The shotgun hovered inches from Ampelius’s face, close enough for him to see the scratches along its barrel. The stranger’s finger curled tight on the trigger, steady and ready to fire.

  “And who might you two be? How’d you get past our checkpoint?” he demanded, his voice low, but edged with authority.

  Ampelius raised his hands slightly, palms open. “There wasn't any checkpoint,” he said carefully.

  The man’s grip tightened. “No?”

  Bella spoke before Ampelius could. “If the bodies we found in the alley were your checkpoint, the quake killed them. They were buried under rubble.” Her voice was shakey at best, though her eyes remained locked on the gun.

  The stranger’s expression shifted to disappointment. The barrel dipped a few inches, though not enough to ease the threat. “That explains why no runner came back after the quake. Alright… names?”

  “I’m Bella. This is Ampelius,” she said.

  The stranger glanced at Bella's wounds. “And what happened to you?”

  "Long story short, we were in our apartment building when the earthquake struck. A part of it collapsed onto me until he dug me out," Bella explained.

  “Well you're a lucky girl. I’ll have our doctor take a look and see what we can do. You two are welcome to stay the night, but you leave at first light. And my name’s Saul, by the way,” the stranger said.

  Saul looked to be in his late fifties. Gray hair framed a weathered face, while his ragged clothes gave him a half-homeless look. He stood a few inches taller than Ampelius and carried enough bulk to make him someone Ampelius wouldn’t want to fight.

  “Follow me,” Saul ordered, motioning them deeper into the alley.

  They stepped into a cluster of people gathered around a small fire. The group looked hollow and exhausted, their faces etched with desperation that everyone was dealing with now.

  Ampelius’s eyes swept over the makeshift camp. Tarps and blankets sagged from the walls, forming crude shelters where people huddled together for warmth. No one spoke. The fires offered little heat, and only provided enough light to cast shadows on the wall.

  The smoke created a haze that clung to the buildings, which also dulled the glow of the fires. Ampelius felt worried, if Saul’s people had set up checkpoints, they could be the same group that tried to kill him earlier. Maybe they were walking straight into a trap.

  “We set checkpoints at every entrance,” Saul said as they walked. “Out of five, only one sent a runner. They were supposed to filter out trouble as we are only accepting the needy. We’re not a charity, but we help when we can.”

  As they followed Saul, more scattered fires came into view, people fitted barrels with metal lids to hide their glow from above. The alley narrowed into a web of towering buildings, their upper floors and connecting walkways almost sealing off the sky. Ampelius felt like he was in a mall, or a place trapped between open air and confinement.

  Ahead, Saul pointed to a barricade blocking the path. It was built from debris, such as overturned furniture and scrap metal. It was very crude design, but it was solid enough to look defensible.

  Saul’s mention of checkpoints wouldn't leave his mind, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking straight into someone else’s trap.

  “This is the final barricade before the shopping center, which is our current base of operations,” Saul said. “That building on the left collapsed during the quake and blocked off one side. The other’s sealed where two towers slammed together. One way in, one way out. Easier to defend.” He nodded toward the structure. “Got guards posted on top and a hidden gun ready.”

  Two masked guards in black stepped forward as they approached.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Who are these two?” one of them asked.

  “They're from the outer perimeter,” Saul said. “Four of our five checkpoints are down. Talk to the boss and see what he wants to do. I’m taking these two to Mark for medical.”

  The guard nodded and stepped aside. They walked through the barricade, while Ampelius felt his unease growing. The shopping center beyond was dim and eerily quiet, with many armed men patrolling, but there were no refugees, no barrel fires. Something felt wrong.

  Saul must’ve noticed his look. “Yeah, it’s not exactly welcoming,” he said. “We keep it dark on purpose, its safer this way with those things flying around. I look at it as hiding in plain sight. Each building here serves a purpose. That one’s the clinic.” He pointed to a set of double doors ahead. “Mark should have supplies and a place for her to rest.”

  Ampelius still didn’t trust Saul, but he knew had no other options. Then again, a gunfight here could draw those turtle-shell machines, or so he thought.

  Saul pushed open the metal double doors and ushered them inside, slamming them shut behind him. “Mark! Get over here! These two need medical attention!”

