Meadow crouched by a pile of rubble, slowly sifting through it as she looked for things to salvage. The pile was right by the library. I honestly don't know what Meadow was looking for, but I saw her eyes widen and her jaw drop when she brushed aside some debris. Meadow gulped, calling me over quickly. "Seth, hurry, quickly!" She yelped as I knelt down beside her.
"What?" I asked, worry filling my eyes.
She simply stared at me, her cheeks pale and her eyes slowly filling up with tears. As her head turned, I let mine drift along, settling my gaze on a small, quivering hand that was coming out from beneath the lump of destroyed building. I held my breath, swallowing the only remaining air in my mouth as I tried to contemplated what to do. Without thinking, I plunged my hands inside the pile, quickly uncovering the body that lay beneath the cold, black coals.
I pulled out a motionless body, one that was hardly three feet tall and less than a foot wide. It was a child. The kid was covered in scars and cuts, his original clothing burned off, leaving him completely naked. Meadow gasped at the sickening sight of the injured child, covering her eyes as I cradled the dying child in my arms.
"Can you hear me?" I whispered in the child's ear, setting him on the ground carefully. I took off my coat, laying it on top of the boy to warm him.
He rustled the wilted grass beneath him as the boy shivered. Thankfully, he was still alive. "Hello?"
Opening his droopy eyes, the boy blinked, heaving a breath of air into his lungs. He nodded, hazily blinking a few times before closing his eyes. The boy moaned quietly, rolling his head slightly to the left before opening his mouth again.
"Hi," he said, gasping for breath as soon as the word left his lips.
I didn't know what to do. What was I supposed to do? Let him die in silence or talk to him? I decided on the latter.
"Hi," I responded, running my hand across the boy's forehead, wiping off more of the ash, "I'm Seth. And you are?"
His eyes fluttered open, staring at me curiously. "B-b-b-bernard."
I smiled weakly, attempting to keep my lips from not shaking. "Nice to meet you. How are you?"
I decided to keep the conversation casual, not bringing up any solemn subects.
The boy sighed, groaning in pain. I shook my head. "Understood."
Suddenly tearing up, the kid muttered a few words, "Will you tell my mommy?"
I took in a deep breath, about to ask what I should tell her when I realized what he was asking of me. What a curious thing for a young child to ask for when they're dying.
The boy heaved again, coughing out miniscule specks of dust and ash. Meadow whimpered behind me, nuzzling her head in my arm. Closing slowly, the boy's eyes clamped shut, his head rolling to the opposite side. Once his breathing stopped, I picked him up, carrying the frail little child back to the pile of rubble, burying him underneath. Meadow and I proceeded to make an inscription on a piece of shrapnel, using charcoal, that read: Here lies Bernard, who's last thoughts were about his mother.