Prisoners of Sol - Girret Storm Riders (7/11)

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My squadmates and I scouted Ekpan’s layout as the fire roared around us, rushing forward. Our augmented reality visors displayed the various localities of the city, and I was grateful that every inch of our bodies were covered in protective gear. Burning alive was a horrific death, which whoever we were unable to get to might face; they didn’t have protective gear to shield them. I spotted an orphanage further down the street, highlighted as a mass gathering center. I gestured to Narol in a frenzy, knowing that had to be our target.

Smoke swirled everywhere as we screeched to a halt, inches from the door; before the vehicle had stopped moving, I dove out with a fire blanket firmly clutched in my grip. Children’s voices echoed over the crackling of air bubbles from behind us, as buildings burned and were torn through. It was a few minutes of driving back through the fire wall, to carry our passengers out and bring more. I flagged down a caretaker and was met by joyous cheering, once the stranded townsfolk realized that the Storm Riders had arrived to save them. Pride swelled in my chest, remembering that that was the greeting I’d always imagined.

We need to get a headcount and to hurry along. Starting with the little ones, hopefully we can back them into the sandglider, the smallest atop any adults if necessary.

“Follow the nice…Storm Riders!” The adult coughed and felt me, before helping wave the children back out toward the entrance. Coughs rattled in her chest from the acrid air. “They’re going to get us out of here.”

I checked that my gear was sealed, as I spotted flames right across the street; I hoped my suit would hold out for a little burning, because I had to clear the building. Narol rushed in to scoop up the toddlers, and I could see the affection in the gentle way he held them. They reminded my squadmate of his nephew, since children were bundles of innocence and cuteness. I imagined this would be a night that would burn as a formative memory, but they’d be alive to tell the story of how we saved them all. Tunia, a bit more cowardly, stayed back in the wrapped sandglider and helped the children get in.

I ordered them to squish together and herded the adult in, despite her protests; we were practically throwing the orphanage’s inhabitants atop one another. The back row was almost full, but I could still count seven children crying and begging. The caretaker began to clamber out, though I immediately ordered her to stay put. Narol wrenched open the driver’s side and had one child face sideways, hugged up against Tunia. He hoisted another child into his arms and sat down in the driver’s seat, trying to stay upright to drive with a kid coiled on his back.

I turned to the rear seating area to figure out some spatial arrangement magic. My pupils could pick out children’s faces smushed against each other, so much so that I thought we pushed the limits of what could avoid suffocation. Nonetheless, I physically pushed them and made them contort into as cramped of an area as possible. My efforts fit one more kid in the back, before I wedged the door shut. Flame tendrils washed over the city in all directions, a few seconds from consuming any orphans we couldn’t fit inside. I had to make a decision.

“Narol, you take the kids and get them to safety! Don’t come back for me,” I insisted, grabbing the two oldest children with each arm and tossing them in my seat. There was another younger pair, who I placed on top of the duo despite the cramped space. “Get out of here! Go!”

Narol balked at the suggestion. “Redge, I’m not just going to leave you to—”

“You said to save as many people as possible, and this is it! Even if I’m not around to save others, they’re orphans. I’m happy to sacrifice myself. They’re literal children! We need to be what the people want, what they look up to. To truly be it! You go home to your nephew, your sister, you tell them that. I love you, brother. You’re the only family I ever had.”

“I love you too, brother. If you’re sure…”

“I am. Just go!”

“Good luck, Redge. You always cared far more about what they’d say whether you were around or not. I love you, and I hope you find your peace. I’ll tell everyone you were the most honorable Rider we’ve ever known.”

“As will I. The highest ears on Doros will hear of your valor,” Tunia said. “That much, you deserve.”

The sandglider sped off to take the kids to safety, roaring through the hungry flames. It was a relief that they’d heeded my advice and not stuck around any longer, in this fiery hellscape. I sucked in deep breaths through my filtration mask and stood still for a second; it was debatable whether it was worth it to even try to run, but something in my survival instincts had me coiling my way out of there. Much like when I’d been buried alive rescuing the old man, I felt content with the decision I’d made and the lives that were saved from one person’s sacrifice. My squadmates would speak of me well, and my life would’ve been given to a reasonable cause.

The orphanage was engulfed by the inferno as I ran deeper into it, and I found myself surrounded on all sides. The fire had latched onto the stucco walls of the building, and the siding melted and peeled before my eyes. The heat was palpable even through layers of protective gear, causing adrenaline to rush through my blood; try as I might to find an escape, I already knew that there was none to be found. Trapped with no way out, resignation set in to the idea that I was going to die here, in the Storm Riders’ service.

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A/N - 7! Redge and his Storm Rider squad make a break for the orphanage, as flames are right on their heels in all directions. With not enough room in the sandglider and only the hope that their protective gear can hold out for any length of time, Redge decides to remain behind so that all of the children can be fit into the vehicle. Do you think that this will cement Redge's reputation in legend, regardless of whether he lives or somehow makes it out? Is there any hope of escaping such a catastrophic situation?

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