4th Era, 87th Eon, 875CX

Once again I am beset by a conflict of interests, although I suppose that is normal for all of us. To attend my daughter's dance recital or not to attend my daughter's dance recital? That is the question. In a way, it's like the decision I had to make between floated peas or floated carrots. What separates the two decisions is my order at the diner does not bring into question whether or not I am a good father. Normally I always attend her dance recitals, but the accursed wench Bethany is also coming. May she be platyiscerated for her passive aggressive-

"Hey Mishta whatcha doin'?"

"... Writing."

"Writin' wha'?"

"... On paper."

"Whatcha writin' on de papae?"

"... Words."

"Whith words?"

"All of them?"

"WOW all a' dem?"

"Yep."

"I know all de letters of de alphabet, you wanna to hear em?"

"... No."

The toddler proceeds to yell out the letters of the alphabet as quickly as possible, as if he practiced. People began to stare.

"You really do know all the letters of the alphabet, huh?"

"Ye'!"

After a while of waiting there hoping the child would go away, I sigh, and look up from my journal. I see the toddler with a sports cap has now pulled up a chair and is sitting across from me, staring. I put my hand under my chin.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Ye, you gunna eat dat?"

The toddler points to my bowl of floated peas.

"Yes, I am?"

The toddler pauses for a moment.

"Can I have et?"

Okay, this child is starting to wear thin on my patience.

"Look, why don't you run off to your parents okay?"

"Dunno wher' dey are."

I look at him, and around at the diner.

"Did you run off from your mom and dad?"

"Ye'?"

I immediately get up and grab his wrist.

"Alright come with me, I'm taking you back to your parents."

The toddler squirms and writhes and does everything he can to get out of my grip, but he is unsuccessful, and I hold fast.

"Comon Mishta, dey always find me!"

"Don't care, can't let a kid run around a diner without his parents."

I drag him with me as I go up to pay, glad to see Margaret is manning the till at the moment. I already know how much a bowl of floated peas is, and I put down my tab in coins plus my usual tip. She gives me a friendly look, and we chat for a second.

"Floated Peas still good, Mike?"

Well that's a first, she never remembers my name. My mastery of passive flirtation must finally be paying off.

"As always Marge. Love to chat, but did you see this kid walk in?"

Margaret takes a second to look over her desk to see the toddler.

"That's odd, no I didn't see him. Probably slipped in through the fire escape if I had to guess, you know I watch the front door like a hawk."

"I just wanted de peash."

Margaret frowns, looking back and forth between the toddler, the front door, and the fire escape near the bathroom. Suddenly, she yells into the room behind her.

"Jannet, cover me! we got a kid on the loose and I'm going to find his parents!"

"... Oday- I mean Okay mom!"

Margaret steps out from behind the desk.

"I'm going to help."

"I appreciate it Marge but I think I got-"

"Nope, I can't let a toddler run around without his parents either. You know how it is."

Yeah, I definitely do know the feeling. Everyone gets it at some point when they have a kid or two. I begrudgingly nod in understanding.

"Alright, I can't stop you."

Marge steps outside and I drag the toddler with me. We take him to an out-of-the-way spot in the parking lot. I crouch down so my bill is level with his.

"Alright kid, what's your name?"

"Ma saed not te talk to de stranges."

"She also said not to run off, right?"

"Ye'?"

"Well the seal is broken, you're in trouble anyway. Now name. Pronto."

"... Bobbeh."

"Bobby, good. Last name?"

"Prawlee."

"Prowley?"

"Ye'."

"Alright, Bobby Prowley, tell me, where were you last with your parents?"

"Dunno."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Forgot."

The child was now extremely pale and sullen. I was starting to think this brat was hiding something.

"Do you remember when you last saw your parents?"

"No."

"Well, what do you remember?"

"... Diner. Peash. Hungry. Came in..."

Margaret is now crouched down with me.

"Bobby, did you go in through the entrance we just left, or another entrance."

"... De red wun..."

Marge nods.

"So he did enter through the fire exit. Damn, I knew I should have fixed the alarm."

Suddenly, Bobby's legs gave out under his weight, and paternal instincts kicked in as I caught the little guy in my arms.

