“Shut up. Just shut up,” I said, trembling with rage and breathing heavily as I looked into his eyes. He frowned at me as he got back on his feet.
“Crazy bitch.” He brushed off his clothes and walked away.
I stormed after him, but Karla grabbed my arm. I turned back to face her, and the sight of her hazel eyes shimmering with tears doused the fire burning inside of me.
“Let it go.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
I didn’t answer, but I didn’t struggle, either. She let go of me. I gave the minivan one last tearful glance before marching back to our classmates.
Chapter 8
With all recognizable landmarks flattened during the earthquake, and our hazy surroundings barely lit up by the crimson glow of the solar eclipse, it was hard to tell how much progress we’d made in our tortuous march to the hospital. Besides, my thoughts still lingered on the baby, wondering how long it would be until he and his mother got a proper burial. I soon lost track of all the twists and turns we made as we bypassed every blocked street.
I sighed with relief as the familiar oak trees and short, cast-iron fences of a small park came into view. I’d spent hundreds of hours at that park with Karla when we were kids. St. Anne’s was just a few blocks away now.
Karla squeezed my hand. “Oh, thank God.” She gave a joyous smile, showing her unnaturally white teeth.
“Yeah, almost there.” I mirrored her smile.
We found even more reasons to be happy as we met with the first signs of government presence since the disaster had struck. It was hardly an impressive operation, though. There was only a squad of soldiers—probably a National Guard unit that happened to be in the area—directing people toward the safety of the park. Many of the people had been injured, and they lay down on the park’s narrow benches or on the trimmed grass along the pathways.
Principal Wong’s lanky figure stuck out from within the crowd gathered there. He smiled as he talked with one of the soldiers, pointing every so often at the students assembled at the edges of the park, but the thick streams of sweat running down his face made his desperation clear. The soldier shook his head without smiling back.
Mr. Jenkins directed us to an empty space on the curb next to the other students. He whipped out the list he’d made back at the school’s parking lot and called out our names. Everyone was accounted for.
“All right, people. I’ll need you guys to stick together and wait for me while I go and see what’s going on, okay?” He sprinted toward the principal.
We immediately proceeded to ignore his directions. Almost half the class rushed after him as soon as he turned his back. The other half was too scared to question orders. The people at the park flocked around the soldiers, demanding answers.
“Where should we go? What’s happening?” a woman asked a young soldier at the edge of the crowd.
Everyone around her echoed her questions. The soldier couldn’t even manage to speak and only stared wide-eyed at the desperate people surrounding him as held tightly onto his rifle. The poor guy didn’t look much older than me. His face seemed smooth even under the layer of grime coating it. He didn't seem to have any privileged information on the ongoing disaster.
I took a deep breath and shoved my way through the desperate mob, hoping to get some answers from the older soldier arguing with the principal. I looked over my shoulder and waved at Karla, urging her to follow me, but she just stood at the edge of the crowd. She leaned away from the struggling bodies, arms raised against her chest as if expecting to be attacked by them.
Meanwhile, the older soldier ended his argument with Principal Wong and motioned for the people surrounding him to quiet down. Despite being shorter than the principal, the man’s thick, muscular neck and broad shoulders gave him an imposing presence. It wasn’t long before the crowd ceased its barrage of questions, allowing the man to speak.
“We cannot ascertain at this time the nature of the disaster since we have been unable to operate any communication devices. That being said, you can rest assured efforts are being made to implement an effective evacuation procedure.”
Oh, come on…
In short, he didn’t know anything either. Still, his convoluted speech satisfied the crowd somewhat. Official-sounding words from a man in uniform could have that effect on some people. At least, Mr. Wong made the most of the lull and managed to address the soldier before the crowd swarmed him with pointless questions again.
“Listen, umm… Sergeant?” he said, staring at the insignia on the man's sleeve. “My students and I are pushing on to the hospital. Some of them are gravely injured and can’t afford to wait until your orders come through. If it’s all right with you, we can take some of the wounded you’ve got here with us.”
