by Chris Pike
“This is crazy,” Tyler said.
“This is reality,” Kinsey replied. “Do you remember the blast at all?”
“No. The last thing I remember was Mom saying she’d be back before the National Anthem. After that, I guess I was knocked out. I woke up with a headache, and no clue where everyone was or what had happened.”
“It’s just as well. I wish I had been knocked out. I’ll never be able to get those images out of my mind.”
“I’m sorry, Kins.” Tyler put his arm around his sister, hugging her. “It must have been awful.”
“It was. I was so scared and didn’t know what to do.” Kinsey leaned into her brother. “I’m sorry I left you alone.” She swiped under her eyes, rubbing away the tears.
“Don’t be. You were really brave, and I’m sure Dad would be proud of you.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry I was a jerk earlier. I wish Dad was here.”
“Me too.” Kinsey swallowed a lump in her throat. “Let’s try not to fight anymore. Okay?”
“Deal. Let’s head on back to where Mom is. I’ve seen enough.”
Chapter 11
Two levels below the family group and the pilot helping them, and among the chaos and carnage, Joe Buck and Lexi Carter reminisced about the street they lived on as kids. Joe had helped Lexi hobble over to a chair near one of the food vendors. He retrieved another chair so she could prop her leg on it.
“Do you remember the time when you and your brother were on the roof, and me and two of my friends were throwing mud at you?”
“Seriously? You were part of that?”
“Yup.”
Lexi chuckled. “My mom was so mad at me and Lonnie. We tracked mud into the house, and you and your friends’ poor aim broke a window.”
“Oh, I didn’t know about the window.”
“You can thank my mother for not letting my dad call your parents. I remember them talking about how you’d probably get beat by your dad. Was that true?”
Joe took a big breath. “It was. I’ve tried to put it all behind me and move on.”
“I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“You’re not. Once I turned seventeen, my dad never beat me anymore. I could hold my own against him. He threw me out of the house when I graduated high school so I joined the military. I’ve never been back.”
“You haven’t seen your dad since you were eighteen?”
“Nope, and I don’t plan to.”
“What about your mom?”
“She made her choices, and I wasn’t included in them.” Joe’s tone had turned icy.
Lexi wasn’t sure what to say. She had grown up in a stable household with her dad working steadily, allowing her mom to stay home. It would have been an idyllic childhood except for her brother Lonnie, who caused their parents untold grief and worry. He was in and out of detention at school, ran around with a bad crowd, stole cars, got into drugs, then the coup de gras was when he was sentenced to the state pen. Lexi had been eighteen at the time, and her parents had not let her attend his sentencing or the trial, afraid for her safety and exposure to nefarious people.
“I haven’t seen my brother in years.”
“Where is he?” Joe asked.
“State pen in Huntsville, north of Houston. My mom sees him every once in a while.”
“How long is he in for?”
“Fifty years or something like that.”
“I’m sorry to hear about his troubles.”
“Thanks. It was his own fault. He’s always had a problem with authority. Let’s change the subject.”
“How’s your ankle?” Joe asked. “Do you mind if I look at it?”
“Be my guest.”
A baseball size pocket of fluid had formed around her ankle. Joe gently palpated the area, feeling for broken bones. “Does this hurt?”
“You’ll never be a foot masseuse.” Lexi was unaware she was stiff-arming the chair and gritting her teeth.
“It’s obvious you’re in pain.”
“To tell you the truth, I’ve felt better.”
“I believe you have a doozy of a sprain.”
“Is that your professional opinion?”
“Yes, it’s a doozy. In case you didn’t know, it’s a medical term.”
Lexi cracked a smile.
“The best thing for you to do is to keep it elevated and put ice on it. Also, it would be helpful to wrap it tightly. Compression will help keep it from swelling. I’ll scout for some ice, although I’m not sure what I can do about a compression bandage. I’ll come up with something.”
“Surely triage has been set up somewhere,” Lexi said.
“It has. Unfortunately, it’s been mobbed by half the stadium so we’re better off here. Sit tight for a few minutes, and I’ll be back. Is there anything else you need?”
“A hamburger and French fries would be great.”
Joe tapped the side of his face, thinking. “Will a bag of potato chips do?”
“Absolutely. And I’d appreciate a Coke over ice.”
“Stay here,” Joe said, glancing over his shoulder as he walked away.
“I’m not going anywhere with this ankle.”
Lexi tracked Joe until he disappeared, and for the first time since she had been knocked unconscious, she was able to comprehend the magnitude of their situation. From what she knew, grocery store shelves would be empty by the end of the third day, even the unpopular foods. She had no idea where her mother was, or if she had survived. She recalled her mother had gone to the sky booth to snack on the hors d’oeuvres. When Joe returned, she’d ask him for his advice or his willingness to find her mother.
Several minutes passed without any sign of Joe returning. Certainly, it couldn’t take him long to find ice and a drink.
The solitude unnerved Lexi because she had become accustomed to being surrounded by an entourage of people, albeit reluctantly. When she first started singing in clubs, it was on a dare by her best friend. Not one to back down from a dare, Lexi had called the nearest club, talked her way into singing, and the rest was history.
