The Gamer's Guide to Getting the Girl

by Kristine Scarrow

  I wait as they absorb what’s happened around them.

  “The tornado did all of this,” Betty says to no one in particular. It’s hard to believe that seven minutes of a swirling vortex could be capable of this level of destruction.

  “My bag!” Samara says. “It’s still back there!” She points to where I found her and her mom.

  “It’s okay, I’ll get it,” I say. I step back through the debris to where they were trapped. Sure enough, Samara’s bag is there. Her sketchbook peeks out from the top of the bag. I reach down to scoop it up, and I see Samara’s mom’s backpack nearby. Something orange catches my eye on the ground a few feet away. I use my foot to clear some of the metal so that I can get a better look. I uncover several prescription bottles — some open and empty. Various pills also dot the floor in places.

  Does this mean it was Alec and Betty who looted the pharmacy in Shoppers Drug Mart? Betty must’ve realized she didn’t have her bag either when Samara mentioned missing hers, but she didn’t ask me to retrieve it. Did she leave it behind intentionally? I picture how happy Samara looked when her mom put her arm around her. How they talked about a new start. I pull the metal back to cover the area. Some things are better left behind.

  I pass Samara’s bag to her. On the way down the stairs, we pass Peter, Mildred, Rory, and the man in the business suit. Thankfully, he’s given up clanging his cuffs against the handrail, but he doesn’t look any happier.

  “We’ll get you with the others,” I tell Betty and Samara. I show them the path that A.J. and Joaquin carved for us and they follow me to where the floor is clear from debris.

  “Just follow this. See where Gamer’s Haven is? Turn left at the end there to get to the food court. I’ll be there soon.”

  Samara takes her mom’s hand and together they wade through the water toward the food court. Seeing Gamer’s Haven ahead of me makes me choke up thinking of Chris. Whatever happened overnight, I hope he’s safe with his wife and his new baby. I guess time will tell.

  I decide to go back to wait with Peter and Mildred. She’s probably really scared about getting carried out of here, and maybe I can help distract her or keep her calm. I teeter carefully down the path, careful to avoid any of the juts of metal and concrete that seem to have tumbled closer to each other, narrowing our trail.

  I’m incredibly relieved to have found Samara, and even more to know that she has her mom right now — in the way that she needs her. I know it’s not this easy, that it’ll take time and may not last, but it’s a step in the right direction. I hear sirens in the distance. I smile. Medical care is coming. George will get what he needs. Hopefully my parents are somewhere nearby, safe and waiting for me. The thought that I may see them soon thrills me.

  “Zach!” It’s Valerie.

  “Why are you coming back this way? Are you okay?”

  “We’re fine!” Valerie assures me. She’s balancing Ira on her hip. “Actually, we’re more than fine! My husband, Joshua, is here — Ira’s dad. Turns out he was waiting out the storm at the bank down the street. He was nearby the whole time.”

  “Oh, that’s so awesome!” I tell her. “You get to go home?”

  “I hope so. If we find a way there,” Valerie says. “I just had to come back and say thanks. And I guess goodbye.”

  “Here, I’ll walk back with you. Make sure you get there safely.”

  “You’re such a great young man, Zach,” she says seriously.

  “Thanks,” I say shyly.

  Ira reaches out to me again. Valerie hands him over to me. “He just loves you!” she says, laughing. I pretend to chomp on his fingers and he dissolves into giggles once more. The sound is contagious, and it’s just the kind of sound we all need to hear right now.

  Samara sees us coming and runs up to join us. She watches as Ira sneaks his little hands near my mouth only to see me pretend to eat them up.

  “Can I come see him sometime?” I ask Valerie. Ira’s such a cool little kid.

  “Of course!” Valerie says. “He’d love that. I’d love that!” Valerie digs in her bag for a pen and something to write on. She scribbles down her phone number on a paper scrap and hands it to me.

  “Awesome. And if you ever need a babysitter …” I say. “I know I have a lot to learn still but —”

  “I’ll help him,” Samara offers.

