I don't think we stand a chance up here. The soldiers are gone. The building is crumbling. Creatures have bombed the base, and we could fall at any moment. They said the safe place was meant to stand, but I'm starting to have doubts. Even if the building survives, what's to say that the Creatures make sure we don't?

I'll admit it-I'm scared. We all are. We've been left to our own devices up here, but what happens when we run out of food? Or the water's cut off, like all contact? Then what? There are so many ways we could die up here, and few ways we could survive. I know I'm suppose to keep hoping that we do, but how? How could I hold onto the sweet notion that we could make it through this War, when I've got a scar on my leg and a destroyed home leftover from the last time I believed it? What's to say we'll survive?

I close the notebook as the building sways again, throwing me off the window seat. I stand up with difficulty and look back out the window. Looking above, there's nothing but clouds and the sky, stained yellow. Stories say the sky was originally blue, but constant burning of fossil fuels turned it the nasty color it is now. It's hard to believe the sky was any color except yellow, but even harder to believe the stories that say in the most remote places, you could see some of the original color.

Looking below, I see the little dots that are soldiers and Creatures. A plume of grey rises up, and that's when I realize what's going to happen.

I burst into the hallway and ran into Elf. "Nate?" she asks, looking at my worried face. "What's wrong?"

I ignore her and pull her into the middle of the hallway. "Stay away from heavy objects or anything that can fall," I say in a rush. "Just stay right here, don't move, just crouch down."

"Is it going to collapse?" Elf asks worriedly. Another tremor throws dust over us and Elf crouches down with me. "Is it?" she repeats.

I don't answer. The building shakes again, sways. I can hear the explosion from here. Elf looks at me with big, scared eyes. "Nate, what's going-"

She cuts off with a scream. The building shakes once more time, causing parts of the ceiling to collapse on top of us. I'm crushed by a ceiling tile. Then we fall.

We don't fall sideways. Instead we seem to fall straight down, straight onto its base. The building sways again, then stills. I force the tile off of me and cough. I feel something trickle down the side of my face, and when I wipe it away, my sleeve is smeared with blood. I look down at myself. I'm covered in dirt and several scratches. My sweatshirt is torn, and so is the left knee of my pants. It's also bleeding rather badly.

Elf. My eyes widen as I realize she's underneath a large pile of wood. I scramble over to her, ignoring the pain in my knee and began to pull debris off of her. Constance appears out of her room, blood trickling from her mouth, and stops. "Don't stand there!" I scream. "Elf's under here! Help me get her out!"

Constance jolts as if I electrocuted her. "Oh my God," she whispers as she begins to climb over the remains of the ceiling. She helps me pull a wooden beam off of Elf's back and she groans and stirs. I pull a ceiling tile off of her and gasp. She had been underneath a light, and it had shattered when it fell.

Constance pushes the last piece of wood off of her. "We need to get her help," she says. "I'm sure there's a room without any damage that we can put her into."

I nod. "Stay here," I command. "Keep her awake."

"Hurts," Elf moans.

I crouch down by her head and stroke her hair, once so blonde and now streaked with crimson. "I know, kiddo," I whisper. "But you need to stay awake. Do you hear me? You need to stay awake!"

I stand up. Constance looks up at me and says, "I'll keep her talking."

"Good," I say as I run off. Most people are coming out of their rooms, leaving their doors wide open. I glance in each one. There's a room that's slightly covered in dust, and a lamp fell over on the desk, but otherwise, it's unharmed. I turn to the person who had just came out of that room and manage to gasp, "There's a girl who's been seriously injured, down the hall. Do you mind if we keep her in here?"

He nods and frowns. "Where's the girl?"

I run back to where Elf is, with him following at my heels. Once we get there, Constance looks up and Elf's head slowly twists to look at us. The guy says, "Do me a favor, don't move. We're gonna get you to a better place. Hang on."

I bend down and scoop Elf into my arms. Her head lolls on my shoulder. "Hey," she whispers hoarsely.

"Hey," I whisper back. "We're gonna get you better."

She nods slowly and stares at the hallway. "What was that?" she asks.

"The building fell," I say simply. "Straight down."

She takes a slow, deep breath. "And we survived," she says hoarsely. "That's what they meant by the building's architecture. About how it won't fall. That's what it meant."

I nod. "Yeah," I say, "that's what it meant."

We reach the room and I gently lay Elf on her stomach. The man bends down and lifts up a bag. He pulls out bandages and I remember him now. He and I had met the second day we were in the safe place. He had been an ER doctor, but the War had demanded him to be here, at the safe place, to help the wounded.

I then proceeded to flip him off.

He goes to work, pulling glass out of her back, stitching her up, then applying a substance that would speed up the healing process. "Not many people have access to this," he says. "I only use on those who are extremely wounded. Like now."

He gently rolls her over onto her back. She had fallen asleep while her back was taken care of, but she still cries out in pain. He works quickly, efficiently. Soon all of her wounds are stitched up, and she's sleeping peacefully. He then turns to me. "Sit down," he commands. "That head wound just needs a bandage, but your knee is pretty busted up."

I sit down, wincing. He applies the bandage, then glances at my knee. Without any pain killers, he stitches me now, ignoring my hisses of pain. I clutch the mattress tighter with each stitch. Finally, he applies the substance and stands up and turns to Constance. She's holding her left shoulder, which looks dislocated. He looks at it, frowns, and tells her, "I'm going to pop it back in place. It's going to hurt like a son of a gun, but it'll feel much better once it's in it's proper place."

Constance nods, then yelps in pain as he gently pushes it into place. Then he grabs his bag and leaves without another word, leaving us alone.