Nine Minutes

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Are you that worried?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Ted answered quickly.

  “Why?” I lifted up my hands then looked at Joan. “You’re a crisis counselor. Should we be worried?”

  “It’s not been that long.” Joan replied. “But the longer we leave them up there, the more desperate they’ll become.”

  “We don’t know how many are there,” Ted said.

  “Look, we’re down here talking about this,” Mark added. “How do we know they aren’t talking about how to get down here?”

  “I would,” I said. “I would figure out how or at least try. You can’t blame them for wanting to get to the safest place.”

  “Will they be okay up there?” Kevin asked.

  “Absolutely,” Ted shot out his answer.

  “Not.” I shook my head. “Absolutely not. These were nuclear bombs. There is radiation. I have a map I printed off the internet. It’s gonna be bad. We may not even be safe, but we’re a lot safer down here than up there. Every minute we leave them up there is another minute closer to death they get.”

  “What about food?” Ted asked. “Water.”

  “We have a freezer,” Mark said. “We can use the melting ice from there and ration water. We have food. Again, we don’t know how many people are up there.”

  “Mommy,” Macy said softly. “I’ll share my food. I don’t want people to die because we’re scared.”

  Ted pointed at Macy. “And that is what they’re hoping. What’s to say they don’t come down here and force us out. Or worse.”

  “Right now, they’re as scared as we are,” Joan said. “Only they can see what is out there. We can’t.”

  “We don’t know that they’re scared,” Ted replied. “I don’t mean to be a dick here. But they are not our responsibility. They aren’t. What if they’re sick, injured?”

  “All the more reason to bring them down,” I said.

  “So, they what … get us sick?” Ted asked. “We try to help them. We’re not doctors. What if one of them die? We’ll get sick from that. Or, you know, what’s to say they won’t lock us in here until we suffocate?”

  “Have you always been this paranoid?” I asked.

  “I’m thinking ahead,” Ted argued. “We can’t just let a bunch of strangers down here.”

  “Four hours ago,” Joan quipped. “That’s what we were. Strangers.”

  “You guys stopped to help me,” Kevin said. “I would be dead if you didn’t.”

  Ted looked at Mark. “What do you think?”

  “I think if we say nothing and leave them be,” Mark responded. “They’ll move on.”

  “And die,” said Joan.

  “Not our problem,” Ted said.

  “Look.” I held up my hand, speaking calmly. “You said you don’t mean to be a dick. I’m gonna trust you aren’t … usually. And I am not trying to be a bleeding heart here. I’m not. Really, I am far from that. We may not be much safer down here, but we’re safer than up there. Leaving them there, not offering them shelter, food, water … help, that’s wrong. It’s only been four hours. Is this who we want to be? Selfish, scared …”

  “Alive,” Ted interrupted.

  “It doesn’t matter. What good is being alive if we have to sacrifice people to do so,” I said.

  “It’s survival, Henny,” Mark said. “it’s gonna be a different world now from here on in. There will be tough choices.”

  “Who says humanity needs to go down with the buildings,” I told him. “If we leave them up there, exposed, to die, then we are no better than the people who did this to us. Now, I will stop arguing and debating and agree with what the majority says. But let’s take a vote. What do we do?” I asked. “Bring them down or leave them to die?”

  THIRTEEN – DECISION

  It came as a surprise. Even with all the insistence that Joan made that the vote be anonymous, and the majority vote decided, even with her ripping tiny sheets of paper and sharing the pen, the vote was unanimous.

  We’d bring them down.

  I didn’t get why we voted in the first place if everyone was going to vote like that. It was a waste of time. I guess talk is tough when discussing, but when push came to shove no one, not even Ted, could say, ‘let them die.’

  But one decision was not unanimous, it was who would go up and get them.

  One person could go, but we thought it was best that two would venture up. One to stay mid-stairs in case of problems, and the other to knock and call out for them.

  No one wanted to, but Mark volunteered and just as Kevin did, I stepped up.

  It was my idea, my bleeding heart that pleaded their case, I would and should be the one to go.

  After making sure Macy was safely tucked in the corner, I grabbed the flashlight that was stored in the cooler and joined Mark in leaving the safety of the refrigerator.

  Upon first stepping out into the darkness, instantly my thoughts went to being exposed to radiation. Then I had to push myself to remember that we were in the deep side of the basement and on the other side of the wall was the loading dock lift that raised to street level. I was safe, at least down there from high levels of radiation.

  I believed so, I didn’t know for a fact. No one did. We weren’t scientists or experts.

  I had one advantage over everyone else. I knew that basement well. I knew how tidy it was kept to keep up with sanitation laws. That the only thing we could trip over was something that had fallen.

  There was a strong odor of burning rubber, just as Joan described. I swing the flashlight beam from right to left trying to assess the situation.

  Some boxes had toppled from the shelves, along with cans, but everything was miraculously alright.

  I also lost the fear of being trapped down there. With the people upstairs that told me we’d get out. We may emerge into a dangerous world destroyed and different from what we knew, but we’d get out.

