Water in Shaft 37

Lena looked at her like she was deciding whether she was the kind of person who only said kind things or the kind who actually meant them. At last she said, “Heat cramps. A car flipped halfway down South District. The driver ran. He was on that car.” Lin noticed white powder on her shoes, the residue of dried fire foam. More important, the boy’s wrist carried a blue pediatric hospital band. “Where did you get him?” he asked. “From the street,” Lena said. “The state roadblocks are outside. They called it a priority cooling zone. Nobody was supposed to leave. Meanwhile they drained two-thirds of the backup water out of the pump station.” “Why tell us?” Lin asked. Lena looked at him with the kind of exhaustion that had already turned into anger.