Deconstruction- The Complete series Box Set

by Rashad Freeman

  Her father was from South Africa and her mother Honduras. The combination was what I thought every woman should look like. Perfect skin, perfect hair, and a full command of five languages while I struggled with two. I knew it, so it didn't bother me when people would say how lucky I was. I'd rather be lucky than good looking any day of the week.

  "How was work?” she asked.

  I collapsed onto our sofa and tapped the spot to my right. She joined me and leaned into my shoulder while I stroked her hair.

  "It was long," I finally replied. "But you know...just another day at the office."

  Cindy smiled. "I know the feeling. We need a vacation."

  "Now you're talking."

  "I'm serious, I have another month before I take the bar. We should go somewhere. I'm sure I can get away from the office for a week...and a break from studying would probably be good for me."

  "It would be nice to do something different. I'm just not sure if I can get time off right now."

  "Max!" someone yelled as the doorbell rang.

  Cindy groaned and I let out a laugh.

  "You asked for something different," I said and headed to the door.

  I opened it and Brent and Jake stormed inside. They rushed past me and made a beeline for the couch. Cindy barely had time to slide over as they dove onto it and made themselves at home.

  "We got a plan guys," Jake said in excitement.

  "No...no, we are not going out," I replied and held my hands up in a pleading manner.

  Brent and Jake lived next door. We'd known them for about five years and they were still living like we were freshmen in college. Only difference was they had the money of a blossoming start-up to fund their alcohol-driven weekends.

  "Just listen to me, Max," Jake said. He was the salesman of the two. Tall, dark-skinned, and baldheaded, he looked like a wanna be Michael Jordan. He was a pretty funny guy and had absolutely no athletic ability whatsoever, but his charisma went a long way. He could talk himself out of just about anything.

  "Yeah," Brent added. "Listen to him."

  Brent was the brains of the operation. An average sized guy with stringy, brown hair, and glasses. He'd been a coder since he was like twelve and with Jake's inspiration had created some trading algorithm that helped brokers make more money, as if they needed that. When we first met him he was pretty uptight, but nowadays Jake's influence was starting to rub off.

  "Alright, Jake, what is this plan you have?" I asked.

  "Prive is having a giant event tonight. It's DJ Cosmo's launch party. We have to go! We get in there, get some drinks, and get crazy!"

  "This is your big plan?" Cindy sighed and rolled her eyes.

  "Brent got us VIP."

  "You know I hate clubs," I said with disdain and kicked my feet up onto the coffee table.

  "Dude, come on. It's Friday, you guys never do shit anymore. Remember how it used to be? We were like the three musketeers."

  "There's four of us."

  "Yeah, but Cindy is a chick."

  "Hey!" Cindy objected.

  "He means, you're like the fair princess that we have to protect," Brent added.

  "Yeah, that's exactly what I meant. So come on, Max. What do you say? It's VIP...open bar dude."

  Cindy nudged me with her elbow. I turned and she raised her eyebrows and gave me an encouraging shrug.

  "Really?" I asked in shock.

  "Really!" she replied.

  The next thing I knew I was in a noisy nightclub with blinding strobe lights burning my retinas. I could feel the bass vibrating my chest cavity and the multiple shots of vodka were doing nothing to dull my senses.

  The place was packed and whoever this DJ was, he had a lot of friends. I was amazed so many people could fit in one building and if it wasn't for Brent getting VIP we wouldn't have had a place to sit.

  "Come on," Cindy said.

  She grabbed my arm and pulled me to the dance floor. For the next twenty minutes I reluctantly bobbed around with a crowd full of sweaty people, while Cindy pretended I was a stripper pole.

  It was hard to enjoy myself when I had so much on my mind. I really didn't like nightclubs to begin with and now with all that was going on at work, it just felt like more stress that I didn't need. But I was a good sport, so I danced and danced until Cindy told me her feet hurt and she wanted to sit down.

  After that it was back to our VIP booth and more shots until I couldn't see straight. Jake and Brent were doing their best to make me permanently stupid and on some level they certainly succeeded.

