Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again. Chapter 630: Status in Hunkerville

Dr. Earl, as he liked to be addressed whenever he stepped into the dic bay had never been so busy. The number of patients with burns and broken bones was quite high. The fortress did not have enough doctors to tend to everyone at the sa ti, and this was why he had risked the wrath of his parents and gone out to help.

He was too busy treating others that he dismissed the trembling in his hands with strange warmth and the fast pumping of his blood as if he had been got an adrenaline shot. The smart dical phone his mother had given him as acted as a guide, sharing insights and giving directions like a teacher standing over his shoulder.

He finished wrapping gauze around the arm of an old woman and imdiately set his eyes on his next patient.

"Doctor Earl, please look at my grandson first." The old woman begged, pulling a four-year-old boy that had been crying for close to twenty minutes. Even though Earl was not much older than her grandson, the old woman trusted him completely because everyone sung his praises when it ca to the job.

Earl scanned the boy’s body with his phone and gave the child a lollipop. "He is just scared; he will be fine."

While he moved on, a small lizard whose scales shimred faintly with sparks climbed into his pocket and went to sleep. Dr. Earl was yet to beco aware, that the small lightning strike had left behind a side effect.

****

The air in Hunkerville didn’t sll like victory, it slled like fear and burnt concrete. It was a sharp, smoky scent that stuck to the back of Sunshine’s throat, a constant reminder that mutants had just tried to peel their base open like a tin can.

Despite the charred skeletons of the new residential flats_ buildings that had been ant to house a hundred families but were now just expensive toothpicks_ there was a frantic, rhythmic energy to the place. It was the sound of superhumans at work.

Concrete slabs that would usually require a crane were being tossed aside like cardboard boxes by guys with bulging forearms and sweat-streaked faces.

"Let us hurry up people, we must create temporary shelters too. Those that have lost hos please go to the registration office." Kent shouted through a gaphone which he lowered on seeing Sunshine.

He looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backward and then interrogated by a storm cloud. His hair, usually sharp, was a nest of static-charged frizz.

"Mrs. Quinn," he croaked, his voice sounding like sandpaper. "It ans a lot to us that you actually ca to see the damage for yourself. Those bastards from Pitbull are claiming that we are exaggerating facts."

Sunshine gave him a faint, tired smile. "I will correct their thinking. Unfortunately, your base was the most affected by all this."

Kent leaned against a piece of twisted rebar, exhaling a breath that seed to deflate his entire chest. "We will restore everything my people are strong. We need supplies however, a lot of them. Two warehouses caught fire and the grain turned to ash. The bubbles... the old shield just almost folded on us. It was like trying to stop a bullet with a silk scarf. We need to replace the damaged parts before the next mutants attack."

"I brought them," she said, gesturing toward the heavy-duty transport parked behind her. "The bubbles and comfort snacks, dicine.....these people will need them."

A flicker of genuine relief crossed Kent’s face, but it was gone in a heartbeat, replaced by a shadow that darkened his eyes. He looked away, toward the line of black body bags being moved toward the temporary morgue.

"We lost fifteen people when the old mine collapsed," he said quietly. "Three were superhumans, we felt so safe recently that we forgot the reality that we are living in now. The earth cannot be trusted not to swallow us."

Sunshine felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach. Seeing dead superhumans always a reminder that they weren’t gods, just slightly more durable than the ordinary people. "I’m so sorry, Kent. Truly."

He nodded, a sharp, jerky movent. He wasn’t ready to process the grief yet; he had a city to stitch back together. "Right. Duty calls. Also, the first batch of the coins is ready. The gold mine stood strong because of those pillars you raised down there for support."

It was good news, in a way.

"Have them delivered to my office at the mountain base," Sunshine replied, trying to pivot back to the logistics that kept her sane. "Rember to be secretive.... for now, at least. I don’t need more gold being smuggled out."

"Copy that." Kent whistled, waving over a group of n who looked like they’d been carved out of granite. "Hey! Legs moving! Let’s offload the cargo the boss has brought. I want the new bubble up in one hour."

As the n began cracking open the crates and boxes, Kent stopped mid-stride. He peered into a box, his brow furrowing. The box said bubbles, but they were not the bubbles he knew. "Wait. These look... different. They’re heavier? And why are they not pinkish?" They looked blueish.

Sunshine stepped up beside him, tapping the side of one of one box. "Because they are different, Kent. And much stronger."

The word "stronger" acted like a shot of adrenaline to the exhausted crew. The zeal returned to their movents. As they began to deploy the new shield, sothing miraculous happened. Instead of the clunky, overlapping layers of the old shield that used glue, these bubbles snapped together with a satisfying click that you could feel in your teeth. They fit like a high-tech jigsaw puzzle, shimring for a second before turning completely colorless.

"Wait, where did it go?" one of the workers asked, waving a hand in the air.

"It’s transparent," Sunshine explained, watching the shield knit itself over the wound in the city’s sky. "And it’s smarter. If this takes a hit or feels a stress fracture, it won’t just flicker. It’ll ping every command center in the radius and sound a localized alarm. No more surprises."

"Cool," a voice chirped from behind them. Carly wandered over, wiping soot from her forehead. She looked at the empty space where the shield was supposed to be. "So, it’s like a silent, invisible bodyguard that screams when it gets punched? I dig it. Much better than the ’glowy-do-of-doom’ vibe we had going on. But I kind of miss the pink color. We can’t call it girl bubble anymore."

Sunshine spent the next few hours in the thick of it. She helped coordinate the distribution of dical kits, repairing engines of so of the cars that were struck by lightning, even spent forty minutes holding a heavy beam in place while a welder fused a support strut. Her hands were greasy, her back ached, and her brain felt like it was simring in a slow cooker.

Her comms unit buzzed at around 3 a.m. It was Hades.

"Sunshine, co ho. Do not overwork yourself." Hades’ voice bood, sounding annoyingly energetic.

"I’m fine, Hades. Status report on Busker?"

"Untouched. The thunder missed the plantations by a mile and Tommy was there, so he absorbed so of it with his body. The kid is fine, more powerful than ever. I have so wonderful news; we are actually ahead of schedule. The harvest is going to be great. We’ve got enough grain to feed a small town for four months."

Sunshine felt a little of the burden lift up. "Good, that’s good." she whispered.