The World Ends In 27 Days

Jingwei’s chest tightened until every breath hurt.

Zhiyi lay beneath the debris with her eyes closed, her face barely visible behind a visor coated in dust. Even the medical display inside Jingwei’s helmet showed five active readings instead of six.

Hanchuan stood less than a meter from her. He had reached toward Zhiyi when the debris began falling, but his hand remained suspended as though the moment had stopped before he could touch her.

Jingwei forced his legs to move.

"Zeyu, shut down the command vehicle," he ordered as he crossed the damaged ground as quickly as he could. "Shichen, make sure nothing else can fall. Qinghe, bring the emergency equipment outside."

The barked commands seemed to have been enough to break the others free from their shock. Zeyu ran toward the vehicle while Shichen raised his tablet and scanned the fractured approach. Qinghe disappeared from the northern airlock.

But Hanchuan still hadn’t moved.

Jingwei dropped beside Zhiyi and began clearing the debris surrounding her helmet. The soil had packed tightly against her neck and shoulders, leaving no room to determine whether her chest was moving.

"Zhiyi." He struck the side of her helmet with his palm. "Open your eyes."

She didn’t respond.

He tried her communications channel, but the broken suit transmitted nothing. His fingers dug into the hot soil until pain reached him through his gloves.

Hanchuan finally lowered his hand.

"She’s dead," he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking. "Again, she died before me... for the second time. Why?"

Jingwei looked up sharply. He had never heard that emptiness in his friend’s voice. Hanchuan wasn’t looking at the woman buried in front of him. He was staring at something that had already happened that only they knew about.

"You don’t know that," Jingwei told him, his voice sharp and brutal. "Help me uncover her."

Hanchuan’s gaze remained fixed on Zhiyi’s face. "I watched her die."

"Not this time."

Jingwei seized Hanchuan’s wrist and dragged his hand toward the debris. The contact seemed to pull him back into his body. He fell to his knees beside Zhiyi and tore at the soil with both hands.

Shichen stopped him before he could disturb the concrete across her chest.

"The trench is supporting part of the weight." He crouched on Zhiyi’s other side and studied the readings on his tablet. "If we remove the wrong section first, the larger pieces will settle against her."

Hanchuan turned on him with an expression Jingwei had only seen directed at enemies. "Then tell us which section."

Shichen marked a line through the debris. "Clear behind her helmet and along her right shoulder. Leave everything below that point until Qinghe examines her."

Qinghe arrived carrying a rigid stretcher and two medical cases.

He dropped beside Zhiyi, swept the remaining soil from the lower edge of her helmet and pressed a portable scanner against the exposed side of her neck.

Everyone watched the small screen.

"No response from the suit," Qinghe reported as he adjusted the scanner. "The connection must have been severed."

"Is she breathing?" Hanchuan demanded.

"I can’t tell while her chest is buried," answered Jingwei, his chest feeling so constricted that he didn’t even know if he could breathe, let alone Zhiyi.

"Then find her pulse," hissed Hanchuan back.

Nodding his head, Qinghe moved the scanner higher. Several seconds passed before a faint rhythm appeared across the display.

"She has one," he said after a moment, and everyone seemed let out a breath of relief.

Everyone but Hanchuan.

He had stopped breathing all together.

The rhythm disappeared, then returned when Qinghe shifted the scanner by a fraction. It was weak and far too slow, but it existed.

"Zhiyi is alive," Qinghe confirmed. "We need to relieve the pressure without moving her spine."

Jingwei had thought the words would loosen the terror constricting his chest. Instead, they made his hands shake badly enough that he pressed them against the ground before anyone noticed.

Relief could wait until Zhiyi opened her eyes.

Shichen directed them around the larger pieces of concrete while Zeyu brought the stretcher closer. They cleared the debris by hand because using the loader near her would risk driving more material into the trench.

Hanchuan worked without acknowledging the temperature warning inside his helmet. Every time Qinghe tried to check him, he moved farther around the mound and continued digging.

Jingwei finally caught his arm. "If you collapse, you’ll delay us."

Hanchuan looked at him as though he had spoken in another language.

"Zhiyi needs you conscious," Jingwei added.

That reached him. Hanchuan dismissed the warning and returned to the debris, but his movements became more controlled.

They uncovered Zhiyi’s shoulders first. One side of her cooling suit had collapsed beneath the weight, and the damaged unit no longer circulated coolant. Qinghe connected an emergency pack before allowing them to continue.

A dark mark spread beneath the transparent material near her collarbone.

Hanchuan saw it and looked toward Zeyu.

"We should never have recovered that vehicle," he hissed at the other man. "It’s not worth it. We survived before without it, would could have survived again."

Zeyu flinched but didn’t stop clearing the debris near Zhiyi’s legs. "I know."

"No, you don’t." Hanchuan’s voice sharpened until it cut through their headsets. "She is buried because you decided that machine mattered."

Zhiyi had decided to come outside, but none of them reminded him. Jingwei understood that Hanchuan wasn’t searching for the truth. He was searching for somewhere to put the terror he was feeling before it consumed him.

Shichen shifted another fragment away from Zhiyi’s side. "The vehicle was stable when it reached reinforced ground. I should have accounted for the material remaining on the roof."

"You designed the approach," Hanchuan replied. "You built the drainage trench. You should have accounted for all of it."

Shichen absorbed the accusation without defending himself.

"Hanchuan," Jingwei warned.

"My wife is unconscious beneath a shelter he designed and beside a vehicle Zeyu insisted on saving." Hanchuan returned to the debris surrounding Zhiyi. "Do not ask me to be reasonable."

No one did.

Once they uncovered her legs, Qinghe secured a brace around her neck and directed them to roll her far enough for Zeyu to slide the stretcher beneath her. Zhiyi made no sound as they lifted her from the trench.

Hanchuan stared at her motionless face. "Why isn’t she waking?"

"Because she has a head injury, and I cannot evaluate it out here." Qinghe secured the final strap across her waist. "Carry her inside."

Jingwei took the front of the stretcher while Zeyu lifted the rear. Hanchuan walked beside Zhiyi with one hand against her helmet, maintaining contact as they crossed the northern approach.

Shichen followed with the medical cases. Qinghe hurried ahead to open the airlock and prepare the cooling station.

Jingwei carried Zhiyi through the barrier while the outer door closed against the lethal heat. Only after the decontamination cycle began did Hanchuan allow Qinghe to remove her helmet.

Zhiyi’s head rolled toward him.

Hanchuan caught her face between both hands, but she didn’t react to his touch.

"What was the point?" he asked quietly.

No one answered because they understood that the question wasn’t meant for them.

Hanchuan lowered his forehead to hers while Qinghe prepared to move her into the medical room.

"I did everything to save you this time around," he whispered. "How could I still let this happen?"