by Riley Flynn
“How’d that go?” asked Price.
“I know what you’re thinking, because I thought it myself: that he was a pervert, or maybe he was some self-righteous asshole who was going to push me into his church. But it turned out he just wanted to help me. He saw something in me that no one else ever had.”
She felt hot tears on her cheeks, but managed to keep her voice even.
“He was just a sweet old guy who felt an obligation to help his kin. Found me a part-time job at the Save-A-Lot, helped me enroll in an upgrading course at community college. It was supposed to start in September.
“But then people started getting sick, and then everything stopped working. Pretty soon, Kenny’s staff stopped showing up for work; first a couple, then a dozen, then suddenly it was just him at the station. And then he got sick. He asked me to do what I could to keep the peace, to help the people who needed it.”
She snuffled in the dark, no longer trying to keep it under control. “I did it, for him. I put on the uniform, strapped a pistol to my hip and spent a couple of days with the few city cops who were still on duty. We patrolled, broke up some looters, listened to a lot of panicked people tell us about their family members shitting themselves to death in their homes. Then the police chief died. Suddenly I had real cops looking to me to lead them in this nightmare scenario. By the time I met you all at the high school, it seemed like everyone had just accepted that I was the sheriff. It all seems so surreal now.”
The two of them laid in silence for a while. Maggie listened to Price breathing in the dark long enough to wonder if he’d fallen asleep.
“That’s a hell of a story,” he said finally. “Hard to believe.”
She smiled. “Thanks for that insightful analysis. So you think I should keep it to myself around the military folks? Other than you, I mean?”
“That depends—do you want to keep your job?”
“More than anything. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m doing something that matters. And I owe it to Kenny. And, I know this is going to sound crazy, but it’s no crazier than reality: I can’t shake the feeling that this is something I’m supposed to do.”
“You’re right,” he said.
She blinked. “Really? You think so?”
“About sounding crazy? Absolutely. So if you really don’t want to get dumped unceremoniously back into civilian life, don’t tell anyone what you just told me. Got that?”
Maggie’s heart sank, but really, had she expected anything different? If she were in Jax’s position and heard that story, she’d probably react the same way.
“Copy that,” she said in a small voice.
“Look, I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but it’s the truth. I’m a lifer marine, and even I can’t believe how far up their own asses the brass are these days. But they have to keep up the illusion that they’ve got everything under control—they don’t have a choice. Everything that we’re trying to accomplish here hinges on that, especially after what happened in the mountains. I know how crazy this sounds coming from me, but I actually believe the future of the country rests on our shoulders.”
She sighed. “So I have to keep pretending.”
“Not around me.” He shuffled again so that his voice was even closer to her ear. “I stand by what I told you that night when I first figured it out: I don’t care who you used to be. I care about who you are now, and I’ll always have your back.”
Maggie would never know if it was the beer, or the scenario, or his words, but something compelled her to turn so that she was facing him in the dark. Their faces were just inches apart.
“And I’ll have yours,” she breathed. “Count on it.”
And then the earth moved.
Literally.
12
The quake struck fast, and it struck hard. Maggie had barely enough time to register what was happening before she found herself dropping to the floor of the makeshift police station. Her elbows and knees throbbed with the impact on the marble tiles, but it didn’t stop her from moving shakily to her feet.
“Brian!” she shouted into the darkness. “Are you all right?”
Price stumbled into her as the floor seemed to shift forward like a moving sidewalk in an airport.
“I’m fine, just get out!”
They bolted out the front door of the storefront and onto the sidewalk, grabbing onto a nearby light standard for stability as the ground continued to heave. They watched the silhouette of the building that housed the station tremble in the moonlight for what seemed like hours (Maggie would realize in hindsight that it was less than twenty seconds). Panicked shouts surrounded them as civilians poured out of the apartment building across the street.
Maggie looked up at the windows of the tenement—a handful of them had shattered, raining glass down onto the sidewalk. People scattered, shrieking, as it fell, but none of them sounded like they were in actual pain. She quickly noticed that the lights in the lobby were out, and all of the apartment windows were dark.
Price grabbed her arm as the street finally seemed to settle under their feet.
“We need to evacuate that building,” he said.
Before she could react, she heard Raylene’s voice moving toward her from the other side of the street. “Maggie! Is that you?”
“It’s us,” she heard herself say. “Me and Brian.”
“Oh, man, I’d thank God if I believed in Him. I don’t wanna know why you two didn’t go back to the resort; I’m just thankful you’re here.”
A silhouette appeared beside her. “How can I help?” Smith’s voice asked.
What the hell was he still doing downtown?
“You’re both okay?” she asked.
Raylene nodded. “I’m a little tipsy still, but otherwise fine. Tell us what to do.”
“We get into the building and do a floor-by-floor sweep to make sure everyone gets out,” said Price.
“Where will they go?” asked Raylene.
“We’ll worry about that later. These buildings are old, and there’s a ton of snow on the roofs. We don’t know if there’ll be another quake, and we don’t know if the first one did any structural damage. People aren’t safe in there.”