  Valerie gives me a knowing smile. “I think you’ll be just great with him,” she assures me.

  “Take care, little buddy!” I say, handing him back to his mom. I wave at him again and he tries his best to flap his hand back at me. They scurry off to find Valerie’s husband.

  “That kid adores you,” Samara says.

  I grin. “He’s a pretty cool kid.”

  “He’s not the only one who —” Samara is cut off by the sound of sirens approaching. We race toward the food court table where they’ve placed the paddleboard to keep George off the water that blankets the ground. He’s still unconscious, but he’s breathing.

  Two paramedics step through the food court doors with their kits. I take a moment to survey the scene. While some of the storefronts and tables have been blown clear, others remain perfectly in place, unaffected by the storm. “Weird,” Samara says.

  Erwin calls for me so that we can explain the timeline and what we did to get George breathing again. The paramedic takes George’s vitals and continues to ask us questions.

  He’s calm and professional — and I realize that I’m in awe of his composure. I hope I can gain the skills to tackle medical emergencies the same way one day. I’ve gotten a taste of what it’s like to help save people and I want more. I want to learn and grow and become as adept at it as this paramedic seems to be.

  “And you are?” the paramedic asks me. His eyes are kind, and his smile is reassuring.

  “Zach.”

  “How old are you, Zach?” he asks.

  “Fifteen.”

  He whistles and nods his head in surprise. “You did an incredible thing today, Zach.” He pats me on the back. His name tag says his name is Matt.

  “Thanks, but it was a group effort,” I say.

  “How do you know CPR?” he asks.

  “Training to be a lifeguard. But your job looks pretty cool, too,” I say.

  He laughs lightly. “Yeah, it can be pretty cool. Sounds like you’re well on your way.”

  I step out of the way as the two paramedics talk and then load George onto a proper stretcher. “Haven’t seen that before,” Matt says, smiling and pointing to the paddleboard.

  “Anyone else hurt?” the other paramedic asks. He points at my arm. “I think we should have a look at that.”

  “It’s fine,” I say. “Just a little scratch. The gauze is overkill.” It still hurts but I don’t want to be the focus here. “She’s going to need some assistance,” I say, pointing to Samara. Blood has run down her legs in thin streams from her cuts. He motions for her to have a seat on one of the food court chairs and examines her more closely.

  “We’ve also got an elderly couple still in the stairwell,” I tell them. “I think they might need some attention.”

  Just then, two police officers enter through the smashed-in doors.

  “Is everyone here accounted for?” a male officer asks. Everyone looks around trying to gauge who might be missing.

  “No,” Erwin says grimly. He takes the officer to the side to fill him in about those still missing — Chris, and even Alec — and about the resident jewellery thief among us, the handcuffed business man waiting in the stairwell with Rory.

  “Not only that, but I’ve got two stores that I know of that have been broken into by looters. I don’t know who’s responsible for them, but there could be even more. We weren’t as secure as we would’ve liked,” Erwin says, indicating the food court doors. “Plus, we were in the stairwell for the majority of the storm. It was safer that way.”

  The officer nods. “In a crisis most of us look for safety, but unfortunately some people see di
sasters as opportunity.”

  The idea that the looters could have been roaming the mall the whole time we were stuck makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I hope the police are able to catch whoever was doing the break-ins.

  “Is he going to be okay?” I ask the paramedics as I bid George goodbye.

  “You guys have done a great job keeping him stable,” the second paramedic says. I know they probably aren’t sure themselves of George’s prognosis at this point, but I’m relieved that George is in good hands.

  “How will you get to the hospital with the bridge out?” I ask.

  “Oh, he’s going by helicopter,” Matt tells me.

  “That wasn’t an ambulance we heard?” Cooper asks.

  “That was the police. With that bridge out, our only access point is the grid road — and it’s been jammed with cars. Now that the tornado is over with, we’ll have him at the hospital in about ten minutes,” Matt assures us.

  “That was some kind of tornado,” I say.