I looked around, expecting a wave of enthusiasm for Mr. Wong’s plan. Instead, I found myself enveloped in the droning buzz of insecure murmuring.
Mr. Jenkins made his way through the crowd, staring straight at me. He combed his thinning black hair with his hand, and I assumed he was getting ready to give me a verbal beat-down for not staying put with the rest of the class.
That wasn’t something I looked forward to, so I rushed through the gaps in the mob, taking occasional glances at the furious teacher struggling to keep up. I should’ve paid more attention to where I was going, since I soon ran straight into a lamppost.
“Oww… damn, that hurt!” I clutched my throbbing ear as I turned toward the offending object.
Oh, crap. No way!
It must’ve been fate—a very cruel and stupid fate. Right away, I recognized the warm brown eyes looking down at me, as well the apologetic smile on the man’s stubbled face. When I literally ran into him that morning in the station, I’d mistaken his chest for a brick wall. When banging the side of my head against his arm, I took it for a lamppost. Despite not being overly bulky, Martin was obviously a very solidly built guy. His well-defined muscles were outlined clearly under his white shirt, now stained with dirt and sweat.
“I’m sorry, are you—?” Martin cut his apology short, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.
“Oh, it’s you. Rebecca, isn’t it? Hey, I’m glad you’re safe.” He smiled, showing two rows of perfectly straight teeth.
I combed my dirty, greasy hair behind my ears, which felt as if they were on fire. The heat spread to my cheeks and to the tip of my nose. A cold layer of perspiration covered my palms. I wanted to cry even as a weak chuckle escaped my lips.
“Yeah, I—thanks. You too. I… I have to go.” I rushed past him, my eyes fixed on my grimy sneakers.
Stupid… so stupid…
I didn’t raise my face until I reached my classmates, gathered at the edge of the park. Karla had already joined them and rushed to meet me. She frowned with concern when she took a glance at my face.
“What’s wrong, Becca? Did the army guys say what’s going on?”
I stared at her for a few seconds, but someone tugged at my shoulder before I could form a coherent thought. It was Mr. Jenkins. His face gleamed with sweat as he started scolding me, occasionally looking around to address the others.
I couldn’t hear a word he said. His harsh-sounding speech went right through me, my brain still focused on my humiliating exchange with Martin. I peeked at him whenever Mr. Jenkins focused his attention on someone else. Martin had gathered a sizeable group around him—probably more than fifty people—and was discussing with them what must’ve been his plans for the immediate future. Even as some members of his group got all worked up and even yelled at him, he never lost his composure. He certainly didn’t run away, flushing with embarrassment, like a certain someone had done.
Mr. Jenkins interrupted his rant mid-sentence as one of my classmates hesitantly pointed out that the other classes had begun to move toward the hospital. He checked that all of us were present again, and we took our places in the column. Large clusters of people trailed behind us, carrying with them most of the injured people. I didn’t
fail to notice that Martin’s group had joined us as well.
Not the soldiers, though. They stayed behind, struggling to reassure the few hundred panicked citizens left the park. That was their loss. It wasn’t as if we’d need an armed escort to cross the couple of blocks between the park and St. Anne’s. I made a fist around my silver cross and kissed my knuckles, hoping we wouldn’t run into any trouble along the way.
Chapter 9
We marched at a glacial speed through the thick, swirling dust cloud kicked up by a warm gale howling through the streets. The faint red light from the darkened sun barely pierced the hazy veil, so we couldn’t even see the ground. Every step we took felt like wading through a shallow, murky pond.
The dust in the air was so thick, a block away from the hospital, that breathing became difficult. Some of the boys took off their shirts and wrapped them around their faces, but our clothes were so impregnated with grime and sweat that I wondered if it was any improvement.
I clasped Karla’s hand as we navigated the rows of abandoned cars along the street. A couple of hands kept hold of my shoulders, those walking behind me obviously fearful of getting separated and ending up stranded in the reddish haze. I could barely make out the blurry silhouettes of the guys in front of me. I didn’t let my apprehension slow me down, though—not when we were so close to our objective.