  I could hear muffled cries above us, some shuffling, a cough or two. There were definitely people up there.

  I couldn’t make out what was being said, except one male voice sounding on the edge of irritation, “I know you’re hurt, but there’s nothing we can do. Please, please, please stop.”

  Mentally I couldn’t chastise that man for lack of compassion because it was a stressful situation.

  I couldn’t imagine what they were going through, what they had seen.

  I wondered if they found salvation in the kitchen. Maybe they shut the doors and were spared from too much exposure.

  I led the way to the stairwell and allowed Mark to go first, I’d stay behind and waited half way up. I couldn’t help but listen to what was going on above us. Mark was just about at the top and I had this thought causing me to whisper, “Wait, stop.”

  Mark looked over his shoulder at me. He mouthed the words, “Did you change your mind?”

  I shook my head and waved him to come back down.

  He looked irritated at me, but he backtracked.

  “What?” He asked, whispering.

  “We’re not ready for them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re hurt. We’re gonna bring them down here and offer them only protection.”

  “Okay.”

  “We should be able to help them.”

  “Jesus, Henny, none of us are doctors.”

  “I know, but you did hear Ted,” I said. “If they have an infection or get one, so will we.”

  Mark ran his hand through his hair making it stand up even more. “What do you suggest?”

  “I have the first aid kit in my bag, it probably doesn’t have much,” I whispered. ‘But I’d say water and bandages. Maybe just get the water ready, rip up some tablecloths ...” I swung around the flashlight. “Here.” I pointed to the box. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this. New linens. New tablecloths.”

  “Henny,” Mark said. “We don’t have a lot of water as it is.”

  “Yeah, bottled water.”
r />   “Okay, what other kind is there?” Mark asked.

  I shone the flashlight on the industrial plastic encased water heater. “This. 130 Gallons.”

  “Great thought but ... the water goes both ways. By now contaminated water has made its way into the lines and into the tank.”

  “Not if you shut off the intake valve.”

  “We didn’t shut off the intake valve,” he said with a shake of his head.

  I only tilted my head.

  “You shut off the intake valve?”

  “It’s really easy, it’s just a valve handle. The gas, Paulo our maintenance man had the big wrench on the wall, and he made sure we knew how to shut it off.”

  “You shut off the water and gas?” Mark asked.

  “I wouldn’t have thought of that had WPXI not said if you have to retreat to the basement, secure it, and shut off the water and gas. They gave all those survival tips. I am sure a lot of people survived because of them.

  Mark let out a sarcastic, “I’m sure.”

  “What was that about?”

  “Why are we waiting to help these people? If you know we have water and new linen as you called it for bandages, what’s the hold up?”

  “I thought we’d get it ready.”

  “No, that’s really stupid.” He shook his head. “We don’t even know what they need. Let’s just find out then get things ready.” He walked back to the stairs.

  “Did you just call me stupid?”

  A couple steps up, he stopped and turned to face me. “Really? Really? That’s your main concern?” After another disgruntled shake of his head he made his way near the top, stopping just so he was close enough to knock.

  I took my place halfway.

  Mark raised his hand to knock. We weren’t crossing that threshold into the upstairs, even though I couldn’t figure out what made the big difference.

  He didn’t unlock the door, he knocked two times, and called out. “Hello. How many of you are there?”

  There was no response at first, then the gut wrenching sound of a child’s voice saying, “Daddy. There’s a man calling out to us.”

  A child. While we were safe and cozy downstairs, there was a child up there. Maybe even more.

  The sound of rustling footsteps carried our way above us and someone tried to open the door. They were unsuccessful.

  “Are you gonna open the door?” The male voice asked. “We need to get below, I don’t think it’s safe up here. Can you open it?”

  “Yes,” Mark replied. “How many are you?"

  The door rattled. “Open the door. You left us up here this long exposed. What the hell is the matter with you?”

  “Hey!” Mark slammed his hand against the door to stop him “We had no idea until just now that you were here. I’ll open the door. How many are there of you?”

  “Six, Two kids. So, eight.”

  Mark looked at me, waved for me to back up. I did.

  “I’m going to unlock the door.,” Mark said. “When I do. Give me a second to back out of the way and then come down.”

  He slowly unlatched the bolt and hurried backward toward me.

  They didn’t wait at all to fling open the door.

  It was bright, but not as bright as I expected. I ducked out of the way of the staircase and into more of the main area of the basement, watching from below as they began to emerge.

  They couldn’t see, it was far too dark for them.

  The first one down was a man holding a young boy’s arm, he wasn’t carrying the child who looked to be about six or seven. The boy’s eyes were closed, and his hands waved out as if feeling for something.

  Was he not able to see?

  “This way,” the younger man said.

  “Daddy, I’m scared,” the boy replied.

  Then I saw why the young father didn’t carry his son, his arm looked mangled. Maybe it was the bloody and torn shirt, along with the dark that gave the illusion, but the father was injured.

  He looked at me and said, ‘Thank you.’

