Alter’s attention was split between the twin scenes happening directly in front and behind him. A small stampede was taking place as the crowd turned and ran for the perceived safety of the deeper alleyways. Panicked individuals pushed and shoved their way past those too stunned to move, their faces blank as they stared mutely towards the edge of the collapse. Among the human statues were those wearing the masks of the Free Feathers, none of which had fled. Ruffle remained at the fore, his body language tense and ready to explode forwards at any time. There appeared to be no immediate threat of aggression anymore, so Alter instead devoted his attention to the scene behind him.

  It was a small blessing that none of the buildings within the perimeter had fully collapsed, but more than one address was heavily damaged. A jagged, gouging crack had formed a rough crevice diagonally across the alley, perhaps two metres across at its widest part. Just beyond it lay a pile of brickwork rubble as part of the left building’s wall had collapsed outward, rooms on the ground and first floors lay exposed, the floors and ceilings mostly gone. An interior door was opened slightly, a small, terrified face peeked through with mouth agape. There were no further shudders coursing through the earth, however the sound of falling stone and wood still periodically crashed groundward. From further in, a pair of Winslow’s guards slowly emerged, stumbling towards him in an unsteady daze.

  “What the hell is going on over there?” Riptide roared through the radio, his voice barely managing to cut through the din, and even though his voice was loud Alter could still hear clamouring voices in the background.

  “Two, collapse the perimeter and get over here now!” Alter shouted back.

  He heard something that sounded like an affirmative response as he whirled around to face a trio of guards who were awkwardly standing behind them. Spotting that they were now the subject of his gaze, they quickly stood to attention, a professional veneer that almost disguised the fear and trepidation. Alter was having none of it as he jabbed a commanding finger at them before pointing down the ruined alley.

  “You two, grab your colleagues before they stumble blindly into that hole and get them to a safe distance. You, make your way back towards the safehouse and find out what condition it's in, then report back, go carefully now.” He ordered, and after taking a second to comprehend the men sprang into action. A moment later the rest of the squad came charging around another corner, coming to a skidding halt alongside him.

  “Oh what the hell is this?” Walross asked, his voice somewhere between a demand and a prayer.

  “Fucked. This is fucked.” Boozehound murmured unhelpfully in response.

  “As you can see, Gents, the situation has changed. Standby.” Alter growled at them before completing a full rotation to face the remnants of the crowd once more. “You, Ruffle, whatever the hell your real name is. These buildings could come down at any moment, we need to get all the people out as soon as possible. Understood?”

  “I, what? You think you can just order me around now?” Ruffle spluttered with indignation, but not conviction.

  “Wake up, man! Weren’t you just saying that these are all your people? There could be dozens of innocent folks trapped under a metre of masonry in there who may well die if no one reaches them in time. Also, you said it yourself, people here don’t trust the guard. There’s bound to be more than one stubborn or shell-shocked person who’ll refuse to head for safety if we’re the ones telling them to go. But you and your crew back there might be able to get through to them. Now are you helping or what?” Alter pressed angrily.

  “Right, right.” Ruffle buckled under the verbal barrage, he shook his head violently for a second before correcting his posture and turning to his followers. As the gang leader began rattling off instructions and sending masked men scampering away, Alter turned back to the squad.

  “Gentlemen, I am asking you to do something dangerous. As of this moment we are playing first responder, running into buildings that could potentially collapse on top of us in an effort to pull the hopefully still living out of the wreckage. Many well trained and equipped professionals have lost their lives doing this, so I’m not making this an order. Your decisions only.” He explained simply, watching the faces of his friends.

  There was no immediate response other than a small handful of grim expressions. Not waiting to find out the results of his proposal, Alter turned and began walking towards the building with the broken wall. A quick glance into the alleyway crack as he hopped over it yielded nothing other than loose rubble through which jutted ancient looking sewage pipes. No tunnel, no bodies, a small win if it could be called that. Then he was at the wall and its sorry looking interior. The crack continued through the exposed room, disappearing beneath an inner wall and deeper into the structure. The rest of the floor was covered in debris from the wall as well as the falling ceiling. Wooden furniture lay broken or completely smashed throughout, but again there was blessedly no sign of human life. The crunch of footfalls signalled the arrival of the squadmates brave enough to follow. Alter felt a small pang of pride as he saw that all had stepped forward, with Riptide at the head.

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  “Lieutenant, I am about to abandon my reasoning and common sense in favour of adrenaline-fueled desperation. Feel free to course-correct any of my more reckless actions as you see fit.” He politely informed him as the aforementioned chemical began to cause his hands to gently shake.

  Riptide took the news with a gracious nod before looking in turn to Boozehound. “Three, what he said.”