“Hey, what the hell?” a boy right behind me asked.
Without stopping, I turned my head back to see the reason for his surprise. He held a broken piece of smooth white plastic. At first I thought it was some kind of toy, since it had a small panel with an assortment of buttons, but pretty soon I figured out it was part of a bed railing... a hospital bed.
Karla had her eyes fixed on the road, still oblivious to our classmate’s discovery. I kept my mouth shut and quickened my pace, driven by the awful realization weighing down my gut, swallowing mouthfuls of dust as my tense breathing turned into gasping. I feared what I’d find at the end of the block, but the hope that I was mistaken pushed me toward the hospital.
“Slow down, Becca. I can barely see,” Karla said, her feet drumming on the pavement as she struggled to keep up. I almost lost my grip on her hand as thick beads of cold perspiration drenched my skin, but I managed to hang onto her as I dragged her along the street.
“Miss Stirling, come back here right now!” Mr. Jenkins yelled when I rushed past him. “I thought I made it clear we have to stick together!”
I ignored him, my desire to put my fears to rest much stronger than his furious commands. The teacher cursed at the dust storm and hurried after me. He wouldn’t chase after me for long, though, as a solid ring of students and teachers blocked the end of the street.
The students held onto each other, weeping and cursing. Some sat down on the broken road, staring into nothing as tears streamed down their faces. The teachers tried to calm them down but couldn’t even contain their own emotions, their words of reassurance spoken with teary grimaces on their faces. I froze in place at the outskirts of the crowd. Our situation was clear enough without having to see the hospital’s ruins.
Not Karla, though. She escaped my grip and shoved her way through our dejected schoolmates. I chased after her. She made the sign of the cross with a trembling hand, calling upon the Virgin Mary with increasing desperation the closer we got to the hospital.
“Oh, God… oh, God, please, no… Dad!” she screamed, and collapsed to her knees, weeping into her hands. I knelt beside her and hugged her, unable to take my eyes off the ruins. She grasped onto my arms so tightly she buried her fingernails into my skin.
I barely felt the sting, my body numbed by the sight of the hospital's five stories of bright-red brick, spotless white walls, and large sparkling windows pancaked into an amorphous mountain of rubble. Wide plumes rose from the dark crevices of the devastated hospital and were carried away by the waning breeze.
Karla’s body turned cold and limp in my arms.
“Karla? No, Karla, please, stay with me. It’s gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.” I shook her. “I’m sure they evacuated before… before… come on, Lala!”
I frantically rubbed her arms. My eyes were clouded by tears. Her head sagged against my chest. My tears spilled onto her quivering lips. She moaned and whispered unintelligible words. She grasped my shirt and pressed her face against my chest, sobbing with complete abandon. I cradled her head and rested my lips on top of her dirty black hair.
“Dad… Daddy… please, God, no…” she said between sobs.
“He’s fine—I’m sure he’s fine,” I said, wishing I could believe it.
St. Anne’s wasn’t an old hospital. Although such a destructive earthquake was probably the last thing on its designer’s mind, I never thought it would crumble like that. If it couldn’t withstand the violence of the earthquake, then the much taller building in which my parents worked…
“They must’ve had time to evacuate. I know they did,” I said, thinking out loud. Karla nodded feebly and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.
“Hey, I think there’s someone still alive over there!” a girl screamed. She teetered on her scuffed high heels and gripped her short plaid skirt. Karla didn’t seem to hear her and kept on crying, but Mr. Jenkins rushed up to the girl.
“Are you sure? Where?” he asked.
She pointed at a heap of crushed bricks a few yards ahead. Even from a distance, I could see the bricks jostling rhythmically, as if someone really was trying to get out from under the wreckage.
This time none of the other teachers seemed too eager to become impromptu rescuers. The buildings left standing around the hospital loomed over the ruins. I couldn’t blame them. The speed at which our school collapsed proved that there would be no time to run away if those buildings finally toppled over. Only Mr. Jenkins ran toward the brick mound. Loose bits of building material detached from the pile and rolled downhill. Once he reached the site, Mr. Jenkins pushed back the debris with his bare hands. His black hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.
