Out in the Black Ch. 14

He didn't mince words when it came to why the government was responding now when it had been happy to ignore the problem for so long. Rather than credit his own reporting, though, the captain put the focus on the viewers.

"This is because of you," he repeated. "You, the good people of Sol, saw what was happening here in the Bottoms and you spoke out. No longer could the government of the Ring Station pretend it saw nothing, heard nothing, when the calls for action were echoing across the system." More than one person on the team was blinking back tears. Cap was damn good at his job.

As the day wore on, a growing number of people found their way over to our location. Our earliest visitors had seen us talking with the doctor and wanted information. Later, when the lab began actually admitting patients, more came looking to share their opinion on air. There was plenty of distrust and I spent a few minutes wondering if anyone would be willing to put their children in the LowDRI's care.

Finally, about a quarter hour after the hospital had been declared open, a small family took a few tentative steps into the open area before the barricade. I raised an eyebrow at the captain and he gave a small shake of his head, choosing to describe what was happening rather than invade their privacy by sending a drone to record the moment. A smiling man in scrubs approached and gently escorted the family toward the doors of the structure. I thought it was just the parents and a little one stumbling along beside the dad, dragging a leg behind, but then I saw the bundle and came damn close to losing my composure.

The mom - barely more than a kid herself - was carrying a distressingly limp baby. Tears ran in a constant stream down her face and dripped onto the ragged blanket and I knew in my heart that poor kid was dead. The nurse offered to carry the child and the woman clutched it close in panic. A thin wail pierced the air, and it was only after hearing the breath leaving hundreds of lungs on the tail of my own relieved exhale that I noticed how quiet the area had become. Within minutes, the noise level returned and increased as parents lined up to check their kids in.

Cap's eyes glistened as he smiled into the camera, reporting on the escalating interest in the lab. Those first parents didn't reappear, but most did, especially those with older children. A handful wandered over to answer questions about conditions inside the hospital, though most gave one-word responses such as "nice" and "clean." They were clearly overwhelmed and, other than me and the captain, our team spent the afternoon providing what care they could.

Family members went on camera to plead with their relatives to bring in their sick kids. Some of the custodial staff showed up and testified about developing persistent coughs and headaches after using the newer cleaning solution. The captain thanked these people profusely and made it a point to stress that we would take their information and check up on them periodically.

With our stationary setup, I only needed one camera to film Cap and his interviews, so I used the other to scan the crowd, looking for anything that might be worth closer attention. I was pretty sure I'd glimpsed Scrap and his friend a few times, but strays were good at staying hidden and I never got a really clear look. I hoped they were around somewhere; their points of view would be a great addition to the footage I was able to get as an outsider. Hell, that thought still tripped me up.

It was late in the afternoon, close to when we were planning to pack up for the day, that something caught my attention. I wasn't watching any of my camera feeds too closely by that time, having been running mostly on autopilot for the past couple of hours. Even excitement can get boring if there's not much variation. I couldn't say exactly what dragged me out of my daze - maybe it was how the guy moved or the weird, blocky shape of his body - but when I scanned back to figure out what I'd seen, the malice in his gaze was clear. And it was directed at the captain.

In that moment, it felt like time slowed to a crawl. I was able to take note of our surroundings, realizing that most of the crowd had dispersed and even the barricades had been cleared away, leaving only a handful of guards standing near the entrance to the hospital itself. The captain had sent the rest of the crew to settle into that night's location about an hour before, just me and him sticking around to wrap up his final coverage of the day. There was nobody between the man and us, no one else nearby at all. The guy had chosen his moment well and if my camera had moved a little faster or slower or not been at the right angle, things might have gone very differently.

Then time snapped back and suddenly the man was standing just meters away, opening his coat to reveal the bomb strapped to his chest. He yelled something that I didn't hear over my own shout of warning as I jumped, knocking the captain to the floor and covering him with my body. A giant fist punched me in the ribs and everything went dark.