Water in Shaft 37

Marcus raised his extinguisher and advanced. In the shadows stood a woman holding a boy of about eight or nine. The child’s face was flushed, lips split, eyes unfocused. The woman wore a Water Department jacket, but a hospital access card hung from her neck. “Don’t come closer,” she said. “Who are you?” Marcus asked. “Lena. Pump station duty.” She clutched the child tighter. “The people upstairs said the hospital was being sealed. The people downstairs said there was water in the shaft. If you’re here to take it, I’ll shut every valve in here.” “We’re not here to take it,” Erin said, stepping forward and stopping. “What’s wrong with him?”