, or she was elsewhere. They would have to meet up with her at some point later.
They were sure now that their job was done. So they themselves squeezed into the line and started to march slowly on towards the door. The light now was brighter. Those around the twins continued to panic, but they were calm. The only worry they had was about their mother, but as it stood right now, even though they wanted to worry, they couldn’t. First step right now was to survive the maliciously harsh, white light that was now starting to descend upon their city. The light had become so intense, it started to drown out all other colors except for that painful white. The comforting warmth that came with the green that bathed the city no longer serenaded them. But even without the calming aura of the green, and even with the abomination of the white that was trying to blind them, the twins still somehow found comfort. Somehow, they felt like they were going to be okay.
Finally, they passed through the door and started descending the steps into the basement. The walls around them were concrete, probably reinforced to hell and back, and as the room beneath them opened up they could see all those that they had helped down here to their safety. They felt proud, although they felt guilty for that pride. They were not the only ones that did this. They had others that helped. But would those other people have helped if it weren’t for them raising their voices and telling people to file in in an orderly fashion? They thought not, although the voice in the back of their minds told them that it was nothing to be proud of, they just did the right thing. They felt the warmth of it, anyway.
They scanned the crowd as they slowly made their way down the stairs. They did not see their mother.