"Whoa god, you okay Bobby?"

He doesn't respond. His sports cap falls off to reveal a pretty bad gash on his head, staining his feathers red. I grimly look up at Marge.

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"Call an ambulance, his parents are going to have to wait."

Marge nods, looking like she is about to faint. She starts sprinting to the nearest payphone she knows of.

Meanwhile, I just shake my head. A couple of other people now have gathered around.

"Does anyone here know how to dress a wound?" I yell out.

No one steps up. I guess I'm the most qualified person for the job, then.

"Alright," I spot Jannet among the quickly growing crowd of onlookers, "Jannet, does your mom have a first aid kit in the restaurant?"

"Uh, ye- I mean yes!"

"Grab it, quickly now!"

Jannet runs back into the restaurant, and after a moment returns with a first aid kit. I pop it open, and frown. None of this looks like the hospital stuff I'm used to.

"Does no one here know how to use a first aid kit?"

Silence.

"Well, I'll see what I can do then. But don't-"

"I can!"

Suddenly, a young girl comes pushing through the crowd, wheezing.

"I am… first aid trained…" She takes a moment to get her breathing under control. "Whoo, sorry, asthmatic, can't be running like that…"

Wordlessly, she approaches and kneels down next to me, using the first aid kid to start dressing Bobby's wound. I try to talk to her to help in any way I can.

"What's your name?"

"Angela."

"Are you in high school?"

"Yes, I just got trained in first aid. I'm going to be a paramedic when I grow up."

"Good, good-"

It suddenly started to rain. Odd, seeing as it was sunny before.

"What's your name?"

"Mike."

"Help me get this kid inside then Mike, rain isn't good for wound care."

Fair enough, I suppose. I lift Bobby up, attempting to keep his neck as still as possible. We quickly bring him inside, clearing off a table and setting him down. I take charge of the situation.

"Jannet, clear everyone out of here."

"On it."

"Angela, how is he doing?"

Angela looks up at me for only a moment and back down at Bobby, extremely concerned.

"I can't apply direct pressure because I suspect he has a skull fracture, but the wound is dressed as best as I can. I'm not an expert, but judging from how he looks, I can say for sure he needs to go to a hospital. He's breathing but it's shallow."

The rain outside has gotten much worse.

"Damn, where's Marge."

Angela raises an eyebrow,

"Marge?"

"Margaret, I sent her to call an ambulance."

Janet finally gets back from clearing people out and locking up. Immediately after, an old woman approaches the door, standing directly in front of a sign that says 'closed'.

"Are you open?"

Jannet approaches the lady,

"Miss we are closed."

The old lady scrunched up her face and gave a look like Jannet just shot her dog.

"Oh. Well can I come in anyway? I just need my daily clover."

"Sorry Miss, we have a situatio-"

"Liar! Lazy Hatchlings have no respect! I need my clover or I will die!"

"Miss, that's just a myth-"

Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck several feet away from the old woman, sending a defeaning boom down my spine and I assume Jannets and the old ladys. Jannet rushes to get the door open.

"Okay, you can come inside, but just to weather this storm!"

Suddenly, the old lady went from being a bitch to being a nice grandma again.

"Thank you, sonny."

And she walks in, taking a seat like nothing happened. I sigh, looking back at Jannet.

"Do you know which payphone Marge might have headed to?"

"Mom always told me to go to de- I mean the one down by the drugstore."

She should be back by now. I shake my head, knowing what I got to do.

"I'm going down there to see what's up; I should be okay, if I get struck by lightning I have rubber soles."

That's how it works, right?

They gave me a look, but no one tried to stop me as I marched out of the diner. As I close the door behind me, I hear the old lady ask for clover like a confused child.

Okay, did Marge drive there?

I look around. Quickly realizing I am a dumbass, Marge doesn't have a car.

Is her bike still locked up?

It's clearly gone, looks like she took her bike over to the payphone.

Alright, she's probably stuck somewhere.

I get in my car and drive off. The rain is oppressive, making it near impossible to drive. Luckily there are no other cars on the road, who goes out at noon?