“Can you hear me? Stay calm. We’re gonna get you out of there!” he yelled.
Several of the men who’d joined us in the park rushed to aid him in his rescue attempt. They tossed aside bricks and hunks of rubble, kicking up a broad cloud and raising a terrible racket as they yelled words of encouragement at the trapped survivor.
“I think I see someone in there!” one of the rescuers shouted.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd. Many of them mumbled prayers with teary eyes—Karla among them—hoping to finally get some good news after so much suffering. The rescuers redoubled their efforts to get the survivor out, kicking up even more dust. Mr. Jenkins finally seemed to have reached whoever was trapped under the rubble.
“Okay, I think I can… Jesus Christ! What—?”
He screamed. Fear and pain were tangible in that high-pitched shriek, so powerful that it sapped the warmth from my body. The men who were with him ran out of the haze, screaming, their eyes wide open with fear.
“Run! Run! Come on, get the hell out of here!” one of them managed to yell as he elbowed his way through the bewildered crowd.
Karla shrieked and grabbed my arm with an icy hand, making me turn my eyes back to the ruins. Now it was my turn to scream. Mr. Jenkins crawled away from the dust cloud, leaving behind a bright-red blood trail.
His right leg was gone.
It’d been ripped apart at the knee, and his shredded grey trousers were sodden with blood. I ran toward him, unable to just stand by as he dragged himself through the wreckage.
“No, Rebecca, don’t! Get out of here! Now!” Mr. Jenkins screamed.
I stopped right at the edge of the mountain of debris that had been the hospital, swaying on my weakened legs. I stared at Mr. Jenkins in a catatonic stupor as he desperately crawled toward me on his bloodied hands. He clenched his teeth and grunted with every inch he advanced, his eyes alight with terror.
I didn’t snap out of my tranc
e until I heard the blood-curdling shrieks behind me. The cries that rang throughout the crowd were unlike anything I’d ever heard, the unhinged panic in them bordering on madness.
Of course, none of us had ever come face-to-face with a demon before.
Chapter 10
Three pairs of glowing red eyes stared at me from within the fading dirt cloud. All of them belonged to the same creature.
The beast’s long black snout emerged from the dusty veil as it paced toward me on its massive paws. Grey ram-like horns curved out of its head. Its vast jaws were rimmed with long fangs, stained bright red. Strips of grey fabric were stuck between them. Saliva and blood dripped from the thick black fur around the demon’s mouth and onto Mr. Jenkins’s back. He closed his eyes and covered his head as he whimpered, accepting his fate. The creature glared at me, challenging me to rescue its helpless victim.
I slumped on the pavement and couldn’t get up, my leaden legs sprawled uselessly under me, as if I’d been hypnotized by the creature’s demonic gaze. The beast pinned Mr. Jenkins down with its vicious claws. The teacher wailed and squirmed under the demon’s weight. The monster parted its cavernous jaws and roared, the sound as loud as a freight train’s horn. Its foul breath enveloped me in the stench of putrid meat.
The demon clamped its jaws on Mr. Jenkins’s head and tore it off. I screamed as it feasted on the rest of his body.
A loud blast went off behind me. One of the monster’s eyes exploded, discharging ribbons of black blood. The demon howled, stunned. Martin dashed forward until he stood next to me, holding a gun. He kept a steady aim on the creature’s head and squeezed the trigger again and again with a deliberate calm, betrayed only by the horror in his eyes. The demon’s long fangs shattered as the bullets struck them. Three more of its eyes burst under Martin’s barrage.
The handgun’s empty magazine clinked on the pavement. The monster gathered its strength and advanced toward us with forceful but uncoordinated strides, growling as torrents of dark blood oozed from its face. I shrieked as it swiftly closed the gap between us. The beast’s two remaining eyes burned with murderous intent.
Mercy (The Last Army Book 1) Page 4