The Next Chronicle (Book 2): Damage (21 page)

Though she was nominally in charge of her agents the National Guard officers she worked with were so calmly prepared and efficient that Kit deferred to them without hesitation. It was more productive to simply give over her command to the people who knew what the best options during such a disaster were, rather than have to relay their suggestions through her and to the agents.

Which was how Kit found herself working alongside those agents. She kept her earpiece on standby in case anyone needed her, but couldn't sit idle in the command post and watch others work when citizens needed help.

Being at street level brought a new sense of realism to the dire nature of the situation. Seen from above the damage caused could be considered almost fantastic, spread out as it was over such huge distances. It was much like seeing a painting by one of the old masters from afar, then stepping within arm's reach. The one presented a single, unified image you couldn't help taking in as a whole. The other showed you every rough swirl of the paintbrush.

Kit ran alongside a team of medics, four soldiers led by a petite Sergeant with short, blonde hair. Though the medical team carried sidearms, Kit and the two agents with her were tasked with ensuring their safety as well as helping as needed.

Their vehicles had been left behind half a mile back, the streets too cluttered and broken to make the trip. The call had been to an address deeper into the city than the Guard had been able to reach in numbers, so the medical team was sent in with escorts.

“Damn,” Sergeant Schneider said as they came to a stop in front of the address.

“I second that,” Kit replied sourly.

The building wasn't as old as some of the historical properties Kit had seen throughout Louisville, but it was far from modern. One narrow entrance in the front appeared to be the only way into the aged brick building. Even the first-floor windows were unlikely candidates, their sills eight feet off the ground. None of this would have been an issue under normal circumstances, but the quake had collapsed the heavy stone archway over the door.

“You think they'd have mentioned this when they called,” Schneider said.

Kit shook her head. “The emergency cell towers are overloaded with emergency calls,” Kit said. “They probably hit the maximum call time before they thought to tell the operator.”

A window on the left side of the building slid open. A middle-aged woman appeared, her head and torso sticking out. “Oh thank God,” she said, waving at them. “We were worried no one would show up.”

“We'll get inside as quickly as we can, ma'am,” the Sergeant said reassuringly. “Your entrance is blocked at the moment.”

The woman grimaced. “Two of the injured people aren't in any danger, but we have an older lady who was hit by a collapsing shelf. She's not doing well.”

Kit glanced at the rubble, a slope nearly as tall as her in the back and filling the entire width of the entrance all the way to the stoop. “It's going to take a while to clear that,” she said.

“We need to get in through a window, then,” Schneider replied. “Think you can give us a boost?”

Kit nodded. “Easily. It'll be awkward, though. And we'll have to leave people out here to clear the rubble. I doubt we'll be able to get anyone out through the window.”

She turned to the two agents, both vaguely familiar. They were low-level agents, usually working in the facility as guards. Fortunately that meant they had useful powers; both men had a degree of enhanced strength.

“Rodriguez, I'm going to help you through the window first,” Kit said. The man blanched, probably embarrassed at the thought of a tiny woman picking him up as easily as a bag of groceries.

“Coffee,” she said, turning to the other agent, “you stay with me. We'll clear the door as fast as we can.”

They made good time from there. Kit barely felt the weight as she braced herself against the wall. Rodriguez was used to dealing with enhanced humans and didn't bat an eye when Kit effortlessly raised his entire weight. The only part that bothered her was the heavy tread on the man's boots digging into her laced fingers.

The medical team, however, goggled openly. Kit smiled as Rodriguez clambered through the window, amused despite the terrible conditions. Certainly not because of them; Kit had never been one of those people who, like Archer and even Ray to a degree, handled stress and fear through humor.

“Come on, Sarge,” Kit said with a wink. “Up you go. I promise I don't bite.”

Schneider didn't hesitate, though Kit suspected it was more from a desire to be seen as strong in front of her team than a lack of nerves.

After their leader was inside the rest of the medics moved easily. Kit tossed up the bags of supplies and tools they'd set down in order to fit through the window, then moved to the doorway. Agent Coffee had already begun work.

“You can keep on working where you are,” Kit said as the man made to straighten and make room for her. “You stay down here. I'm smaller, so I'll climb up the pile and start clearing from the top.”

Coffee craned his head to look at the roof of the collapsed space. “Looks pretty unstable, ma'am,” he observed. “You sure you don't want me to go in there?”

“It's fine,” Kit said. “I'm tougher than I look. Faster, too.” With that she made her way up the pile of debris.

They worked in quiet unison for what felt like a long time, Coffee steadily eroding the base of the slope while Kit tossed chunks of brick and concrete out into the narrow front lawn. She made sure to keep the arc of her throws well above Coffee's head.

For Kit the world moved at a snail's pace, making every minute seem like four. She knew Coffee would be seeing her toss debris at great speed, but knowing didn't make the time go by any faster for her. Ten minutes in real time passed before necessity forced them to stop.

The smaller pieces of stone had been cleared from the main mass of the blockage, which resolved into a huge slab of concrete. Nearly as wide as the entryway and six feet long, the thing was uneven but thick.

“What the hell?” Kit wondered aloud.

“Looks like a shitty patch job,” Coffee observed. “Probably the second floor hallway above the door. Lots of contractors don't think about how these old buildings are put together. I bet they were supposed to remove the floor up there and reinforce it, but just dug up a bunch of the concrete that was already there and filled it back in.”

Kit gave him an appreciative look. Coffee shrugged. “I used to do some contracting work,” he explained.

“Well, let's see if we can maybe pull it out a little. Then one of us can go to the other end and push, once we make some space.”

