by Lisa Stowe
“I seriously doubt that,” she said, sounding suddenly like her mother in spite of the catch in her voice. “And I’m never going back to school. They don’t know shit.”
“Alegria,” Ramon said, ignoring the laugh from the old man. “Bad words. Remember what your mother says.”
“I heard you say ‘fuck’. When you couldn’t hear me.”
“Listen now,” Ramon repeated, squeezing her ankle slightly. “Is Marie with you?”
“She ran for the bathtub. I told her that was for tornados. I called her an idiot!” Sobs broke out again.
“Alegria!” Ramon raised his voice. “Cry later. Right now I need you to calm down.”
He heard muffled sniffles. And then her voice, quivery, but more controlled.
“Okay. But I hurt.”
“I know, baby. We’ll take care of that.” He passed more of the wreckage back to the old man.
As he worked to shift broken boards and shattered glass, Ramon tried to picture the layout of the house. But now it was like he’d never been here. How far was the bathroom? And then he thought which bathroom? God, had Marie gone upstairs?
Alegria was slowly coming free of the debris.
“That there doorframe looks pretty solid,” the old man said. “You get your shoulder under it, mayhap I can pull the young lady out.”
“What’s your name?” Ramon asked as he maneuvered under the frame.
“Benton Volker. Ben. That’s June, outside. You?”
“Ramon Saura.” He grunted with effort and as he pushed upward his back muscles screamed. His breath caught on the pain.
Ben didn’t waste time, shoving under Ramon and grabbing for Alegria. “This is going to hurt.”
Alegria screamed as she came free, and the instant she was clear, Ramon lunged back and let the shattered doorframe settle. He caught his niece up to him as close as he could in the confined quarters, trying to protect the arm she supported as she cried.
“I’m truly sorry young lady,” Ben said.
Alegria sniffled loudly and buried her face against her uncle’s shoulder, trembling against him. But then she took a deep breath.
“At least you didn’t lie,” she said. “I hate it when grownups lie.” Tears rose to the surface again. “I ripped my school uniform.”
“Don’t matter none,” Ben said. “You did say you weren’t going back.”
The matter of fact words seemed to help as Alegria once again sniffled down tears.
“I’m going after Marie,” Ramon said. “Can you get Alegria out?”
“Yep.”
Ramon shifted in the small space, handing Alegria carefully over. “Which bathroom?”
Alegria gasped in pain as her arm brushed against the remains of the wall. Ben pulled her to him, and started backing out of cleared space they’d come in through.
“I don’t know,” Alegria said. “I haven’t heard her.”
“Don’t worry baby,” Ramon repeated, turning back to the space Alegria had just been pulled from. “I’ll find her. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Her voice grew fainter as Ben hauled her out. But he still made out the words.
“See? Grownups lie.”
9
Marie was unconscious in the bathtub. Ramon lifted the slight fifteen year old out gently, searched bathroom debris for a hand towel, and then carefully pressed it against his niece’s head wound. Her crazy hair, those long wild curls that drove her mother nuts, was matted with blood. More stained the white blouse of her school uniform, and the blue cardigan had a rent in the shoulder. Holding her against his chest to avoid jostling her as much as possible, he backed his way out of the ruins.
Ben waited at the opening, and helped Ramon to stand. In the front yard, June sat on the grass with Alegria, oblivious to the rain. The two men joined her, and Ramon, legs shaky with exhaustion, sank down with Marie braced against his chest.
“Duct tape,” Ben said, gesturing with his chin toward his wife.
June was splinting Alegria’s right arm with a Sun magazine and the duct tape. The elderly woman was sweating and wheezing, and Ramon wondered briefly how they’d get her back up on her feet.
“I don’t think the arm is broken,” June said. “I think it’s just banged up pretty good. But the splint will help either way.”
Ramon could only nod.
“Just keep that towel on her head.” June gestured at Marie. “Use that umbrella of mine on the ground there, and I’ll fix her up soon as I get done here. Now, child, this is only a temporary splint so keep your arm as still as you can. It will help with pain until we can find a doctor.”
“It sure hurts,” Alegria said in a shivery voice.
“I’m sure it does, honey,” June said, putting the roll of tape on the ground.
“You got that taped on firm enough, Mother?” Ben asked.
“Of course I do.”
Ramon rocked Marie gently as June scooted over to them and carefully lifted the towel.
“Oh, not so bad,” she said. “Head wounds always bleed heavy.”
“But she’s unconscious,” Ramon said. His back ached, his hands and forearms were scraped, cut, and raw. His side felt deeply bruised where he’d hit the fire hydrant. But he had his nieces. They were alive and out of the house. Gratitude filled his soul.
“Well, she got knocked on the head by something, that’s for sure,” June said. “They’ll probably want to watch her for signs of a concussion if we can get to the hospital, and if it’s functioning. But I don’t think it’s that bad.”
“How long do you think she’ll be out?”
“I’m awake,” Marie said in a soft, drowsy voice.
Alegria immediately started sobbing and crawled awkwardly to Ramon, where she tried to climb into his lap with Marie. He gripped both girls and held them tight, head bowed over them.