  Boozehound looked at the pair of them with eyes that screamed of desire for twenty-five cups of coffee and an intravenous drip. “In that case I’ll stay on the junction and direct traffic. Bring anyone you can find out to me for triage and I’ll pass them off to whoever shows up to help. But let me be clear I’m not exhausting my medical supplies on the wounded, only those in life-or-death situations. Anyone that can walk, starts walking. Understood?”

  “You’re the doc.” Alter relented, electing to ignore some of the connotations of his statement.

  “Well off you go then.” The medic remarked as he turned around. “I’m sure the half-buried people within are waiting quite patiently for your assistance.”

  Alter blew out a breath as he mentally plotted a course across the jagged and uneven floor. “Four and Seven with me, we take the first left. Two, Five and Six take the first right. Shout if you find stairs, trust your judgments and your guts, and let’s get moving.” He issued his final command before willing his legs into hurried motion.

  The six men managed to cross this first obstacle without incident. The door at the far end of the room was clearly a flimsy construction of cheap and chronically depressed wood. Perhaps it was simply the adrenaline acting for him but Alter was quick to forgo turning the handle in favour of a swift kick which sent it hurtling backward on its hinges. As he’d predicted, the doorway led into a corridor which ran both ways and he immediately cut to the left. As feared, the damage had indeed sewn chaos through the centre of the building as walls that were never designed to withstand such violent motions hadn’t withstood this test. Three figures were immediately within his field of vision, a shawled woman was helping a teenage girl with blood dripping down one leg, and through another collapsed wall a seemingly unconscious man was propped up against a splintered cabinet. Without needing orders Whim dashed to the side of the woman and began steering the pair towards their improvised entrance. Meanwhile, Boats scrambled towards the limp figure and crouched next to him. A moment later he held up a raised thumb before hoisting the man onto his shoulders and following the others out. Alter continued, following the corridor’s path as best he could. He opened every door, stuck his head through every hole, and called out for anyone needing help. Luckily, there was no one else on the ground floor, and as he ran out of corners to check the cry went up from the other team that the stairs had been found intact. He made for the noise as Whim reappeared through the kicked door.

  “Ruffle’s boys are back, they’re filtering into the surrounding houses to get people out like you asked. Didn’t see the man himself, and there’s no sign of the guard you sent to the target building yet. But Three’s got a good grip of things out there, so don’t worry about that.” He reported as they continued.

  Alter simply nodded along as they progressed until the stairwell came into view. Formed from a much more solid looking stone, the stairs may well have been one of the safest places in the building to have been when the tunnel collapsed. As they emerged onto the first floor they were met with Whim and Pavejack carrying a bloody-faced, spluttering man towards them on an improvised stretcher. Behind them, yet another wall had collapsed, giving Alter a view of the far exterior wall which had split apart as if struck by a woodsman’s axe.

  “More people in there, the door to the right!” Walross shouted as they passed by.

  Following the instruction, Alter and Whim entered another shattered room and were met with a sorry scene. Riptide was crouched next to the body of a young woman, his hands on her chest as he frantically attempted CPR. Next to him was a boy, likely aged somewhere between six and eight. The lad was frantic, his skin pale as a ghost as he clung to what Alter assumed to be his mother’s unresponsive hand. A quick glance further into the room revealed the cause to be a section of ceiling that had given way above a partially destroyed double bed. He winced and moved forward, Riptide gave him one glance and shook his head.

  “Take the kid!” He urged as a spine-chilling creaking and snapping noise signalled the imminent collapse of more of the ceiling.

  Alter swore and dragged the sobbing child into his arms, the boy resisted, refusing to let go of his mother’s hand but he wasn’t strong enough to keep his grip. Alter was dimly aware of a set of tiny fists striking weakly at the side of his head as he descended at speed and raced towards the alleyway. The cool of the night offered no comfort as he handed his unwilling passenger over to a surprised guard moving past before heading back in. Reaching the top of the stairs again he met Riptide exiting the room and wiping bloody palms against the wall.

  “Did you manage to get her awake?” Alter asked, already knowing the answer.

  Riptide looked at him, but before he could open his mouth to answer there was a great groaning and crashing sound as the promised drop happened, seemingly with enough force to break through and down to the already cleared ground floor.

  “Would it have mattered?” Riptide answered bitterly, looking away.

  “Hey, you two!” Whim shouted as he stuck his head out from around the next corner. “The top floor stairs are still usable. We haven’t got long, come on!”

  The pair set off after him without argument, soon finding themselves on the much more dangerous top floor, where every footstep could send them plummeting to their demise. But there was no time for such fears, only the sense of desperate duty.