  “They’re calling it an EF5,” Matt says. “Only the second in Canada’s history, but they’re calling this one the worst. By the looks of this building, I’d say you were all very lucky.” The paramedics bid us goodbye, and they roll the stretcher out of the mall.

  I remember from school how tornadoes are rated on a damage scale, named after a Dr. Fujita who studied them. It rates the severity of a tornado based on wind speeds and the amount of destruction it leaves behind. The magnitude could be ranked as F0 to F5, with F5 being the worst. Dr. Fujita’s scale later became the EF-Scale, or the Enhanced Fujita Scale. If Matt’s report is correct, and we’ve just experienced a real EF5 tornado, then we had just lived through one of Mother Nature’s biggest threats to human survival.

  “Saskatoon has declared a state of emergency,” I hear the officer tell the group. “The Red Cross is sending rescue teams to come and help. There are tent hospitals being set up in parking lots all over the city to treat the injured. We’ll have to get some engineers in here to help remove the wreckage — it looks like the roof got blown clear off this place.”

  “Pretty much,” Erwin says.

  “I don’t know how you’re going to find anyone in there,” I say. “It’s full of concrete and metal and glass.”

  “We have our ways,” the officer says. “We’ve got special cameras and life detectors that we can use. We’ll even be sending our dogs through here.”

  The rest of us listen intently, impressed.

  “We should go and get Mildred now,” Erwin says, holding up the paddleboard.

  “Only the people who can help carry,” the officer says. “Everyone else is to remain here.”

  I look for Samara and our eyes meet. This time Cooper is across from me and his back is to her, so I know that her gaze is meant for me. It feels electric, a laser beam gaining magnetic energy as the two of us stare at each other. She waves at me. My hands turn cold and clammy, my stomach somersaults.

  “Zach, let’s go!” Cooper calls out.

  He’s already heading back into the mess with A.J., Joaquin, Erwin, and the police officer to help get Mildred. I wave and jog toward the group. Water splays wildly as I slosh through it, drawing attention to myself. I turn to glance at Samara one more time and this time she’s laughing. For just having been in the most terrifying situation of my life, this particular moment on the same day feels pretty amazing.

  TIP #16

  Accept setbacks as another part of the journey

  The officer leads the way through the water. A.J., Joaquin, Erwin, Cooper, and I all follow. We’ll need to take turns carrying Mildred, and Peter might need assistance, too. The officer will be busy with Rory and our jewellery thief.

  When we get to the centre of the mall where the debris is piled, the officer stops and stares in disbelief. “I can’t even believe my eyes right now,” he says. “You are all lucky to be alive.”

  We nod, remembering the terrifying storm, the deafening roar of the tornado, the uncertainty about whether or not we’d be swept away in the black vortex. I follow close behind the others, eager to see how Peter and Mildred are doing. It takes us a while to step through the pathway.

  “Are we going to be able to navigate this with the paddleboard?” A.J. asks. The path is shrinking by the minute as the debris slips back toward the open space he and Joaquin cleared.

  “I’m not sure it’s safe for you guys to follow,” the officer says. “We don’t need anyone else getting hurt. Nothing here looks stable.” The sounds of metal and glass creaking and settling makes for an eerie symphony.

  “You aren’t going to be able to do this alone,” Erwin says. “We need to get them out of here as soon as we can and who knows when more help will arrive.”

  The officer hesitates.

  “It’s not going to be easy,” Erwin agrees. “Let’s just try to get this done as quickly as we can.”

  The officer opens the steel stairwell door and I hear a collective sigh of relief from those left in the stairwell, except maybe the business man, although I can’t see his face.

  As I step into the small open floor area in front of the stairwell, a large piece of debris falls from the ceiling onto my head. I yelp from the pain when it connects, knocking me to my hands and knees. The object makes a loud clatter as it bounces off of the tile floor.

  Everyone turns.

  “Zach?” Cooper says, concerned. “What was that?”

  “I don’t know,” I say from the floor. “Something just fell from the ceiling.”

  “Are you okay?” he asks. Everyone gathers around me.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” There’s a sharp piercing pain on the side of my head.