“Where’s mama?” Marie asked.
“No idea, honey,” June said. “But you’re safe here until your mother comes home.”
“She’s going to be mad,” Marie said. “Her nice home all broken up.” Her eyes fluttered, her breathing deepened, and she seemed to drift back to sleep.
“Are you sure it’s not bad?” Ramon asked.
June nodded. “I’ve seen my share of injured children.”
Ramon clutched the girls, his mind suddenly blank with the exhaustion that follows adrenaline-fueled fear. “So…you have children?”
“Ten,” Ben answered. “Mayhap more. You kind of lose count, right, Mother?”
June pulled her huge purse over and rummaged inside, coming up with another small bottle of water that she handed to Alegria. “He’s pulling your leg. We have two boys. Both grown now. Charles and his husband have twin girls and live in California. Frank is in Wyoming and him and his wife have three boys.”
Ramon struggled to focus on her words, and when she reached again for her purse he feared she was going to pull photos of grandkids out. But she came out with a tissue that she wiped her nose with.
“The boy don’t need our whole history,” Ben said. “You sure it’s not ten?”
Ramon managed the weak smile that the old man seemed to be hoping for with his lame humor. He gripped Marie and started to stand when Ben suddenly turned.
“Hey! Get out of there!”
The suddenness of the old man’s bellow startled all of them, and Ramon jerked around to see Ben stomping toward the house.
“What?” he asked.
“I saw someone going in the door hole.” Ben bent into what had been the entryway. “Hey!” he shouted again.
“Who was it?” Ramon asked, exhaustion sinking into his pores.
“No idea,” Ben said, still staring into the house. “Just saw him out of the corner of my eye. Gray clothes. I think. Not even sure he went inside.”
“If he did, he’s on his own,” Ramon said. “I’ve got to get these girls to the hospital, figure out where their parents are.”
“Right,” June said.
“Father, stop that hovering. You probably were just seeing things. Come on over here and help me up.”
Ben waited another moment, head cocked as if listening. But finally he straightened and came back to where his wife waited. He took hold of her arm, and stepped back, bracing himself. To Ramon, it looked like old habit, heaving his wife up.
“Shouldn’t have had that last donut this morning,” June said as she got up on her knees.
“Mayhap shouldn’t have had donuts the past forty years.” Ben grunted with effort as he hoisted her upwards.
Ramon ducked his head, swallowing an inappropriate laugh. Both girls snuggled closer to him, Alegria shivering and Marie seeming to surface and sink, wake and sleep. He wasn’t sure how he was going to find his brother and sister-in-law, he was afraid for Marie, worried about Alegria. Yet all of that faded under profound relief. He’d found his girls before an aftershock took the house down all the way. What if he hadn’t been on his way here? What if the old house hadn’t held up so he could get inside? What if the place had caught on fire like some of the others? He tightened his grip on his nieces.
Thank god he wasn’t a parent.
“Come on, son,” Ben said. “Let’s get your family loaded up.”
“My car is just down the block,” Ramon said. “A blue Camaro.”
“Your car isn’t going anywhere, honey,” June said. “Just look at the streets.”
Ramon twisted around to look fully at carnage he’d been oblivious to when focused on his nieces. Houses collapsed, utility poles down, wires across crumpled cars like odd fishing nets. But worse were the streets. The noise had been nothing but background for him moments before. But now he saw people staggering, bleeding, many simply sitting on curbs in profound shock. Horns honked and engines revved as those with working cars tried to get down the road. Where they thought they were going, he had no idea, but the neighborhood streets were clogged. One Suburban tried to simply push its way through two cars honking at each other, and only succeeded in jamming all three up against a fourth.
Ramon had no words to give voice to what he saw. It was a world gone insane. Three hours ago he’d been driving past Lake Tye Park, thinking about the level of his savings account. Taking his nieces out for burgers. It had been a normal rainy afternoon. And now, all was strange and terrifying. The shock of the destruction left a hollow chasm inside.
“We’ll take my truck,” Ben said. “She’s old but she’s built for rough going. Plus she’s got a winch out front and reinforced bumpers. She’ll get us to the hospital.”
Ramon helped Alegria up and then managed to somehow stand with Marie in his arms. The truck was older than dirt, a rusty dark green Ford with a camper obviously homemade, its thick plywood siding painted barn red. And the reinforced bumpers were simply huge slabs of wood bolted on to the frame.
“Does she have a name?” Alegria, her voice rough from strain, pointed at the truck with one hand and clutched a wad of Ramon’s shirt with the other.
“Old Crusher,” June said.
The name fit, Ramon thought. It probably would get them through to the hospital better than his car. He scanned the street as they walked over to the truck. The area was so changed it was hard to pick out where he had parked.
And then he could only stare, no words left for the catastrophe.
“What’s wrong?” June asked.
“He just saw his car,” Alegria answered. “Not a chick magnet anymore, huh?”
“I liked you better when you were clingy and teary,” Ramon said, turning away from the shiny bright yellow Hummer half on top of his Camaro, like an odd, car - mating ritual. “Should have left you inside and saved the car.”