While driving 10 on a 40 street, I manage to faintly hear something quite concerning: The hurricane siren, nearly drowned out by the roar of thunder. I don't think this is a drill. I fjord my way through the storm, barely seeing anything even with my brights on. The wind is picking up small debris, my car pushes aside a rolling trash can. The only thing louder than the booming thunder is the constant screaming wind hitting my car. I finally pull up to the drug store, and the lights are off.

I park on the curb and fail miserably to open my car door. The gale is stronger than I had anticipated. I put my shoulder into it and manage to get my car door open enough to slip out. Suddenly, I hear an ugly thunk and look to see a stop sign embedded itself into the metal of my car. I would have died if it was a couple feet to the left.

I move away from the car, and nearly fall on my ass. The wind is almost strong enough to pick me up now. Bracing myself, I grab onto the side of my car and forge my way into the drug store. The door is unlocked. I breathe a sigh of relief, but I suppose I'm not out of the woods yet.

"Marge?"

Margaret pokes her head out from behind the counter. Oh thank God.

"Mike, what are you doing here? Is Bobby still at the restaurant?"

"I was worried about you. And when I left, Bobby was still at the restaurant. What the hell are you doing? Did you manage to call an ambulance?"

Margaret sighs.

"When I got here there was a huge line for the phone. I convinced some of them to let me cut but apparently we are being spared the worst of the storm because we are inland. By the time it was my turn the staff started clearing everyone from the drugstore but I had to stay to get Bobby help. Just after my call, the power cut out, and I knew it was safer to stay here and ride it out."

I rub my temples, taking in everything she is saying.

"Okay, I getcha. Well I drove here, so let's get-"

Suddenly, I hear the distinct crunch of glass. I turn to see a metal stake run itself right through my windshield and through the seat of my car. Damn, and the dealer said that the leather was genuine…

"Marge, I have made the executive decision to stay here."

"Right so."

An ambulance zooms by the drug store, heading in the general direction of the restaurant.

"Oh thank God…"

Relieved, I trudge back over to Margaret, and take shelter behind the counter away from the windows.

"How are you holding up?" I ask Marge.

It's her turn to sigh, and she puts her head in her lap.

"I'm worried about Jannet, I…"

I put a hand on her shoulder. Oh god, now I'm touching Margaret, slow down on the moves Romeo.

"She will be fine, I know most of the ambulance guys and they aren't dumb. They will pick her up and transport her to either the hospital or a shelter. Trust me."

Margaret doesn't respond, but I can tell from her body language that this is at least helping with her nerves. Eventually her posture relaxes and she leans on the back wall with me. Suddenly, she locks eyes with me.

"What about your daughter?"

"Tammy? Well…"

I got so sucked up in this I forgot about her. Where would she be right now? I look around and see a wall clock that's still running.

"She should have gotten off from school half an hour ago…"

"I've been thinking too, it only has been half an hour since it started raining, and now the hurricane siren is going off… Did you happen to catch the weather report today?"

"Nothing about a hurricane, it was clear skies and everything. They even played the BBQ jingle."

"That's not natural… Oh god, do you think the kids were caught in the storm as they were walking home?"

"I doubt it, that school she goes to, it's screwed up so many times. They let graffiti go, they caused mass food poisoning, they lied to me about getting my daughter a student aid, they left a whole grade behind on a field trip! But I don't think they would screw up so badly as to let the entire school leave when a hurricane is in the midst."

Margaret smiles sadly,

"I'm glad my kid graduated. Sounds like MS has gone downhill since then."

I can't help but laugh.

"Ain't that the truth. I gotta fight tooth and nail to get anything done with them. And I'm not some rich bastard that can spend their entire free time complaining to the board like Bethany."

"Oh god, yeah. Did you hear Bethany got slapped across the bill the other day?"

"She did!? Holy shit, finally."

"Right? That's what you get when you imply that someone's own hatchling isn't as good as your own."

We see a firetruck, several police cars, and two more ambulances whiz past the establishment. My mind goes back to the situation at hand.

"When was the last time we had a hurricane this bad?"

"Mike, I'm not a weather nut like my grandpa."

"I know, but do you remember any of his ramblings?"

Margaret thinks for a second.