  “What was it?” he asks.

  “I don’t know? A rock? A piece of metal?”

  We all look around for whatever hit me, but there’s so much stuff strewn around already, it’s hard to tell if there’s been a new item added to the mix.

  “I bet it was this.” Cooper lifts a thick chunk of metal from just beyond the crown of my head.

  “It’s nothing. Just a bump on the head,” I say. I try to get myself up but it’s harder than I expect. My back sears with pain as well. I slump down onto my butt.

  “Take it easy,” Cooper says. “Don’t rush.”

  I try to stand again but my body feels weak and unsteady. My head spins and I reel back.

  “Zach, maybe you should stay down.” Cooper places his hand on my good arm.

  “I’m fine. Let’s go.” I brush Cooper’s hand away and rise to my feet again. The room spins and white spots blur my vision. I stumble backward.

  “Okay, that’s it. You’re staying put,” Cooper orders. He shoves me down to sitting.

  “I just need a minute,” I say, but then I’m not really sure.

  “Don’t move,” Edwin says.

  I don’t know how I feel so disoriented. “Are you dizzy?” I ask.

  Cooper shakes his head. “No, I’m fine. But you’re clearly not.”

  “Let’s lie him down,” Edwin instructs.

  The room tilts again and this time my stomach roils. A cold sweat blankets me. I put my head in my hands to try to minimize the spinning sensation. Once I’ve steadied myself I realize that my right hand feels warm and sticky. I pull it away and see that it’s wet with bright red blood.

  Cooper gasps.

  I touch the area again and come away with fresh blood.

  “Oh my God!” Cooper’s mouth hangs open.

  I stare back at him, dazed. I blink a few times as I take in his face.

  “Zach is hurt! Really badly!” Cooper screams.

  “I’m fine …” I stammer, but even I’m not so sure anymore. Things become blurry again. Bile somersaults in my stomach. I fight the urge to vomit.

  “You need to stay still,” Cooper says sharply. He takes off his hoodie and presses it into a ball so that I can use it as a pillow. “Lie back on this,” he instructs. I try to settle backward but everything spins and I
clutch my head again. Cooper guides me down and sets me gently onto his hoodie.

  “I’m trying to get a better look,” Cooper says. I can feel his cool fingers gently combing through the hair on the right side of my head. He’s studying the top of my head closely. I shut my eyes for a brief second. The darkness is soothing. My head feels like it’s been swirling in a blender — a combination of pain and disequilibrium. I relish being still. I think again of my parents and of Marshall and where they might be right now. I wonder if the tornado has touched down in several places or if by some miracle the mall is the only place hit. My mom’s face comes into view. She’s leaning over me.

  “Zach, I’m so proud of you,” she says softly. “You’ve done amazing things today.”

  I nod and reach for her neck so that I can hug her.

  “It’s okay. Just rest.”

  “Mom! Mom!” I reach for her again. Instead of holding me tight, she tries to pry my arms from her neck.

  “Don’t go!” I plead. I just want the safety and comfort of her right now.

  “Zach!” I hear. “Zach!” The sound is familiar, but it’s not my mom’s voice. I try to follow the sound. I work at opening my eyes. I want so desperately to feel my mom’s arms around me. I start to see some light again.

  “Mom?” I say to the light.

  “What should we do?” I see the faint outlines of what look like heads close together.

  “There’s really nothing we can do,” I hear. “We’ll have to wait for medical care.”

  The heads nod and grow quiet. It dawns on me that this might be serious. A mistake like this might cost me the game. There is no reset button, no extra lives that let me start back at the original checkpoint. I fall into sleep again.

  My mind plays a movie of weird dreams while I rest. A reunion with my parents and brother. The looters chasing me through the dark mall, except I’m tripping on debris and I can’t outrun them. The skunk that scared Cooper and me; it’s rabid and trying to attack me. Me and Samara alone in the stairwell, arguing.

  “I didn’t want you to know the truth about my family,” Samara says.

  “You didn’t even give me a chance. But you shared it with Cooper?”