It was at this point that Chloe blacked out. All there was to her was an endless black void. She wasn’t sure if she was dead or not. The blackness began dizzily giving way to sensation. It was still very black but she could feel something rough against her cheek. She felt it… stone, and as she moved her head, small slivers of light. Where was she? How long had she been out?

The gravel!

The truck!

She had to get out of here; it wasn’t safe. That was all she knew. She squirmed out from under the weight of the man. He seemed so rigid, and she could hear him groaning through his teeth. She crawled out from under the truck, banging her head against the fender. She didn’t care. Her head, along with her entire body, felt numb, which only made her feel dizzy. The faint whistling returned, but seemed to grow louder much more quickly. Chloe panicked and didn’t run to the building across the street so much as stagger, clutching her forehead which was wet with blood (whether it was hers or the partisan’s she couldn’t tell).

She looked back. That was a mistake. Both the truck and the surrounding pavement disintegrated before her eyes spraying shrapnel everywhere. Bits of metal and slag flew all over and one piece zinged right past her eye. It stung horribly. Chloe, clutching her eye with her already bloody hand, ran half blind through the shattered door of the building. She did manage to see the black shadow of a jet as it roared past.

After blinking she removed her hand from her eye. It was fine, and though she had to squint she could see just fine. She saw briefly where she was. It was some kind of bookstore with books strewn among the broken shards of glass and plaster dust.

BANG!!!

Another blast threw her down, this time much closer. This time she didn’t black out, but was worried that her head might crack open any minute. After running her hands through her hair, she felt lots of cuts and bruises but otherwise felt fine. She did notice, however, that bits of plaster fell on her head as part of the roof caved in. Some of the walls had collapsed.

She scampered through the broken glass and dust and crawled under the tilting counter. Curling up under it, she hid herself, hoping it would stop. It was then that she noticed she was trembling. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t cold. But she was afraid. Afraid that she was trapped, that there was nothing left to do until somebody got her. How would she help her parent… her parents!

She forced herself to sit up, her whole body aching. Her head especially felt like it had been hit with a hammer. She staggered out of the building and around the corner to see a massive billowing tower of smoke. In place of the familiar buildings of her neighborhood stood unrecognizable piles of rubble and twisted metal. What structures were still standing had walls and roofs collapsed.

Oh I hope that my own house isn’t where that smoke is, she thought to herself. With a lump in her throat she ran back toward her house to discover with horror that she couldn’t see it through all the smoke. She couldn’t tell if she couldn’t see it or if it simply wasn’t there. She tried to run toward it but stopped. The smoke and ash stabbed her lungs and she couldn’t breathe. It was as if the air was simply too heavy. The heat from the fire seared her face, hands, and feet, and she stumbled backwards to get away from it.

“Mom? Dad?” she cried, hoping for an answer. They were okay, she thought. They must have survived. After all, they were both sheltered in the basement. Her mom was still there, and the partisans probably forced her dad to go back. “Momma!” she screamed into the smoke, trying not to cough. “Daddy!” She didn’t even know if she expected an answer. She tried to swallow but fear choked her dust covered throat. It would be okay, she though, her eyes tearing up. They might be hurt and need help. But at the end of it all, she would see them again.

But what if she wouldn’t? That nagging doubt clawed at her mind. She fought back tears. No, she mustn’t think like that. She walked toward an alley with still-standing structures and sat down. She was visibly shaking now. Her arms, hands, and jaw… She was terrified. Lying down she tried to comfort herself. All she could do was wait.

It seemed like a tortuously long time before the smoke died down. Off in the distance gunfire started up again. Chloe got up and looked around. No one to be seen, but she must be careful. Hunching over so as not to get caught, she rushed over to her block. Her heart sank. It too was reduced to a mass of charred blackened rubble. It was still smoldering, but just barely.

Fear turned to panic. She ran towards her house, climbing over still hot slabs of rock. The smell of sulfur was overpowering, and she tried not to gag. Some of the slabs of concrete were way too huge, so she tried to find her way among the smaller piles. Once she climbed over, what she saw shocked her. Half of the street was simply gone, just a black crater. She almost stopped her search in bile fascination of just how different everything looked. She almost couldn’t quite tell where her flat was.

Her pulse raced and her stomach felt queasy. What felt enormously out of place was an utter lack of people in a place that was crowded not too long ago. Apart from the occasional gunshot it was completely silent. She moved down the ruble pile and tried to pull some of the debris away hoping to find her parents. But try as she might, most of it was too heavy for her.

“Mom! Dad!” she yelled hoping desperately for an answer. She pulled with all her might and dislodged a large piece of stone. It almost fell on top of her. More rubble. “Mom…” she said, more softly this time, choking on tears. It was barely a whisper this time. Nothing. She tried to remove more of the debris to little success. She felt herself physically weaken, her knees knocking together and her arms barely able to lift anything.

Then the doubt in her mind came back with full force. This couldn’t be. She had to find them somewhere. She scurried over to one of the smaller piles and began to dig rather than lift. She had more success in lifting up the top debris and managed to dig a sizeable tunnel. It wasn’t enough to save anyone, but maybe it was enough to find them. And all the while she tentatively called out in whimpering voice, pleading for her parents to say something…

Chloe screamed. There in the darkness of the tunnel she found a black shape. Superficially it resembled a person, but it was a twisted, charred hulk with no discernible head or… anything really. What limbs she could make out lay shrunken and indistinguishable from the twisted metal mess. It may have been either a partisan or a parent, Chloe couldn’t tell. She couldn’t bear to look and vomited at the sight. Her first instinct was to try to run, but she couldn’t. Her legs wouldn’t let her.

Then she knew. Her parents were gone. Panic turned to despair as she worried rather selfishly who would take care of her. Who would feed her? Where would she stay? The tears she so desperately fought back finally came through. Throwing her face onto the ground she began to sob and moan. She couldn’t control herself. She just lay there. Fears of self-preservation eventually waned as she thought of all the times she had with her parents. She realized she would never again have her father’s smiling face greet her as she came home from school. Never again would her mother hug her warmly after waking up from a nightmare. She would never be able to joke or talk or play with them again. They weren’t ever going to see each other again. She was now and truly alone.