Reno nodded.
John handed it to him. “There’s no safety. Just point and shoot. But you be damn sure of what you’re firing at before you pull that trigger.”
Reno looked at the gun before stuffing it into the back of his waistband and clicking on the flashlight.
John stepped up on the curb to address the others. “We’ll spread out, then meet back here in forty.”
Everyone nodded, then headed in different directions. Reno walked down the road on his right, Brandau Street, and moved a block down before crossing over. Like most of what he’d seen already, it was almost impossible to recognize what had been there.
The rubble of the Parthenon sat in hunks of concrete the size of mid-sized cars. Wires and pipes shot out like wild whiskers from the faces of dead beasts. Pockets of fire burned within the rubble and the fractured, raw obelisk burned at the top, reminding Reno of the eternal flames of flare stacks that reach high above oil refineries. He didn’t see any aliens, and unfortunately the only people he saw were dead.
An occasional scream or gunshot punctured the hissing and crackling of the fires. Reno smelled burning flesh and natural gas, both causing his stomach to turn.
A long time ago, and throughout his time as a paramedic, Reno had trained himself to block out the traumatic stimuli of an accident. But this one was pushing him to the edge of what he could absorb. He brought a shaky hand to his forehead and looked around. How was he supposed to find anyone in this mess? He felt ill-prepared without Maya. She was his partner, and he’d gotten used to having her at his side when doing his job. At that moment, more than any others since they’d parted ways, he wished she were there. But Reno forced her from his thoughts, realizing he had to concentrate on what was in front of him because not being entirely focused could cost him his life. Catastrophes weren’t only a matter of life and death for those directly involved in accidents, but also for those trying to help.
He started lifting debris, silently praying that he would find someone, anyone, beneath it. His training kicked in and his mechanical, methodical mind took over. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and he paid little attention to the emotional impact of the explosion and instead focused on the search and rescue mission John had initiated. Reno threw debris out of the way, thrusting his flashlight and his head into the crevasses, hoping to hear a cry for help or see the glow of a phone in a person’s hand.
After several minutes of digging by hand, Reno pulled a hunk of drywall aside and then stood up straight. He put his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. And then he heard a groan. Reno pointed his flashlight in the direction of the sound. A hand extended out of the rubble, dirty and bloody fingers in the air.
“I see you! Hold on!”
Moving across the pile of debris, Reno hurried to the person trapped beneath it. One slip and he could become trapped himself, but he didn’t care. If he could save one person, then he could claim at least one victory from this disaster.
The arm had dropped, resting on the destruction covering the person. Reno pulled away pipes, wires, and hunks of stone until he could see a head, then a torso.
“I’m here. I’m going to get you—” Reno lifted part of a wall from off the person and saw a familiar face looking up at him.
“Jack?”
The man opened his bloodshot eyes. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his face covered in dirt and ash. Reno couldn’t believe it, and apparently Jack couldn’t, either.
“Reno?”
Reno dropped to his knees and put his hand on Jack’s head.
“We’re gonna get you out of here, Jack.” Reno turned around and called out to the other nearby officers. “Help! I’ve got one over here!”
When he looked back down, Jack shook his head.
“You’re not saving me.”
“You’re not gonna die here.”
Jack looked down, and for the first time Reno saw the bright orange glow of the jagged end of a copper pipe sticking out of the man’s chest—covered in bright, red blood.
“Yes, I am,” Jack said.
Reno had enough field experience to know there was no saving him. Under ordinary circumstances, he’d have done everything he could to save Jack despite the mortal wound. But normal had been locked out of Nashville when the dome fell.
“I need you to listen to me, Reno. Just listen.”
“I’m listening.”
Jack coughed. “I…I’m the one who blew this thing up. I know how to take these bastards down.”
Reno leaned in as Jack coughed again, blood now coming in rivulets from the corners of his mouth.
“Their power source. The source. Geothermal. Overheat the radiator; seize the engine.”
“What does that mean?”
“The engine runs the dome. Beneath the obelisk. They need…they need the dome to block the sun.”
Jack was fading fast, and Reno began asking questions faster.
“How did you figure all that out?”
Jack cracked a smile. “I didn’t. Maya did. Her Mustang. Same…same design flaw as their dome.”
Reno’s throat went dry at the mention of his partner. His hands shook.
“Maya? She helped you? Where is she now?”
Jack shook his head, more bloody coughs spitting out of him. “I don’t know if she got out. I…I didn’t bring the dome down, but I think I might have given her a small window to get out.”
Reno held his breath. “Do you know where she was headed?”
“Her mom’s?”
Reno swallowed, and Jack took his hand. A cool, metallic object landing in Reno’s palm made him look down. “What’s this?”
“Good-luck charm. Boardwalk token from Atlantic City. Had it since ’76. Yours now. It…it’ll keep you safe.”
Reno smiled and put the token in his pocket when Jack spoke again.
“Finish it. Take the dome down. T—tell others. Save what’s left of this city. Find Maya. She’ll fight those assholes.”
Reno squeezed Jack’s hand. “I will. I promise.”
Jack’s mouth fell slack, and his head lolled back as he stared blankly into Reno’s eyes.
“Jack?”
Reno placed his fingers on Jack’s neck, but he couldn’t detect a pulse. He closed Jack’s eyes, the only act of respect he could bestow on the dead man’s body given the situation. He deserved more, and someday, Reno would make sure everyone knew of Jack’s sacrifice.
“Goodbye, Jack. And thank you.”
Reno looked down and then away from Jack’s lifeless body, taking ten minutes to pull himself together before he heard people approaching. John and Woods came up beside him.
“You find a survivor?” John asked.
“He didn’t make it.”
“Shit,” Woods said. “We found one guy with only a few scratches. He got lucky. We haven’t found anyone else.”
“Keep looking. Then head back to the others and let them know what we’re doing,” Reno said to him before looking at John. “You and I have to go.”
John stepped back. “Go? Where?”
“Do you know where the closest National Guard checkpoint might be?”
“Sure, there’s one on the other side of the river. But why? Gonna be hell getting over there.”
“I’ll explain on the way, but we need to get there right now.”
3
“Are you sure this is going to work?” John asked as he pulled up to the National Guard checkpoint.
“I am.”
Even though Reno had said the words with confidence, he couldn’t be sure. He’d hardly known Jack, and during most of the short time that he had known him, Reno had thought the guy to be nothing but a crazy prepper—like the kind you heard about on the news because he had 400 grenades hidden in a bunker beneath his patio. But while he’d been just that, that fact didn’t mean that he hadn’t been telling the truth. In that moment, why would he have lied? And if he hadn’t been lying, Reno would make sure everyone knew that the man who’d helped save the world was Jack.