When Grace and Dustin led the rescue team into the slums of Harbortown, the sight that greeted them left them stunned.
The muddy ground behind the wooden walls was soaked in filth and stank of rot. Dozens of people were crammed inside like caged animals. Their eyes were dull and empty, filled with nothing but numbness and despair.
Some wore nothing but rags, while others were stripped to the waist. Their emaciated frames cast ghastly shadows under the dim light.
In one corner, a gray-haired elderly man lay curled up on the ground. His legs were rotting, with white maggots crawling in the wounds, yet he seemed numb to the pain. With trembling, bone-thin hands, he kept scooping mud from the ground and stuffing it into his mouth.
Nearby, a young woman clung tightly to her child’s lifeless body. The little girl’s face was grayish-blue, with dried black foam at the corners of her mouth.
The woman kept stroking her daughter’s cold cheeks, murmuring, “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll take you home. We’re going home…”
But her voice was dry and cracked. Her tears had long dried up, leaving only a hollow, vacant look in her eyes.
Not far away, several burly men were fighting over half a moldy cornbread roll. Their faces and arms were covered in cuts and bruises. Still, they snarled and clawed like that last scrap was the last hope left on Earth.
One man suddenly slammed another to the ground, then sank his teeth into the man’s neck. Blood sprayed across the onlookers’ faces, but none of them flinched. They just stood there, watching indifferently.
It was still raining, and the icy water poured down on the frail civilians, leaving them trembling in the cold.
A young man clutched a baby to his chest, wrapping the child in his thin, tattered shirt. The baby’s cries were barely audible, lost beneath the sound of falling rain.
Sweat dripped from the man’s forehead as he tried to warm the baby’s tiny hands with his breath. Each exhale grew more desperate, but the cries slowly faded until they completely stopped.
He froze.
Then, suddenly, he let out a heart-wrenching scream, filled with endless pain and despair. In the dead silence of the slum, the sound was especially jarring.
Grace clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her nails dug into her palms until blood seeped between her fingers. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she refused to let them fall.
“Those bastards,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice trembling with fury and grief.
The sight hit Dustin harder than he expected. He’d seen his share of bloodshed, more than most men ever would, but the hellscape before him still shook him.
He drew a slow breath to steady himself and said quietly, “Let’s help them first.”
Grace snapped out of her daze. She wiped the corner of her eye and ordered, “Rescue teams, listen up. Move in and help the people now.”
At her command, the standby teams jumped into action. Medics carrying supply kits pushed through the crowd, tending wounds and administering medicine to those infected.
But there were too many in need. The medics couldn’t keep up. No sooner had they finished treating one person than several more would collapse nearby.
The soldiers hauling supplies were gasping for breath. Crates of medicine, food, and clean water were brought in one after another. However, it was never enough, as the demand far outpaced what they could provide.
They had to guard against panicked civilians rioting over the supplies while trying to distribute everything as quickly as possible. Exhaustion was written across every face.
Grace personally oversaw the rescue efforts. One moment she was urging medics to watch their safety, the next she was ordering soldiers to reinforce the wooden walls in case of collapse. Her voice was hoarse from giving orders.
Sweat gathered on her brow, and her rain-soaked clothes clung to her skin, but she never slowed down. Her eyes still burned with unshakable resolve.
Dustin didn’t just stand by and watch, either. He joined the rescue effort and did everything he could to save more lives with his medical skills.
Even though they had come prepared, the hellish reality still left them scrambling. But there was no other choice. They had to save whoever they could, however they could.
This was a race against death. Every second mattered because every delay meant another life lost. Under Grace’s leadership, the medics worked around the clock to treat the wounded and the infected.
The slum was drowning in despair, but a faint spark of hope still clung on. It was kept alive only by those who refused to give up.
