More jets streaked by overhead, too low for an airshow. Hell, by now anyone that thought it was an airshow was dead. This was war. Right here, on the soil of the capital.
William Rosenthal swore as the jets broke the sound barrier just above the skyline. Windows of the skyscrapers shattered and rained down on the evacuating civilians, with one of the millions of shards flying neatly just past his arm, grazing it and letting a small sliver of blood loose. His arm tensed and the woman it was wrapped around looked at him worriedly.
"Will?"
"It's nothing, E-V." He assured the startled girl, who narrowed her eyes before looking back in front of herself, where a large mob was beginning to form.
Will put a hand on the small of her back and pushed as he began to run faster. They shouldered their way into the crowd and continued to push toward what they hoped to be the evacuation site.
"It's like getting lunch, eh?"
"Really the wrong analogy, Will. People are dying here." Evelyn reminded him grimly. The smile that had spread on his face remained, however, and he nodded absentmindedly as he looked around and continued to press.
"Women and children first. Any refugees unable to board a shuttle will be escorted to underground shelters. I repeat--" An oddly calm Marine was yelling into a megaphone a few feet away. So they were in the right place after all. Will felt a push on his back and stumbled forward as a hand grabbed him from the front and pulled.
Their part of the mob was led to another shuttle, where another Marine stood at the entrance, counting off passengers as they rushed inside. The Marine that had grabbed Will put a hand to his mouth and yelled. "How many?"
"Bout thirty six more, and this'll be one of the last out. Raise the Sergeant and have him make ready to escort the rest to the shelters!" The counter responded over the crowd. The man next to Will flashed a quick thumbs-up before continuing to move the group forward, where they an up the gangplank and into the shuttle.
"Four more!" A family of three ran in just in front of Will and Evelyn. "One more! Ma'am." He said looking to Evelyn. She stepped in and he entered after her, then pushed his way toward the cabin as the engines flared and began to spin up.
"Will, come on! He isn't here!" She whispered urgently. Will looked to the people behind him and let a few more in before blocking the way again and taking Evelyn's hand.
"Sorry, E-V. My pride won't let me do this. Yo live, you run away. I stay and whatever happens happens, right? That's how it happens in all the vids, right?" He said with a smirk.
Evelyn's brow furrowed and she stepped to the side before pulling him in and stepping out herself.
"To hell with your pride. Let's see how you like being the weak one." She said with all the courage she could muster before closing the door. She could afford to do this, right? The Marines would get her into the shelter fine and the enemies would be eventually killed. After all, this was the capital. Yes. This was worth it. She convinced herself so as she tapped the panel to her right and the door slid closed. "Bye bye, Will." She said with an out of place smile of her own as she stepped away and the shuttle took off.
"All those who didn't make the shuttle, please follow me to the bunkers!" A Marine yelled. All the angry refugees on the gangplank turned ad filed back down onto the asphalt, where platoons of Marines were taking groups of refugees into the city, toward the memorial park, where the emergency bunkers were.
"This is shuttle Kilo Seven-Five. W have a bogey marking our six, painting us now. Need cover!" The voice shouted over an E-Band radio one of the Marines near Evelyn was holding.
"Kilo Seven-Five, this is Dagger One-Four. En route now, Evade as long as you can."
"Shit, we've got launch warnings. Pop the damn flares! Do it!! Pop the --" The feed was interrupted by a large screech and an explosion. All eyes turned skyward as the last shuttle's fusion core went critical, instantly vaporizing the ship. Evelyn froze, but around her more angered refugees muttered small 'that could've been me's and even the unusual 'serves them right'.
"No, no this can't be happening." She assured herself while the pace of the crowd picked up to a jog, the desperation of the Marines evident.
She instinctively put her hand in her pocket and clutched the small picture within as they entered the large memorial park, where they were yet again being split into lines to enter the bunkers. She waited impatiently, flicking the corner of the picture until finally she could see the entrance.
"The hell was that?"
"Fuck, bombers!"
"Everyone, get inside, brace!"
The wind got knocked out of Evelyn, and next thing she knew, she was down on the floor. She saw spatters of blood on the floor just in front of her. Was that her blood? Just a few inches away from her was a small picture: a girl with pearl-white hair and violet eyes with her arms intertwined with a slim man with short brown hair and his own distinct eyes the color of emerald. Two kids in love. No, they were in love. Past tense. Now he was dead. And she probably wasn't far behind. They did say that that was a bomb that fell, right? She wasn't special, she couldn't have lived through that. This had to be the end.
"This can't be how it happens. No, it can't be. It can't. It just--"
And then it was . . .