“Hey, pretty lady,” a male voice called out.
Two men sauntered towards Lexi, and from their posture and wicked appearance, they were up to no good.
Lexi pretended not to hear them.
Undeterred, they approached and one of the men poked Lexi in the arm. He said, “I know you. Ain’t you a country singer?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Normally Lexi greeted her fans, giving them the courtesy of a few friendly words, sometimes an autograph or a photo, but these two didn’t appear to be fans. They had the appearance of men who took advantage of situations to line their own pockets at the expense of others, like stealing from the elderly or kidnapping someone’s pet to be sold as bait for dog fighting. They certainly weren’t here for the game, more like they had made a beeline to the stadium from a nearby neighborhood for their own nefarious purposes.
“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you.”
“Can I help you?” Lexi asked.
He was the one who looked like he’d steal dogs. Provoking these men wasn’t the best idea, so better to keep it civil.
“Yeah,” dog-stealing man grinned. “You can help that ring right off your finger.”
“It’s a fake. It’s worthless. If it’s money you want, there’s a lot of bodies around here with wallets full of money.” Lexi scanned the area, wishing Joe would come back.
“I ain’t touchin’ no dead body. Might have germs or something.”
The man’s friend guzzled the last of his beer. He tossed the can aside and wiped his hand across his mouth. His eyes were glassy, his clothes disheveled, hair greasy, his beard unkempt, and he made eyes at Lexi like he was undressing her. He obviously abused drugs.
Lexi thought fast because her options were limited. If she could have run, she would have. To stall for time, she said, “If you wait a bit, my ma
nager will be right back and he can give you money.”
“How much money?” drug guy asked. He closed the space between him and Lexi, standing close to her.
Lexi recoiled from his stench. “He’s got enough for you to buy whatever you want to.”
“I don’t like this one bit,” dog-stealing man said. “This place gives me the heebie jeebies.” He was the thinner of the two and could have doubled as the bad guy in a western, shabbily dressed and with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
Without warning, drug guy grabbed hold of Lexi’s hand and pulled on the ring.
Lexi screamed loud and shrill, stretching her vocal cords to the limit, and considering her talent, being able to project her voice came natural to her. The man pushed her to the floor where they struggled. She balled her fists, hitting him until he pinned her arms to the floor. She was no match for the man.
“I kinda like this position,” he leered.
Lexi grimaced and rolled her head to the side.
He stuck out his tongue and licked the side of her face She recoiled, closed her eyes tight, and struggled, kicking and thrashing. Beads of sweat on his forehead trickled down the side of his face, and a drop of sweat fell on Lexi’s cheek.
The man forced Lexi’s hands above her head and held them tight with one hand. With the other hand, he undid his belt buckle—
A powerful force jerked the man off Lexi, and before he knew it, a solid punch landed square on his jaw. The man fell to the floor like a brick. He was out cold.
“What about you?” Joe asked. “You want some of what your friend got?”
“Nah, man. He ain’t my friend.” The man slowly backed away, and when he was a safe distance from Joe, he bolted, disappearing down the corridor.
Joe looped his arm under Lexi and helped her stand. “Are you alright?”
“I’m a little shaken up, otherwise I’m okay.”
Joe righted the chair. “Sit here, and let’s put ice on your ankle.” He reached into his pocket and removed a pair of women’s hose. “These will do in a pinch for compression stockings. I’ll wrap them around your ankle then tie them off.”
“Where’d you get a pair of panty hose?” Lexi asked.
“Do you really want to know?”
“What? Did you find them on the ground?”
“Sort of,” Joe replied. “I removed them from someone who wouldn’t be needing them anymore.”
“Oh.” Lexi grimaced, understanding Joe had removed them from a dead woman. “As long as they don’t have any blood on them, I’m okay with it.”
“Only the best for you, Lexi,” Joe teased, winking. He failed to tell Lexi the hose did have blood on them. A quick rinse with soap in the restroom remedied the situation. He had squeezed as much water out of them, then held the hose close to his chest to dry further from his body heat.
Joe sat opposite Lexi; her leg propped on his lap. He wrapped her ankle as tight as he thought was necessary then applied the pack of ice to her ankle.
“I appreciate you helping me,” Lexi said.
“My pleasure.” Joe meant it.
“I haven’t even asked if you’re okay. Did you get injured?”
“Other than being knocked out I’m okay. What about you? Do you have any other injuries or soreness?”
Lexi thought for a moment. Traumatized from the blast and the man who attacked her, she had completely forgotten about her sore tooth. She ran her tongue over the sore molar, testing its sensitivity. She took a swallow of the soft drink.
“My tooth hurts.”
“Do you have sensitive teeth?”
“Normally I don’t have any problems with my teeth. I have to go to the dentist regularly because it’s in my contract. I’ve had no time to make an appointment with a dentist because of the preparations and rehearsal for the game.”
“How bad is it?” Joe asked.
“Honestly, it’s getting worse.” Lexi massaged her jawline. “My mom said she would make me an appointment for me once this was over. Obviously, it’s not going to happen.”