  The clinic was a dim and suffocating place, lit by flickering lanterns and candle stubs. The air smelled of stale blood and antiseptic. Dozens of wounded lay on makeshift beds, most with bandaged limbs, pale faces, and one man missing a leg entirely. All of them stared at them as they entered.

  A man stepped out from a side room, his gown was streaked with fresh blood. He was holding a pair of surgical scissors from his gloved hand like an afterthought.

  “First of all, Saul, this whole damned city needs medical attention, just look around! Second, I’m in the middle of prep for surgery. And third, don’t speak to me like that unless you want these scissors up your—”

  Saul swung the butt of his shotgun into Mark’s stomach before the sentence finished. Mark crumpled to his knees, coughing as the scissors clattered away.

  “This is my shotgun,” Saul said, low and dangerous. “It’s kept me alive through worse than you can imagine. You mouth off to me again and you’ll be the one on the table. Now, this sweet little girl is bleeding out. Stop playing doctor with the corpses and help her, or I’ll make sure you need fixing yourself.”

  “Saul, I didn’t mean—” Mark began, but a hard look from Saul shut him up.

  “Shut up and take care of them. The rest of you will mind your own business,” Saul barked.

  Still winded from the blow, Mark grunted and motioned for Ampelius and Bella to follow. He led them down a narrow, dim hallway and into a side room. A cabinet of supplies stood beside a patient bed, its sheets still rumpled and stained. Mark quickly swapped them for fresh ones.

  “Let me get this ready before she lies down,” he muttered, straightening the sheets. Ampelius helped Bella ease onto the bed, careful of her side.

  “Wow, she’s tall. Let me adjust this so her feet aren’t hanging off,” Mark said, lowering the frame. “That better?”

  “Yes… thank you,” Bella murmured, her voice tight with pain.

  “Alright, let’s see that wound,” Mark said, lifting her shirt. He carefully peeled it back, and Bella winced as air hit the gash.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “I need to see it.”

  “Just do it,” she hissed.

  Mark gasped after seeing the deep and bleeding cut along her side. “This laceration’s bad, and it's certainly going to get infected. Did this happen after the blackout?”

  “Yeah,” Bella said, steadying her breath. “Right after the quake. We fell through the stairs in our building. I landed on something sharp.”

  “Whatever it was, it did some damage,” Mark said. “I can’t tell if anything’s still inside, but it needs treatment now. Infection will kill you faster than blood loss.” He looked to Ampelius. “Press here and hard. I’ll get the supplies.”

  Ampelius pressed down on the wound while Mark moved quickly through the room, pulling supplies from drawers and cabinets. He returned with gloves, a gown, a face shield, antiseptic, sterile gauze, anesthetic, and a lantern rigged with a reflector for light.

  “Alright,” Mark said, snapping on his gloves. “I’ll clean the wound first, stop the bleeding, and check for debris before closing it up. You’ll get a local anesthetic, so expect it to sting at first, but it’ll help numb the pain.”

  “Yeah,” Bella muttered through gritted teeth. “Just start.”

  “Of course.” Without another word, Mark got to work. He called in an assistant and motioned for Ampelius to step aside.

  For the next several minutes, Mark worked in silence, disinfecting the wound and stitching layer by layer until the bleeding finally stopped. Before finally dressing the wound and securing it with medical tape.

  Mark stepped aside and stripped off his gloves and gown before checking on Bella.

  “Hey,” Mark said quietly. “It’s done. The wound’s clean and closed. Try to keep the dressing dry and change it once a day or as needed. I’ll leave you some extra bandages. Come find me in a few days, assuming we’re all still breathing.”

  “She’s lucky,” Ampelius murmured.

  Mark gave a tired half-smile. “Yeah. You both are.” As he turned toward the door.

  “Is there somewhere we can rest?” Ampelius asked. “We’ve been on the move since the quake.”

  “You can stay here for a few hours, at least until we need the room,” Mark said, closing the door behind him.

  Bella was already asleep while Ampelius sank into the office chair beside her, the weight of the day catching up to him. For the first time since the sky tore open, his body finally gave in.

  He leaned back, eyes closing, and sleep took him before the fear could return.