  "Enough of this vodka shit," I slurred. "Where's the Patron?"

  "Patron?" Jake echoed. "You sure about that?"

  "Don't you ask me stupid questions. I said Patron Goddamn it."

  Laughing, Jake flagged down our server and soon enough the fiery taste of death was burning its way through my digestive system. Like a toddler I slid off of the sofa and flopped onto the floor in a laughing fit. Everything was suddenly hilarious and I felt like dancing was the only cure.

  Pushing myself onto my knees, I grabbed Cindy around the waist. "Come on...more dancing," I grumbled.

  She stared at me with glossy eyes then mumbled something I couldn't make out. I started to protest, but then I felt the urge to empty my stomach and I threw my hand over my mouth.

  I quickly jumped to my feet and rushed off to the restroom. Bursting through the door, I dove into the first stall and lurched forward. A stream of vomit came spewing out as my knees buckled and I dropped to the floor.

  The toilet was filthy. Stains and puddles of piss were everywhere. But at that point I didn't care. I wrapped my arms around the bowl and heaved forward.

  "Hey man, you okay in there?" Brent called from the door.

  "Argh! Okay!" I shouted back then collapsed face first onto the toilet seat.

  "Alright man...I'll leave you to it."

  He closed the door and left. It took me thirty minutes longer to puke out enough to regain some of my senses. I could barely stand afterward, but I was pretty sure I’d just survived alcohol poisoning.

  Feeling like shit, I shuffled to the sink and doused my head with water. I gargled and spit and washed my face over and over. The taste of vomit still lingered regardless. It was like my taste buds had been permanently damaged.

  I leaned my head back then felt the floor shift a bit under my feet and the mirror trembled. I shook my head from side to side and blinked wildly then slapped myself in the face. I definitely had too much to drink.

  "Get your shit together," I said as I stared into the mirror.

  I smacked myself a few more times and took some deep breaths. Clenching my fists, I screamed at the top of my lungs. My head was still spinning, but the sting on my cheek told me I was awake.

  Feeling a bit more like myself, I headed out of the bathroom. A cluster of women were standing in the hall and giggled as I stumbled by. Some loud trance music was playing and the bass was shaking the walls like a damn speaker grill.

  I staggered my way back to the VIP section. Cindy was slumped over on Jake's shoulder and Brent was twirling around with some blonde chick that was swigging Vodka from the bottle.

  "He's alive," Brent announced as I got closer. "We got bottles to kill before we leave here."

  He grabbed the bottle from his dance partner and held it out to me. I reached for it, but suddenly the floor jutted up and I fell into the wall. The bottle slipped from his hands and burst into millions of tiny glass missiles.

  I straightened up and looked around. Everyone else was glaring in confusion as well. A few people had fallen, others had spilled drinks or knocked over bottles on the bar. This time I wasn't imagining, something was going on.

  "What the hell was that? Brent asked as he chuckled and wrapped his arm around the blonde chick's waist. "Who cares," he continued. "Let's party!"

  Suddenly, the ground moved again and a loud rumble echoed over the music. With a crash, a crack split right down the middle of the ceiling and down the
dance floor like a mirror image. The shelves behind the bar toppled over and gallons of top-shelf liquor spread across the ground like a tidal wave.

  The floor rolled up and down. Fissures split open across the tile and the building shook so violently I thought a train was passing on top of us. The rattling walls made it impossible for me to even think straight and I stood in place like they say possums do when they see headlights.

  The sounds of screams pushed me further into a state of drunken panic. Chunks of plaster and cement collided with human flesh, silencing forever those not quick enough to move. Metal beams snapped from the ceiling and showered the floor like arrows. Chaos spiraled all around me and I was too dazed to react until I heard someone shouting.

  "Earthquake!"

  CHAPTER 3

  AFTERSHOCK

  The air was cloudy and cluttered with dust flakes that threatened to blind me. My ears were ringing like someone had set off a fire alarm and the taste of blood settled at the back of my tongue.

