Formerly titled: "Too Little, Too Late"
A Scene from the Disturbediverse Done in Four Narrative Drabbles
Characters © Tatsunoko Productions; Sandy Frank Enterprises.
Fanfiction © KFM January 2005 Please do not reproduce without permission.
Covering the side of one remaining building was a wall of the missing:
fliers, posters, and scraps of paper that bore scribbled descriptions
accompanying images of people who had once smiled for a camera.
There were hundreds of them taped or glued there, and on the walls
of other remaining buildings, there were hundreds, thousands more.
Standing beside this wall was G-Forcer Jun Himuro, dirty and exhausted,
her red leathers scraped and scarred from pounding ground combat,
witness to the carnage the mecha had left in its wake and the smoke
that boiled up from the canyons of the city.
Emergency personnel and military combed through the wreckage,
continuing their long search for survivors, although they now considered
the endeavor as more of a recovery effort than rescue. Jun saw this change
herself as the rotation of rescue teams moved in cadaver dogs, trained
to search for victims long since succumbed to crushing injuries and fire.
Jun silently mourned over each, for the mecha that had been immense
in its firepower had come with neither warning nor mercy, and every
defensive measure was rendered futile in response, and even as
G-Force had arrived they were still too little, too late.
Somewhere off to her left one of the dogs suddenly barked, and where
there should have been excitement and hope there was only dejection
that another face on the wall behind her would never live to smile again.
But then she heard the dog's handler shout in surprise, be echoed by
others scrambling to his position- a live one- we've got a live one! In as
much shock as urgency, Jun joined them, frantically digging, the dog
jumping and barking joyously in her ear, and there was a woman covered
in dust, broken and bleeding and squinting at the sun.
The woman was excavated and bandaged and she babbled her thanks
and her name, and as she was carried away rescuers clapped Jun's
shoulders and then moved on to search for more survivors, optimism
elevated and purpose reaffirmed. Their dogs padded tirelessly through
the wreckage, followed by handlers and medics and equipment operators
with their cranetrucks and cutting torches. The breeze ruffled the paper
on the wall of the missing and Jun paused before it, the many faces
smiling for a camera. After a long moment she found the one she was
looking for, and removed it from the wall.
(c) KFM, January 2005 Disturbed World Productions/Canon Fodder Inc.