Maggie headed across the street against the jostling tide of people flooding out of the main entrance, and the others followed. The noise was enough to make them all shout to be heard.
“This won’t be easy,” said Smith. “A lot of these people are still drunk.”
“How many floors?” Maggie asked.
“Six,” said Raylene. “Twenty apartments per floor. What happened to the lights?”
“I’ll take the top two,” said Price as he jogged to the stairwell.
“Power’s out,” said Maggie. “I’ll take three and four if you two can handle the others.”
Raylene ran a hand through her short hair. “Shit, that means the heat’s gone. And we’re gonna drive people out into the street?”
“Better cold than crushed to death.” Her mind flashed back to the horrific house explosion she had witnessed at New Haven in November. “Or worse.”
“She’s right,” Smith said before heading down the main floor hall.
Maggie grabbed the cold metal railing and followed Price up the stairs. Her heart was racing as she hit the fourth floor and jogged down the narrow hallway, banging on doors as she passed. The only light was offered by the moon through the single window at the end of the hall.
“Everybody out!” she bellowed. “This is the sheriff! This building isn’t safe!”
She reached the end and turned around to see shadows stumbling through the doors.
“Whuzz goan on?” a woman slurred. “Fell outta bed…”
“There was an earthquake,” said Maggie. “We have to get out now. The building isn’t safe.”
“But s’cold out…” said an older man. “Where we gonna go?”
“We’ll figure that out when we get outside. Let’s go!”
&nbs
p; A few stragglers joined in as she headed back down the way she’d come. She spread her arms wide, trying to use them like a fishnet toward the door that led to the stairs. When they got there, she saw the stream of people from the upper floors that Price was clearing pour into the stairwell.
“Don’t push!” she called. “Let’s keep it orderly! Hold onto the railing, watch your step!”
To her surprise, she realized people were actually doing what she said. And she already had her next move planned out.
Maybe this is what Kenny saw in me, she thought.
The crowd moved slowly but steadily down the stairs until they started to pool in the lobby. Raylene and Smith were already there, trying to herd people out the front door.
“But it’s fucking freezing!” a young man shouted. “Where are we going?”
Maggie pushed her way through the throng toward Smith.
“You need to radio in for help,” she said.
“I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t bring my two-way with me,” he said. “Never occurred to me that I’d need it.”
Jesus, she thought. How did this guy ever become a colonel? No wonder Archer turfed him.
She headed back out into the cold and crossed the street to the police station. She rummaged through the dark until she found her walkie-talkie, then felt a stab of adrenaline as she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she’d charged the batteries.
“Echo One, this is… fuck, I don’t know what my call sign is supposed to be now! Jax! It’s Maggie!”
She counted off thirty Mississippis in her head before squeezing the button again.
“Mayday! Mayday! Jax, I need you to answer!”
It was another ten Mississippis before his voice finally came over the radio.
“Echo One here,” it said. “Mags, are you all right? Over.”
“Did you get the quake under the mountain?”
“We felt something, but the base is stabilized with giant shock absorbers to minimize impact. We’ve been getting reports from HQ at the resort. They say they felt it, but no obvious damage. Where are you? Over.”
“Downtown, and there is damage: the power is out for at least three blocks. We’ve evacuated the apartment building that Raylene lives in, and we’ll have to do the others as well. We need support and a warm place for these people right now.”
“Shit,” Jax muttered. “How many people are we talking about? Over.”
“Enough with the overs!” she snapped. “I’d estimate a thousand, maybe more. And the temperature is probably ten degrees, which means we’re going to have people suffering from exposure within a few hours.”
“Copy that. I’ll get things in motion. Jesus, where the hell are we going to put them all?”
“That’s not my call. Just get people here as soon as you can!”
It took almost two hours for the first buses to arrive from Cheyenne Mountain. Maggie, Price, Raylene and Smith spent that time clearing the nearby buildings and filing the people outside into what ended up looking like a protest mob in the street. Tempers hadn’t gotten any better as the evacuees had sobered up in the cold, but Maggie had managed to keep them under control and prioritize them according to age—older would get on the buses first. Keeping them herded close together also helped conserve body heat while they waited.
Smith had volunteered to go back into the building to retrieve coats for those who hadn’t had the presence of mind to grab them in their mad rush to get out, which redeemed him somewhat in Maggie’s eyes. Price had headed into Raylene’s building to do one final sweep for stragglers when Smith approached her.
“I know I’m not your commanding officer anymore,” he said. “But good work tonight.”
“Thanks. And thanks for your help.”
He shrugged. “It was the least I could do after sitting behind a desk for the last six months.”
Before she could respond, Maggie felt the street move under her feet, pitching her backwards. Smith, stumbling himself, managed to catch her before they both fell. For an eternal five seconds, the two stood that way as fresh shrieks erupted around them again.
Please, no more, Maggie begged whatever forces there might be in the universe. Haven’t we been through enough yet?