“Where’s your mom?”
“She was at one of the luxury boxes, eating—”
“Your mom’s here?”
Lexi nodded. “I hope she’s okay. I really don’t know.” Lexi paused, unsure if she should verbalize her thoughts.
“What is it?” Joe asked. “Something’s on your mind.”
“If my mom was alive, she would have found me. I’m the only person she has.”
Joe visualized the luxury boxes located above the nosebleed section. Considering where the jet crashed, it probably clipped part of the upper stadium, and if it did, the people in the luxury boxes would have taken a direct hit. Taking into account the ordeal Lexi had been through, he decided not to voice his thoughts.
“Let’s try to get some shut-eye,” Joe offered. “I found a few coats and blankets we could use as a mattress.”
Lexi was skeptical regarding where Joe had found the items. “You didn’t take them off dead people did you?”
“No. I found them in the stands.” He handed a coat to Lexi. “How’s this one?”
Lexi pulled back the collar, inspecting the label. “This one is quite expensive. I might even like to keep it. I hate to get it dirty on the floor.”
“The temps will drop as soon as the sun goes down, and the concrete will not only be hard, it’s gonna be cold. If I was in your shoes, I’d rather be warm than have the latest fashion.”
“You’re right,” Lexi acknowledged. “Regardless, it’s still a nice coat.”
Joe gathered the rest of the coats, mulling over the options regarding where to sleep. He needed a space protected from the elements, and one where he wouldn’t be trapped in case more unsavory characters approached them. He decided hunkering down in one of the food vendor spaces would satisfy their needs. They would be hidden from survivors and others walking along the concourse. They’d have access to food not requiring refrigeration, and after they got settled in, he’d search the backroom for anything useful, especially knives.
He helped Lexi hobble over to the counter at the restaurant, and getting an idea for padding, he told her to sit while he prepared a bed for her. He took the two rubber mats he found behind the counter then placed them on the floor. Next, he found a tablecloth he used as a sheet so Lexi wouldn’t have to come in contact with the dirty rubber mats.
“Voila! Your bed, Madam Cartier.” Joe used his best French accent, bowed, and gestured for Lexi to try out the makeshift bed.
She giggled. “I’m impressed.” Using the bar to lean on, she hopped over to the bed.
Joe took her by the elbow and helped her to the floor. “What’dya think?”
Using her hands, she tested the feel of the platform. “It’ll be fine.”
Joe rolled one of the jackets into a ball then tied it off using the sleeves. He gave it to Lexi to use as a pillow, then draped a coat over her like a blanket.
“Snug as a bug in a rug.”
Lexi giggled again. “I don’t remember the last time I giggled so much.”
“Good. Anytime I can make a lady happy, then I’m happy.” Joe couldn’t help smiling either. “Try to get some rest. I’ll be close by scouting for anything useful.”
Chapter 12
Hours passed and Lexi slept soundly. Joe stayed nearby, sleeping on and off, keeping one ear open for unusual noises until fatigue crept in. He fell into a deep sleep, his dreams vivid, and sometimes violent, a result of his military service. During the day, he kept busy so his mind was always occupied solving a problem requiring using both hemispheres of his brain. It kept his demons at bay, but at night, he succumbed to his subconscious. At times he mumbled in his sleep, other times he tossed and turned until the bed linens were a jumbled mess of twisted sheets and covers.
Lexi had different dreams, those of anxiously waiting her turn to walk onto stage. She had a recurring dream where she would walk on stage, open her mouth to sing, yet she was unable to
utter a sound. Regardless how much she tried, she couldn’t sing. She’d often wake up in a cold sweat, her head pounding. She wondered if other performers had similar dreams.
The night was dark with cloud cover obscuring any light from the stars or the moon. The survivors had hunkered down for the night, with only the occasional scream or sounds of falling concrete, otherwise it was uncannily quiet. The fire caused by the jet fuel had burned itself out, and most of the smoke had cleared. The smell lingered on porous objects such as clothing and hair.
Lexi’s hair was a mess, and before she went to bed, she untangled it the best she could using her fingers. She had been sleeping for several hours on her side when she suddenly wakened.
Something didn’t feel right.
She willed herself to stay perfectly still to listen.
She opened her eyes a slit and waited for her sight to acclimate to the darkness.
Facing away from Joe, she had a view of the cabinet under the bar, filled with various items of mixes, tumblers, towels, boxes, and what appeared to be someone’s sack lunch.
Perhaps she had been dreaming, or maybe not.
She felt a presence next to her and hot warm breath on her neck.
Her heart pounded.
All sorts of thoughts raced through her mind.
Wake up, Joe!
Nothing except for soft snoring.
Something brushed against Lexi and she shot up, bumping Joe in the process.
Joe’s eyes snapped open and he shot up too, reaching for the metal pole he had found to use for protection.
Lexi cried out in pain when she put her weight on her ankle. Stumbling, she leaned against the bar. Running was impossible.
Movement in the shadows caught Joe’s eyes. “Someone is on the other side of the bar,” he whispered. “Keep your head down.”