  More people came down, slowly, all of them injured in some way. Two of them had to be aided. It was hard to see how badly they were hurt.

  I looked for the other child, worried that they left him or her upstairs, until I saw it was a small infant, swaddled in a blanket in a woman’s arms.

  The final one, a man, maybe in his sixties closed the door behind him. He was the voice yelling at the other side of the door. I recognized it when he thanked us.

  Including the children, there were nine in all.

  They all stood there, clueless, as to what to do next. I was just as confused.

  The only thing we could do was get organized with them and see what we could do.

  That was the best and only option at that moment.

  FOURTEEN – ARRIVAL

  I called them our kitchen survivors. Though I didn’t know their stories at all when they first came down. Initially, it was calm, our kitchen survivors were a little shell shocked, maybe nervous. They crammed in one area of the basement until they figured out where to sit or what do to.

  I still had my keys, which actually had a copy of the key to the freezer padlock, I locked it, even though we’d eat from there first, I still needed to keep track of things. That was Joan’s suggestion.

  Macy stayed in the cooler, the door not closed all the way. That was off limits. I wanted to help where I could, but I didn’t want to leave her back there alone.

  Ted offered to stay with her and alternate with Kevin. I was okay with that. After all, my first thought was how long really would these people need us.

  It didn’t take long for us to start situating. Moving people about.

  We covered the concrete floor with tablecloths. Milk crates and vegetable crates served as chairs. We got them calm first, then figured out what we needed for them.

  Joan ripped cloths for bandages, a continuous noise that seemed to never stop. Did we really need that many? I guess I really didn’t look at them, not closely. Not at first.

  “They’re all hurt.” His name was Van, an older gentleman, the one that yelled at the door. “One way or another. Some ...” he nodded, "More than others.”

  “What about you?” I asked him.

  “A bump or scratch. Nothing major. Hell, I wouldn’t even call it minor.” He looked rough around the edges and sounded it, too.

  “Keep them coming,” a woman said to Joan. “Keep ripping. I need to keep them fresh,” she then turned to Mark. “I need that water, one pan of water, nothing else, the other with soap, please, if you can find it.”

  She barked out instructions with authority. She had on a dirty green shirt from the restaurant, Samo’s down the street. She wasn’t old at all, maybe her late twenties at most. I figured she worked at Samo’s and had some sort of medical training or was going to school for it. She presented herself that way. It made me feel good. We needed that. Maybe I was wrong. She brushed by Kevin making her way to Joan to get bandages. She lifted her eyes to me. “Will you be able to help me find things I need? I’m gonna have to make do with what I have.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “Can I do anything?”

  “No,” she replied. “Maybe after I get things situated. There wasn’t much I could do upstairs at all. Here ... one at a time and then I’ll let you know.”

  “So just stay out of your way?”

  She nodded and moved away, first to the boy. He didn’t look anywhere as bad as the others. Perhaps because he was a child, she chose to help him first.

  “Adina,” Van said. “Her name is Adina. She was a nurse at Children’s hospital. One of the last to leave and got stuck there. I was taking people in my cab to evacuate, she got in.”

  “So, all these people were with you?”

  “Good heavens, you think I can fit all these people in a cab?”

  “I just ...”

  “No.” he shook his head. “Adina was. Mom and newborn were with me, another fella, never got his name and ...
Whiney Wendy, not sure what her real name is.”

  I crinkled a brow wondering why he called her that until the young woman whined out. “Someone please stop that baby from crying. Please. My head.”

  “Get it?” Van asked. “No baby is crying. She hasn’t stopped whining since before the bombs.”

  “Where did the others come from?”

  “The boy and his father were already here when we arrived. This is one of the few still partially standing buildings. The kid looked at the flash, that’s what Adina said. He can’t see right now. The father, not sure what happened to his arm. We just got to this building not long ago. The others were on the street injured and they followed us.”

  “That’s why we didn’t hear you at first.”

  Van nodded.

  “Where were you before this?”

  “Samo’s,” He replied.

  “Because she worked there?” I indicated to Adina.

  “No, she didn’t. She worked at Children’s.”

  “I just assumed with the shirt and all …”

  Van shook his head. “She had to change it. There was some blood. You can say we cut it close. We cut it real close to the bombs. Traffic started moving, we almost got over the bridge. Then I figured if the bombs were coming, I wasn’t making it unless I got cover. So, like everyone else, we ran. I knew Samo’s had a basement and that’s where we went. Headed straight there. Didn’t really make it to the basement before the bombs went off. Made it inside, but not to the basement.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “It was scary.”

  Kevin stepped to us, “What was it like?”

  “Kevin,” I scolded motherly.

  “What?” Kevin asked me.

  “They just got here. It may be hard to talk about,” I told him.

  “Nah, it’s fine,” Van said. “I’m guessing you don’t want to hear just that it was scary. To be honest. There wasn’t time when it happened to be scared. We made it into Samo’s just when the flash hit. It was like instinct to take cover. I hid behind the bar, crouched down as best as I could. The whole world shook. Things fell down all around us. I just did my best duck and cover.”