Coffee nodded and braced himself to Kit's left, fingers gripping the slab hard enough to cause a few cracks. Kit mirrored him, crouching low and spreading her arms wide. “We only need to move it a few inches at a time,” she warned. “Don't hurt yourself.”

Coffee nodded, and Kit gave a count.

“One, two...” On three they pulled, though even their combined effort wasn't enough to move the slab. It couldn't be strictly a matter of weight since Kit was strong enough to do the job alone. The bottom was probably stuck on something. Friction alone wasn't enough to stop them cold.

Kit pushed herself, trying to lift and pull at the same time in an effort to loosen whatever might be holding the slab in place.

The flood of Surge that filled her veins did not have the intended effect. Instead of the usual flush of power giving her muscles an extra boost, it brought an overwhelming sense of vertigo. Utterly unprepared, Kit vomited as the world became a confusing blur. She felt her body moving, spinning, and then something hit her in the face.

It felt like a building.

“Ow,” Kit mumbled as she regained consciousness. Her eyes opened to dimly lit concrete above rather than sky. The odd combination of motor oil and antiseptic filled her nostrils. A deep, powerful throbbing had taken up residence in her head. The sensation seemed to have settled in for a nice long stay, and from what Kit was feeling had set up business. That business was pain.

“You look terrible, in case you were wondering,” a cheerful voice said.

Kit turned from her back slowly, trying not to shake her scrambled brain.

“Wha—” she said, stopping mid-word. Her jaw was restrained by something, making it hard to open. She ran a curious hand around her face and head. Bandages wrapped around her temples in a headband, another running from jaw to crown. She looked at the speaker, who turned out to be Ray. He was sitting with his right ankle propped on his left knee, an open book in one hand and a cup of tea in another. He looked fine. Perfectly, insufferably healthy. Bastard.

His eyes twinkled. “I know that look,” he said. “You're grumpy when you're hurt, did you know that?”

Kit waved at her face and raised a questioning eyebrow, though she couldn't be sure he could see the expression given her current status as mummy impersonator.

Ray got the hint. “You hit your head super hard. Gave yourself a concussion on the way up, then a hairline fracture in your jaw on the way down.”

Kit frowned, which she discovered also hurt. Carefully forming the words, she slowly asked what he meant by up and down. Had she jumped in her confused state, slapping her skull against a wall?

“That's a little harder to explain,” Ray said apologetically. “When he called in your injury, Coffee said you flew up in the air all of a sudden, like somebody picked you up and tossed you. That's how you got the concussion. Falling back down after you were knocked silly broke your jaw. Though it's not a bad break at all. The doctor didn't want you to hurt yourself in your sleep. He said you can take off the wrap to talk if you're careful.”

More confused than ever, Kit nodded. She carefully pulled the elastic bandage further down, resting it in the crook between her neck and the hinge of her jaw.

“Why did they let me sleep if I have a concussion?” she asked.

Ray shrugged. “You were out when James brought you back here. They couldn't wake you up no matter what they did. The tests didn't reveal anything beyond the obvious injuries, so they observed you for a few hours and put you here. The nurse said weird things like that happen with injured Next sometimes.”

“What threw me into the wall?” Kit asked. “Was it another Next?”

Ray looked uncomfortable. “Kind of.”

“What does that mean?” Kit asked, irritated.

“He means it's my fault,” a new voice said.

Graysen stepped into view. Kit hadn't seen her due for the simple fact that she hadn't wanted to move her head if she could help it, leaving the cots on her right out of view.

“But you were here,” Kit said dumbly. “How could you have done this?”

“I didn't, not directly,” Graysen said. “After I caught you the other day, I had to check in with my proctor in the training program. I hadn't used my powers on another Next before, and when that kind of thing happens we're supposed to be tested and get a check up.”

Kit nodded in understanding. That was part of the ludicrously detailed system of checks and balances the OSA kept in place to prevent accidents. Some Next could have adverse or even dangerous reactions to using their powers at all, or on other Next, or having another Next use their powers on them. The interactions and dangers were legion (and thankfully very uncommon), but the regulations were there for a reason.

She twirled a finger for Graysen to continue.

“Anyway, I went through all the tests and everything seemed fine, but when they had me use my powers on one of the doctors, they realized there was a side effect. Basically, because I didn't know what I was doing, my powers forced you to alter your own gravity. I guided you, but you were doing it partially yourself.”

“How?” Kit asked.

“It's complicated,” Graysen said. “Essentially my powers force the genes that make you Next to activate certain combinations that enable you to do what I do. It's rare, and I swear I had no idea.”

Kit pondered that for a little while. “Are you saying I can do what you can now?”

Graysen shook her head. “Not necessarily. What happened to you today was probably a side effect. When you pushed yourself, the extra power went into the circuit my ability opened up in you. The doctors say you'll go back to normal in a few days, maybe a week.”

Kit narrowed her eyes. “You're not telling me something,” she guessed.

Graysen sighed. “I spent an hour with your doctors and the ones who tested me. They told me what happened to you and we went over every detail and possibility. They talked about your powers and how they work, because they had to be sure you weren't going to have some insane reaction.”

“So?” Kit said, laughing quietly. “I don't care if you heard my medical history, kid. You saved my life.”

“No, what I meant was I know that you don't have a lot of power. Surge energy, I mean. Your body has changed a lot over the years, but the amount of Surge you can use to augment yourself has grown much more slowly.” Graysen hesitated, then threw up her hands. “They didn't want me to tell you, but I'm afraid if I don't, you'll do it by accident.”