The vehicle pulled slowly in front of the smoldering rubble before grinding to a steady stop. The front doors swung open easily and two men casually stepped out, surveying the scene. Aside from the heated glow that came from the wreckage, there was little light to speak of, but they could still see the rundown buildings surrounding them; both dingy and drab. Many of them were missing windows or doors and were obviously derelict.

“The whole city’s a war zone and this is where we’re sent? Some pyro probably just lit this place and ran. Look around, no sane person would come here. Come on Forisch, let’s get out of here. This is a waste of time.” One of the men said, gesturing to his partner before pointing at the car.

The other man said nothing, opting instead to move closer to the burning heap. He scanned his surroundings briefly, stooping down to pick something up.

“What’s that?” The first man inquired. He drew near Forisch, but as he approached, Forisch suddenly moved, folding the object quickly and stowing it away.

“What was that?” The man asked again, suspiciously. “What was on that paper?”

“Nothing.” Forisch responded in a thick Eastern European accent.

“Yeah right, it’s nothing. Come on, let me see it.” The man stepped toward Forisch holding out a hand, but Forisch made no move to deliver, instead he held out a long index finger, pointing at something near the edge of the flames.

“Listen, don't think you can try to distract me by making me think there’s something important to look at. There’s nothing in this place but a bunch of rubble.” He replied, staring narrow-eyed at Forisch.

Forisch didn’t flinch, standing staunchly and pointing off into the darkness at the edge of the fire.

Seeing Forisch’s resolution, his partner turned in the direction he was pointing. At first he couldn’t see anything and, having swiftly convinced himself he'd just been duped, he began to turn back toward Forisch, an angry expression on his face. It was then that he caught something in the corner of his eye, making him pause.

It was a figure of some sort, silhouetted against the light of the fire. It moved with slow, almost imperceptible pulses, but was otherwise completely still.

They both approached the figure, moving cautiously. Upon reaching it they saw that it was a man. He sat hunched against the burning wall of the building, apparently oblivious to his surroundings. He was well built, but the curve of his shoulders and the downward bow of his head gave him the appearance of being small and weak. Blood slowly dripped from his mutilated face, landing haphazardly on his already saturated clothing.

“Are you OK?” The first man asked, “What happened?”

The injured man said nothing, only emitting a slow and agonized groan from his swollen lips.

“I guess that means he’s responsive, in a way. Forisch, go get the stretcher.” The first man ordered, and Forisch rushed off to the vehicle. He returned to find his partner already bandaging the man. By now he’d begun to mutter feverishly under his breath, a long string of incoherent phrases and babblings.

“Listen, we’re here to help, can you tell us your name?” The first man tried again, as they began to gently load the man onto the stretcher.

“Calligan.” He replied, with surprising clarity before returning once more to his ramblings.

“Well, Calligan, you’re in good hands now. We’re going to get you patched up as good as new before you know it.”

Calligan didn’t respond, continuing his mutterings as he was carried to the ambulance, causing the man to give a worried glance to Forisch.

He returned his partner’s gaze with a knowing one of his own, calmly replying with a single word, “Shell shock.”

They both shook their heads sadly, slowly loading Calligan into the back of the vehicle. As they closed the doors, the first man glanced solemnly at Forisch.

“A lot of people suffered out on these streets.” He said, somberly. “But he looks like he’s suffered the worst.”

Forisch nodded slowly and then started heading for the driver’s side door.

“By the way,” His partner interjected, as he opened it. “You still haven’t told me what was on that paper.”

“Gibberish.” Forisch replied casually. “Fascinating gibberish.”