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The kids fit tightly enough into their iron carriage that they did not jostle as Hector headed toward the police line. The uniformed officers saw him spring out of the darkness and bound over the hood of a vehicle. He could hear them radioing it in but paid them no mind.

Aside from a few blown out windows, the front of the building was still more or less intact, but the inside was another story. A team of rescuers with shovels and hatchets spotted Hector immediately. They shouted at him, but he didn’t stop to chat. He followed Garovel through a side room and down a flight of concrete stairs.

Halfway to the basement, however, he found the narrow staircase blocked.

‘It’s safe to punch your way through,’ Garovel said from the other side.

Hector made an iron bubble around his torso, ensuring the children were completely enveloped. He reached into the rubble with metal hands and ripped open a path for himself. Splintered wood, crushed plaster, and torn metal all tumbled down the steps, and he kicked it out of his way as he reached the basement floor. He opened the iron bubble again to make sure the children had air.

‘This way.’

He passed through a corridor and then two more rooms, seeing holes in the ceiling and huge cracks in the walls. The floor trembled, and he had to stop running for a moment to keep his balance.

‘There he is.’ The reaper pointed toward the next room over, where Hector could see the entire ceiling had caved in.

“Help!” came a yell from beneath the pile of wood and concrete. “Someone!”

A network of metal beams hung above the man, all torn and bent, some even dangling as if ready to fall on top of him.

‘Both his arm and leg are pinned,’ Garovel explained. ‘Hurry and lift those blocks there.’