"Actually… yeah, I do remember my grandpa talking about a pretty bad storm in his teens. Levelled the whole island because of an ear-"

A faint tremor is felt through the floor.

"You had to say it, huh?"

Margaret looks at me wide eyed.

"What did I do!?"

That's when the situation went from a bad day, to a catastrophe.

The ground below betrayed us; everything began to violently shake. I've never endured an earthquake before, and after this I hope I never have to again. It's like trying to walk on a trampoline, but there are hundreds of people right below pushing up and down chaotically. Now imagine a building on top of that.

We held each other as the earthquake ravaged the area around us. But then it was over. The quake passed us by, and while there was damage from the quake, we are on an island. The worst part of an earthquake is not the shaking.

It's the great wave after.

It was pouring, but something shifted with the earthquake. If I had to guess, the drainage collapsed. Water began to build up in the streets and seep into the drug store.

"I wonder if this building is insured…"

I do a double take and look at Margaret.

"That's what you're thinking about right now?"

"I don't want Greg to lose his shop and be broke, he has three kids!"

"Why would Greg even have flood insurance?"

"Well we are-"

A look of realization and horror dawned on Margaret's face. She grabs my head and screams at me,

"We are low land!"

Well shit.

"We gotta get out of here."

I approach the windows to check on my car. Besides the stake, it looks okay. Unrelated to the car though, what the fuck Margaret?

"Why didn't you say earlier that we are in flood territory!?"

"I forgot, okay!?"

I sigh, turning away from the window.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry, we have to risk braving the storm. Where is the nearest high ground from here?"

"If I had to… Had to…"

Her eyes widened, and she stepped back.

"Big! Wave!"

I turn to look.

Huh, who put this skyscraper tall wave in front of the drug store.

----------------------------------------

I wake up, and salt. I taste salt, I smell salt, my entire skin feels covered in salt. I crack open my eyes, and I swear for a split second I saw salt. But no, I see the sky. There isn't a cloud in sight. Everything is calm. I look down. Everything looks like it's in its right place. From head to flipper. I attempt to sit up, but I am roughly pushed back down.

"He's awake." I hear.

Geoff?

I turn my head over, and I see Geoff lifting up a stretcher. I look to the other side and I see another paramedic lifting the other end of the stretcher. I look down at what I'm resting on, and yep. I'm on a stretcher.

"Hey Geoff, who's this stretcher for?"

"You, dumbass."

I suppose that makes sense

"What am I doing on it?"

"We peeled your body off a piece of driftwood."

I was loaded up in an ambulance. Oh, hey, they finally got to take the Ritzbritz car out of repair hell. I try to sit up again but I am shoved down once more.

"Asshole, don't sit up, you should be dead. Or at least feeling like absolute shit."

"Well fuck you too Geoff."

I sigh, laying back down.

"What happened?"

The doors close, and Geoff sighs.

"Rhonda just hit, that's what."

"Rhonda?"

"That's what they are calling this mess. Massive hurricane combined with the highest recorded earthquake and the resulting mega wave levelled most of Roshore. Only the folks down at Herafore have their shit together enough to organize rescue teams."

I try to ask more, but my body finally realizes that it should feel like it got hit by a truck. I start feeling like I got hit by a truck. Soon after, I pass out again.

The next time I wake up, I'm in a hospital tent, packed in with a dozen other beds with banged up people. I see a colored marking on each of them. Triage treatment huh? I finally get to sit up without being stopped and take stock of myself. My arm hurts like hell, and judging from the splint I broke my arm. My body is covered in bruises, to the point that I am nearly a single unibruise. Everything is sore, and my head is pounding. I could do with a drink— actually, I could do with a strong fermented fruit brew. But I doubt any of the local bars are open. Cautiously, I test to see if I can get out of bed. While it hurts like hell, nothing bad happens when I do so. That's going to have to work, I need to know what happened to Margaret and even more so Tammy.

I made my way out of the tent and that's when the scale of the disaster really hit me. Not only were triage tents being used, I was lucky to not get a mattress on the ground. I'm stepping over unconscious people, and doctors, nurses, even people in civilian clothes are going as fast as possible to attend to patients. I look to see that ground beds are extending all the way out to the parking lot and room was being made in the nearby office building. ICU tents are even set up hugging the hospital, and I recognize one poor soul having to get ICU treatment on a regular bed.