As if in answer to her plea, the ground stilled again. Smith let her go and she stood on her own. Around them, the cries of panic had already begun to fade.
“Anyone hurt?” she shouted.
No coherent answer or cries of pain, which meant they were likely all right. She drew a breath for a sigh of relief, but a tremendous cracking noise caused it to hitch in her throat as she let it out. Then a scream of pain, far away.
“Brian!”
“Stay here!” Smith was already on the move, weaving his way unerringly through the crowd back toward the lobby entrance. Maggie looked up and saw in the moonlight that the second floor had sagged in the center, so that it formed a crumbling V above the first floor. It was on the verge of collapse. She held her breath; suddenly everything in the world came down to Brian Price being safe. Nothing else mattered.
She counted out Mississippis again, a habit left over from childhood. Raylene gripped her shoulder silently as they stared at the building’s façade.
Two things happened then. First, the second floor gave way in a slow, thunderous wave that dropped onto the first. The lobby filled with a cloud of dust and debris that exploded out the door amidst the noise. Maggie waited a beat, her heart crashing against her ribs. Then came a sound that filled her with cool relief and brought tears to her eyes.
“MotherFUCKER, that hurts!”
She pushed through the crowd and ran across the street toward the entrance. A large, lumpy shadow was lurching away from the building. As she got closer, the lump took on some detail in the moonlight: two faces, one on top of the other. Smith’s typical passive one, and Price’s, twisted by pain.
“His leg may be broken,” Smith puffed. “Best get him to the medics when they arrive.”
“What happened?” She ran her hands over Price to check for other injuries.
“Stairwell collapsed,” he grunted. “Next thing I know, this guy’s hoisting me onto his back and swinging us down to the first floor like a fucking chimpanzee.”
She looked at Smith, wide-eyed. “You really were wasted behind a desk.”
“Just glad I could help,” he said.
Maggie leaned in close to Price’s ear. “Don’t do stupid shit like that again, you hear me? You scared me to fucking death.”
She could hear the grin in his voice: “You liiike me.”
In the distance Maggie could hear the approaching whir of bus engines. These days you could hear them coming for blocks, so she used the time to herd people back into their designated areas so they’d be ready to load. After a couple of minutes, the crowd parted as a pair of buses pulled up in the middle of the street, followed by a black Hummer and an ambulance.
Jax and Ruben emerged from the Hummer and jogged over as they caught sight of her in the headlights.
“What’s the situation?” Jax asked. “We felt another quake hit a couple minutes ago. Any damage?”
“Price was in the apartment building and the stairwell collapsed on him. His leg is injured, but Col. Smith managed to get him out.”
Jax’s eyes widened. “Smith? What the fuck was he doing here?”
“It’s a long story,” she sighed. “Where are we taking these people?”
“The Broadmoor. It’s the only place on the grid that has enough space for everyone. I talked to Beckett in logistics and she said it just makes sense to house people in the same building for the sake of conserving power and heat. The more bodies, the more heat. And getting supplies to them will be a lot easier.”
“Easier for you,” she said. “Not for these folks.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” he said, an undertone of irritation in his voice.
“I don’t have any. I’m just really tired and I want these people to be
safe, so let’s get moving.”
Ruben appeared beside them. “Price’s leg isn’t broken; just a bad sprain to his knee, just like I had back in the fall. He’ll be all right if he stays off it.”
Thank God, Maggie sighed inwardly. The thought of dealing with a broken bone in what passed for the medical system these days was enough to give her chills.
“We’ll get a detail on collecting space heaters from the apartments here and transporting them to the Broadmoor,” said Jax.
Maggie glanced over and saw Raylene helping people onto the first bus. They seemed docile enough now, at least. She had no idea what might happen once they were all stuffed into the Broadmoor.
“I better get on that bus,” she said.
“We’ll drive you,” said Jax.
She shook her head. “I’ve been with them this far. I’ll be with them for the rest of the trip. You need to get bodies out into the apartments to grab space heaters and get them to the hotel.”
After checking in with Price, Maggie strode to the first bus and climbed aboard, revelling in the dry heat it generated. She hadn’t realized how cold she was until just now.
“All right, everyone,” she said loudly. The susurrus died down. “We appreciate your patience. We’re headed to the Broadmoor Hotel for the foreseeable future. For those of you not from here, the Broadmoor is the city’s largest hotel. There aren’t enough rooms for everyone, so a few of you will have to double up, but they’re very nice.”
“Not as nice as my apartment,” a woman griped.
“That’s true,” said Maggie. “But it will be warmer, and I think we have to focus on that right now.”
“What about all the soldiers out at Cheyenne Mountain?” asked a bearded man who looked to be in his sixties. He had the ruddy cheeks of a veteran alcoholic. “I bet they get to go back to their place tonight and nothing’s changed. They got power and heat and hot water and cooked food.”
“Yes, they do.” She nodded. “They’re also helping us get you to your new digs as we speak, and they aren’t getting paid to do it, so I think that ends that discussion.”