  I stood there in shock, trying to orientate myself, trying to remember where I was...who I was. I struggled to hang onto to simple thoughts and I felt like I was floating through someone else's reality.

  I inhaled the soupy air and felt a sting in my throat. I started to cough so violently that I dropped to one knee and lunged forward. It was my luck that I'd survive the club imploding, only to die from breathing in some toxic material.

  Every breath I took was like swallowing sand. I could feel the air on my tongue as it entered my mouth. Thick debris floated everywhere, it was heavy enough to scoop into your hand like a snowball.

  With a deep, barreling grunt, I cleared my throat, straightened up then started to look around. All hell had broken loose inside of the club. The roof caved in and a thick, slab of concrete leaned against a pole that strained to hold its weight. The sky poured through the opening like a waterfall, but it only brought with it the sounds of sirens and more panic.

  Rubble was everywhere. Dirt-smudged arms poked out from the piles of smoldering brick, reaching for help that couldn't come fast enough. Wires and broken light fixtures dangled from the ceiling, sending sparks and rancid smoke into the air. It was a nightmare, a nightmare that had no end when I awoke.

  Wiping my face, I stretched my jaw and shook my head to clear it. A piercing scream suddenly broke through the clutter and I whipped around. It was answered by another and then shouts of pain and heartbreak joined in like the opening of some morbid orchestra.

  "Cindy!" I shouted. "Cindy!"

  My mind was slowly returning and along with it came a sharp pain in the back of my head. I brushed my hand through my hair and felt the warm trickle of blood, but that didn't matter now, I needed to find Cindy.

  The area we were sitting in was demolished. The couches in the VIP area were covered by a mound of plaster and metal framing. There was nothing left, but destruction.

  I felt my heart stop and a sharp pain ripped through my abdomen. I keeled over and gasped, praying that she'd moved. She must've moved, there was no way she was under that.

  "She's okay," I mumbled to myself and stepped over a massive chunk of concrete.

  Trembling, I moved closer and closer to the debris. Each moment I feared I'd see her lifeless face covered in dust. Each moment I feared I'd become the orchestrator to the collapse of my own world.

  Large chunks of drywall and concrete rested against one another. But she could be alive, she could be alive somewhere under there and she needed my help. I moved some of the twisted, metal beams and started to dig my way through the pile.

  "Max," I heard a soft voice call.

  "Cindy? Cindy! I'm coming!" I yelled.

  Like a madman I started to toss the rubble aside. Jagged shards of beams ripped into my skin, but I didn't feel it. Cindy was somewhere under there and that's all that mattered.

  "Max," she called again.

  "I'm coming, Cindy! Hang on!"

  "Max," another voice called, a deeper voice. "Max!"

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and I whirled around. Brent was standing behind me with wild eyes. Jake and Cindy were right behind him, glaring at me in shock.

  I swallowed then took a deep breath. Cindy rushed toward me and jumped into my arms. I squeezed her and sucked in the smell of her hair, the smell I thought I'd lost forever. Right then I wanted to break down. It took all of me to hold it together.

  "I thought...I thought..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

  "It's okay," she said. "I'm fine."

  "We need to get out of here," Brent snapped. "This place is gonna fall apart."

  I grabbed Cindy's hand and started toward the door. A small crowd of people were slowly moving that way. They seemed as confused as we were. Others were kneeling on the ground crying over dead friends or lovers and even more were crushed under the rubble, either dead or dying.

  "What the hell happened?" Jake asked.

  He never got an answer. As we stepped outside the scene went from tragic to hopeless. The sidewalk rose up and down like roller coaster tracks. Across the street one of the buildings had completely fallen over and hundreds of injured and disorientated people stomped around aimlessly.

  A giant crevice had opened in the middle of the road. Blistering, steam rose from it and police were desperately trying to keep people from falling in. Intoxication, panic and holes didn't mix well.

  Sirens and flashing red and blue lights lit up the night sky. Emergency responders shouted and pointed in random directions, only adding to the confusion. The scene was complete pandemonium and we were right in the middle of it.

  "Jesus..." Brent mumbled.

  "Come on," I said and grabbed Cindy by the wrist.

