Chapter 16:
Jessica’s bloody, dusty hands scrabbled at shattered rock and plaster. The muffled cries that she’d heard coming from below the rubble became clearer with every stone she freed from that pile.
She managed to roll a large stone away, and pity and sorrow spun up inside her as she saw the faces of two small children and what must’ve been their mother staring up at her. “Come on! I don’t know how long whatever’s holding it up off you is going to stay in place! You have to come out of there now.”
The mother said, weakly, “Please, take my children. Here” Her hands thrust the infant out through the hole and Jessica grabbed it. The child was dusty and coughing but seemed otherwise unharmed. The second child, a small boy with large brown eyes that held a stamp of shock and absolute fear, clambered out quickly.
Jessica handed the infant off to his brother. “Give me your hand!”
The woman coughed again. “My legs are trapped! I can’t get out! Just save my children!”
Jessica said, “Which leg? Tell me which leg so I can move the…”
The pile let out a loud groan. Instinct kicked in. Jessica snatched both children up and ran backward just as the pile suddenly crumpled and the woman’s face disappeared in a fast slide of crushing stone.
“Mama! Mama, come back!” the young boy screamed onward and onward while the infant merely stared, his eyes wide and uncomprehending.
Jessica said, “I can’t help her now. Nobody can. Come on! We have to go!”
She wound up running through the streets, carrying both children. Everywhere she looked, there was chaos and death. Houses had fallen, killing their occupants. Once upon a time she had envied and hated those who lived above, but now, as she saw nothing but death and destruction all around her, she pitied them.
A large tracker craft pulled up beside her. The hatch opened, and a woman shouted, “Get in! Come on!”
Jessica shouted back, “Take the children! Their mother was just killed in a rubble slide, and I don’t know their names. I have to go help!”
The woman inside the tracker craft yanked to the children in and then slammed the hatch shut. Jessica stopped running for a moment, bending over to place her hands on her knees once more in an effort to get her breath and to recover from the unrelenting nightmare unfolding all around her.
Yori!
His father’s residence still stood, and it was dead ahead. Jessica’s feet kicked up a choking dust from the broken street’s surface as she aimed toward that still-magnificent abode.
The doors, a heavily carved set made of ancient wood and iron, opened easily. That alone was enough to give her pause. Had everyone within deserted the place?
She stepped into the great hall, her eyes going to the grand staircase that arched upward before splitting into and running in a perfectly symmetrical curve to the upper floor. An eerie silence hung over everything.
Jessica swallowed hard as she listened, trying to hear a single sound. There was nothing, not so much as a stirring inside the house.
A shiver worked its way up her spine. There were at least two dozen servants working at any given hour. There were always visitors; Federation business was of paramount importance and always needed to be tended to.
There should have been doors opening and closing. There should have been voices raised in greeting or goodbye; there should have been servants dashing about, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
There should have beensomething.
Yet there was nothing. Her hand trembled as she shut the door firmly behind her and surveyed that empty staircase and the silent hallway. Had they all fled as soon as they had news of the attack?
Her feet carried her forward. As a friend of Yori’s, and as a Capo, she had made many visits to that house, and she knew its layout very well. To her right lay the passageway that led to the kitchens and the dining hall. Beyond that door was a small parlor where Yori’s mother entertained the spouses of visiting Federation members and dignitaries.
Jessica paused, as she took in the slightly ajar door of that parlor and the rug, slightly askew, on the floor before it. That rug said to her that something was amiss. A servant should’ve already straightened it, and her nerves tingled as she jutted one finger out and pressed the door open just a little bit more so that she could see into the parlor.
Yori’s mother sat in her favorite chair. Her hands folded in her lap and her face turned toward the windows. Jessica’s heart leaped high in her chest as she abandoned caution and dashed into the parlor.
“Why are you all alone in here? Where are the servants? Come on; we have to get you to…” Jessica’s words died in her throat.
Yori’s mother was dead. A single blast wound covered the side of her face that had been turned toward the windows and not visible to Jessica from the door. Jessica scrambled backward, one hand to her mouth.
Her eyes went around the parlor. A bottle of expensive and pure water sat unopened on a tray next to a small plate of fruit, now buzzing with insects. Jessica’s eyes went back to that head wound. It was obvious the woman had been killed at least ten to twelve hours earlier.
But by who?