The sheer amount of deaths this display implies sends an icy feeling of apprehension that I have never felt quite like before or ever since. It's easy to shrug off a big number of people dying because it's a statistic to you. But right now I am feeling the full weight of it all. I grab onto the nearest tent pole to support me because my head goes woozy. Why? Why did this have to happen?

I look around to see if I can spot Tammy or Margaret, but all I see are people I don't know. People who are part of the statistics I suppose. Very much wishing for a cane but not wanting to bother the very busy doctors, I slowly hobble and negotiate my way through the field of medical beds. Moving them now, my knees feel like lead, and my arm in the splint throbs angrily. I should be on painkillers right now. But this is triage, and I am very low on the totem pole. On the outskirts, I find a large group of my paramedic buddies, along with troops from the guard, cops, and even random civilians carting in survivors. I spot Rodd organizing some people like he always does, and I make my way over.

"Rodd, what's the situation like?"

He looks at me, shaking his head.

"Get back in bed, Mike. You're in no condition to help survivors."

"Rodd, I just want to know what's up with Tammy, and this other woman named Marge who runs that diner by my place."

Rodd tuts,

"Man, you and your single mothers, I know who you're talking about. I don't know about the clerk at that diner you visit but I kept an eye out for your daughter."

I nod expectantly, "and?"

Ros gives a long, drawn out sigh, shaking his head.

"We haven't found her yet. We checked your home first, it's levelled, but she wasn't there. Last we heard, the principal of MS let everyone out an hour early, which means-"

"Tammy has a walk back home that's a bit over an hour." I blurt out.

My blood ran cold, and everything felt like it was in slow motion. Tammy was caught out in the storm. Tammy was caught out in the storm. Tammy was caught out in the storm. I am a horrible father. I…

"I'm sorry Mike, our teams are looking all over, we will tell you when we find her."

"Not good enough." I say with a strained voice.

"I am not going to stop until I find my daughter, and if you try to stop me I will punch you in the goddam throat, do you hear me?"

Rodd couldn't help but cynically chuckle at that.

"I fully believe you would punch an active officer…" With little flourish, he digs around in a chest behind his makeshift desk and he pulls out a backpack with a bunch of equipment.

"Your daughter usually takes the beach side on her way home, right? I'll assign you with team 7, they're about to sweep that area."

I breathe a sigh of relief, giving Rodd almost a smile. I offer my hand to shake.

"Go to hell Rodd."

He shakes my hand.

"Go fuck yourself, Mike."

And with that, I set off, loading up in an old police transport truck with a couple other people.

----------------------------------------

The ride there was uneventful, I got a view of the devastation. To say entire blocks were reduced to nothing was an understatement. These are places that even if I never visited I have seen time after time since I was young. Gone. The road was barely distinguishable from the ground because of the thick layer of mud caking everything left. Not to mention the knocked down buildings covering the streets. It was honestly easier to go off road than to rely on the paths made before Rhonda hit. We stopped multiple times on the way to pull survivors out of wreckage, or sometimes corpses which we thought were survivors. The beach looked more like a chaotic dump, although before Rhonda it was a normal dump. Wreckage, debris, wood, cars, everything. The beach was so covered the sand was barely visible.

We rolled up our sleeves and got to work, sifting through every bit of debris to find survivors. To find Tammy. We made slow but steady progress, luckily not too many people were on the beach when the big wave happened. But there were plenty of stubborn folks who have lived here forever that refused to believe they couldn't handle a storm.

That's when the oddest thing happened. I was helping lift up a car with 5 other people, and right underneath laid a figure clad in a strange armor. We got the car out of the way, and we heard breathing. Someone was alive in that suit! We tried to take it off but no luck, the armor was very firmly locked in place. That's when I got the bright idea to use a pry bar. I wrenched off the face guard piece. I was met with the strangest face I had ever seen. It was… smooth… with tendrils coming out from under the armor. Their bill was… weird. Everyone was on edge as we gathered around, what the hell was this?