  I led her down the part of the sidewalk that was still flat then crossed the street yards away from the gaping wound. We nudged our way through the crowd and made it to the far side where it was a little less congested.

  "Dude, you're bleeding," Jake said as he reached out and grabbed my arm.

  "Yeah, something fell on me in there I guess. I don't remember, but I feel fine."

  Cindy rubbed her hand across the back of my head and I winced. She rubbed the blood between her fingers and frowned.

  "I'm fine. Seriously, I'm fine."

  "Whatever, Rambo," Jake said, trying to lighten the mood. "Rub some dirt on it."

  "We've got to get home," I sighed. "The longer we stay out here the harder it's gonna be."

  "Look!" Jake suddenly said and pointed back across the street.

  A tail of smoke plumed from the nightclub like a train. The outside walls were leaning from side to side as more of the ceiling gave. Then, with a loud clap, the walls collapsed and the building crumbled into a pile of smoldering rubble.

  Cindy let out a high-pitched groan. "People were still in there," she said. "We should've helped."

  "There was nothing we could've done," Jake replied. "We just would've died with them."

  Cindy winced at the thought, but didn't respond. We collectively sat in silence for a moment. Every one of us knew people that were in there, from the DJ to the bartenders and waitresses. We'd become regulars at that club and in the snap of a finger it was gone.

  I squeezed my right hand as my fingers started to shake. It was hard to rationalize what I was seeing, hard to control the flood of emotions ripping through my body. I’d almost died in there and as I looked around I still wasn’t in the clear.

  "I...I can't believe this," Cindy mumbled and pulled at her hair. "All of those people...they're, they're all dead."

  I stared at the remains for another minute, but felt like we'd lingered too long. I wanted to run, to get as far away from that place as I could. The city wasn't safe, we weren't safe, and we needed to get home.

  Before I could say a word the ground shook again. Cindy grabbed my arm to steady herself and I could see the terror in her eyes. I clenched my jaw and prepared myself for the worst.

  Luckily, it passed quickly and my heart slowed just a bit.
My nerves were fried and the calm demeanor I kept trying to show Cindy was riddled with hairline fractures. But I needed to keep it together.

  "Just a tremor," I said.

  I'd lived in LA for a while and earthquakes weren't new to me, but one in Atlanta was beyond shocking. It was out of place and hinted at things much worse to come. I fought with myself about what it could really mean and tried to ignore the voice in my head that had already come to a bleak conclusion.

  "Just a tremor?" Jake screeched. "Just a tremor? I'm pretty sure I shit myself, man."

  I wrapped an arm around Cindy's shoulder and pulled her toward me. She was shaking and had a frazzled look on her face.

  "Hey," I whispered. "We're okay. I'm gonna get you home, alright?"

  She nodded and I started to walk her back down the sidewalk. Brent and Jake followed as we passed more dazed bar patrons and people from the surrounding buildings that had barely escaped with their lives.

  "Do you have a plan?" Brent asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  "We're walking toward midtown...I know you're not planning on taking the fucking underground train home."

  I stopped and slapped my palm to my forehead. "Shit! We're just gonna have to walk."

  "Dude, that's like ten miles," Jake protested.

  "You got a better idea? All I know is I'm not staying around here."

  Jake chewed the inside of his gum for a minute and looked back toward the club. Police and fire-rescue workers were moving around like a swarm of ants. People were laid out in stretchers or in the middle of the road, groaning in pain. More people wandered around like zombies, blood dripping from wounds or bones jutting from their skin like spikes.

  He scratched his head and I could see the little wheels spinning. It was like his mind was a Rubik's cube and someone was twisting and cranking it around trying to get it just right. After an agonizing thirty seconds he finally tossed his hands into the air and grunted.

  "Fine, let's go," he replied.

  In a clouded daze we headed out. No one really spoke as the rush of adrenaline subsided and we found ourselves battling exhaustion and shock. My head was cluttered with nonsense and speculation, making rational thought nearly impossible. So, I just focused on walking, focused on putting one foot in front of the other.