Debris crunched beneath a workers feet as he trudged through the wreckage, looking for a sign. A sign of anything. A sign of life. Though he knew that his wishes were in vain.
"We've been at this for days now. If there was someone left, we would have found them by now" The guy shouted at his superior.
"It was a large building. Lots of layers of debris. Someone could be trapped underneath, so we got to keep looking. Just do your job, Bran." His superior snapped at him. He understood that every life was precious, but this was just wasting time. Hours went by as the sun began to set. Bran, along with a handful of other workers, back tracked over the same areas over and over again, seeing the same as they had before. Nothing but rubble and the remains of what had stood proudly before the big accident. No survivors were found. Not even the remains of a single person had been located. No one to tell the story of what happened. All the town knew, was that one night, everything laid to waste. An explosion erupted at one of the governments labs in Nebraska. It lit up the night like a thousand suns, without so much as a sound. Most slept soundly through it, but when the sun rose the next morning, nothing but destruction awaited. Everything within a 2 mile radius had been destroyed. Only burnt rubble and ashes remained. Leaving everything to the imagination.
Just as the guys were about to call off the search, something caught the skeptical workers eyes. A red light flared in the middle of all the shattered pieces, about the size of a nickel. He would have thought it was just a piece of glass reflecting the sunlight and brushed it off, but the sun had long set, and there was nothing to cause a reflecting light. Reluctantly, he walked over to the pile of ash that lay in the center of everything. The closer he got, the warmer he felt. Not physically warmer. Warmer on the inside. The night breeze didn't stand a chance against this new found warmth. Once he was close enough to see something sticking out of the pile of ash, a wave of mixed emotions swept over him. He could see a small arm, most likely the arm of a child. It was still, so he was unsure of whether they were alive. He was unsure how to feel. On one hand he was relieved that there was someone found. On the other hand, they could be dead, which wouldn't change anything.
He tread carefully, being careful not to step on whomever was underneath his feet. He bent over to grab hold of the arm, to pull them free from the rubble. However, the next few seconds turned to a blur. One second he was looking down, the next he was staring face up at the starless sky, wind knocked out of him. He groaned, craning his neck for the cause. He saw a feral little girl. Frightened, but standing her ground. She looked no older than 8 years old, but that could have been a clear misconception due to her current condition and malnutrition. She was extremely frail, covered in ash and old blood not seemingly hers. Her brunette hair was a matted mop resting on her shoulders, and all she had to wear was an old tunic, looking to be no more than a simple piece of cloth just pinned together to look like a dress. Her most unique
feature, however, was the scar left in the middle of her chest. It wasn't the usual flesh pink color, but a bright red shade, in the shape of a gemstone.
She crouched there with her arms out in defense, though something was off. She looked at the man in confusion, but worse yet, she looked around her in even more horror. She didn't seem to know where she was.
Bran slowly got to his feet, making sure to keep his arms up peacefully. "Hey, it's okay, i'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help. Can you tell me where we are?"
The girl just stared blankly. A minute of silence passed without an answer.
"Okay, uhm, why don't you tell me your name then" He kept his distance. The girl looked with her mouth hung open, and in the most broken whisper, said only one word that day. "E-Estera."