Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again.

Chapter 727: The dead, outnumbered the survivors.

The teams scrambled into action, their boots splashing through the red puddles. Hades, Carson, and Father Nicodemus followed the boy into the dark lobby of the building. Inside, the air was thick and tasted like copper. As their eyes adjusted, they heard it_ the chorus of the dying. Painful moans drifted from every corner.

"In here! I need a medic!" Carson yelled over the radio, spotting a woman slumped against a desk.

The rescue teams rushed in, lifting people onto stretchers. "Hold on, buddy," one medic said to a man whose arm was barely attached. "We’ve got you. Stay with me."

It was a chaotic, heartbreaking scene. There were many wounded people, with gashes and rips on different parts of their body. Most were so skinny that skin was hanging off their frames.

For the healthy residents of Fortress four, this was a sight that evoked relief and guilt. They could only imagine how bad it was for people out there. They had lucked out by joining the fortress in time.

Father Nicodemus tried hard not to cry or question his faith. He looked at the pitiful bottle of holy oil he had carried, to give last rites. He sighed and put it away.

Some survivors died right there as they were being wheeled out, their hearts simply giving up. Others called out for wives or husbands who were clearly never coming back. A few were talking gibberish, their minds broken by the sight of the fish-creatures, their eyes darting to the shadows as if expecting the monsters to leap out again.

"She’s here," the boy said, stopping near a row of cubicles.

The moment they saw her, the air left the room. There was no "saving" this. A deep cut ran across her stomach, almost splitting her in half. She was pale, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, long gone.

Hades felt a surge of hot, angry grief. He turned away for a second to compose himself, then squatted back down in front of the boy.

"What’s your name, son?"

"Alvin," the boy said, looking at his feet.

"Well, Alvin," Hades said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "You’re a tough one. How did you stay safe? How did you survive those things?"

Alvin looked at his mother’s body. "Mommy hid me inside her dress. She told me to stay very still and play the quiet game. I only came out when it was quiet."

Hades nodded, his heart shattering. He reached out and gently patted the boy’s shoulder. "You did a good job, Alvin. The best job. You won the game, but your mommy is gone unfortunately but we will take very good care of you. Your mommy saved you so that we would find you and take you to safety."

The boy started crying.

Nurse Kendall appeared, her face a mask of professional calm despite the tears in her eyes. She took Alvin’s hand. "Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you cleaned up. I think I have some chocolate in my bag."

Alvin went without a fight, but he didn’t look like a child anymore. He walked like an old man, traumatized and hollow.

Carson watched them go, let out a loud, ragged sigh, and shook his head. "That kid will never be the same, I hate this, Hades. I hate what the world has turned into. We need to fry those fucking birds for what they have done to us."

"Yeah, when my wife patches the sky, we will slaughter them. At least your blood has healed many or at least it will buy them time to get treatment." Hades replied, though his own voice felt heavy.

They spent the next several hours in a blur of motion. They managed to pull just over five hundred survivors from the ruins_ a tiny fraction of the millions who had once lived there. The wounds were severe, from being bitten, trampled or shoved to the ground.

Then came the grim part. The corpses. They didn’t even try to count them; there were too many. Men, women, and children_ all of them victims of a world gone bad. They piled them in the center of the city and began the mass cremations. The smoke rose thick and black into the sky, a funeral pyre for a city that had died in a single day.

"I need a drink," Carson muttered, watching the flames. He tried to light a cigarette, but his hands were shaking too much. "Hey, Father, you got any of that ’holy water’ left? Or maybe something stronger?"

Father Nicodemus looked at him with a tired, sad smile. "I think the Lord would forgive us for using a bit of whiskey today, Carson." He handed Carson a flask that had formerly been in Elio’s hands.

"Amen to that," Carson sighed and took a gulp.

More reinforcements arrived as the sun began to set, to decontaminate the city. The engineering teams were already setting up the bubble and communication towers. This was now their territory. They had reclaimed Iron Wood City, but the victory felt like ashes in their mouths.

At around midnight, Hades stood on the steps of the river bank, watching the blue light of the shield flicker to life. He looked at the blood on his own boots and the smoke on the horizon. He had taken the city, but he didn’t like the way they had taken it. He didn’t like the price, even though the damage had not been done by them.

"I feel like a king of a graveyard," he whispered to the wind.

"Better than being the one in the grave," Carson said, appearing at his side. He finally got his cigarette lit. He took a long drag and coughed. "We’ll rebuild it, sir. We’ll scrub the blood and flesh off the walls, we’ll fix the plumbing, and maybe we’ll even plant some flowers, at least we saved some of them."

Hades looked at his friend. "Not enough Carson."

"It will never be enough." Carson replied, handing him the cigarette, which Hades turned down.

At the riverbanks, the food relief team began to give out food to those that could eat, a small smile touched his lips when he saw smiles on the faces of the survivors. He wondered how they were able to smile through such misery.

Perhaps, they were too relieved to be alive, or too tired of crying to do so anymore.

He thought of his wife’s trip and its purpose. Fingers crossed, it would be a successful one and the sky would be patched up as soon as next week.