Alegria tugged on his shirt. “Tío Ramon. You’re so full of shit.”
No, he thought as he carried Marie to the truck. He was empty. His normal world was now insane. His nieces had no one but him in all this chaos.
And he had no idea what to do.
10
The Index museum blazed, fully engulfed, and the fire lit the surrounding area brightly. With the broken water main, the firefighter and two deputies hadn’t been able to get enough pressure for hoses. And with the partial damage to the fire department bay, they hadn’t been able to get the tanker out. Instead they’d run a hose to the nearby river and put in a pump. Between that and the rain the fire would soon be out, but the building was obviously a complete loss, all the history now gone forever.
Curtis stood on the far side of the street from the fire, helpless to do anything but watch. Throughout the town, other small fires burned, with shadows of people gathered around the points of light. It amazed Curtis how dark the world was when electricity ceased to exist and the only light came from flames. At least the rain had eased from drenching to something softer.
Leaving the remains of the museum, he walked down the street, searching faces of those he passed, pausing outside remains of houses, looking for some way that he might help.
Someone had put up a canopy behind the Town Hall and bodies were being placed underneath. Or at least all that they’d been able to find so far. Curtis knew the number would grow as the searches continued.
He wandered from fire to fire but there was still no Henry. Some people had left town before dark, walking along the back way that led to Reiter Road and eventually the city of Gold Bar. It was highly doubtful the narrow, twisting road was even passable. But it was the only way out on this side of the river, and people wanted to get away, like they still believed the quake had just devastated Index and not the whole area.
Curtis had thought briefly about going with them, but more people than just Henry were still missing. How did someone walk away from that?
Curtis passed into the deeper darkness beyond the clustered circles of firelight. Exhaustion made his eyes gritty and watery. Fatigue was as deep an ache as the one in his head, but he didn’t know where to go to find rest.
The mountains were a solid mass surrounding him, invisible in the dark, but felt. The Hole, under those mountains, was probably gone, all his equipment with it. Even if the Hole itself hadn’t caved in, it was doubtful the access road was still intact. All that work, all those experiments searching for the Fifth Force, gone. He remembered Henry harassing him all the time about parallel universes, and wished he could argue with the old man again. Sadness seeped through him and he wiped tears away.
He thought about how afraid he got at night, sprinting from the Hole to his car, knowing something scary was out there in the mountain night. Now here he was with a world gone insane, walking through the darkness by himself. If only his mother saw him now. He knew he wasn’t fully alone, that there were people nearby, but the world, oddly, had become much less terrifying in the dark, when you couldn’t see the truly horrifying devastation and death.
He passed the remains of the little community church on Index Avenue and rounded the corner. As he did, something like a small flash of light caught his eye. Behind him, across from the church, a narrow dirt driveway climbed up steeply to what used to be known as Schoolhouse Hill. Now it was a private residence up there, in a prime location with a view of the town and nothing but wild forest and high mountains behind it.
At the base of the driveway Curtis saw the movement again. Like the flash of a tiny red LED light.
Or maybe ambient light from fires making something glow red.
“Hello?” Curtis said. His heart thudded heavily in his chest.
The light moved, and then there were two. Something had just turned to face him.
“You okay?” Curtis stepped back, not sure he wanted an answer. So much for the dark not being scary anymore.
The low growl sounded loud against the softly pattering rain on pavement and the distant snapping and popping of the museum fire. Curtis stepped back again. Wild animals had to be just as scared as people were. Why else would they come so close to town?
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice shaky. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Curtis froze, his breath coming fast and shallow. Bear. Oh, god. A bear. “I know kung-fu. And karate. And Ju-jitsu. You know, in case you’re thinking of eating me or something.”
“Curtis? Is that you?”
Curtis jumped, his feet actually leaving the ground as he let out a high-pitched squeak.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
A headlamp beam kicked on, aimed at the ground, and in the reflected glow Curtis saw the older man still wearing his metal hardhat. The guy who’d wanted to contact emergency management.
Louis. That was his name.
“Are you okay?”
“Shine your light over there,” Curtis said, voice shaking. “Right over there by the driveway. Some animal. Big animal. Really big.”
The beam swept across the road and in the low light a dark shadow moved and took shape.
“A dog,” Louis said.
“That’s an awfully big dog.” Curtis kept his voice low. “And why are its eyes red?”
“Just light reflection. I’m going back to the fires. If it’s a stray who knows what it will do.”
“I’ll walk with you, if that’s okay.” Curtis had a shaky fear that the huge black dog, now fading back into the woods, was no stray. He didn’t know what it was, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t just some poor dog dumped in the woods.
“Come on.” Louis sounded impatient.
“You’ll keep the light on?” Curtis fell in step next to Louis, keeping close.
“Sure.” Louis turned back toward Avenue A and the fire.
“I’m scared of the dark,” Curtis said with no shame. “Always have been. Kind of a nameless fear of everything. A few minutes ago I was thinking maybe I wasn’t anymore. But then that animal growled and now I think it’s worse because it’s no longer nameless. You know what I mean?”
“Everyone’s going to be afraid for a long time,” Louis said. “You’re not alone.”