Aftermath [Book 0.5]

by J. S. Donovan

  Calvin thought aloud. “Something doesn’t add up.”

  Naomi’s heart felt like it was in a vise grip. She recapped the day. Calvin was getting up from the couch where he’d been sleeping the last few weeks. Trinity was in the living room, packing her book bag. Did she say anything? Naomi didn’t remember. If she did, it was of little consequence. Trinity got a text, said a hurried goodbye, and rushed out the front door. Naomi watched her drive away with Becca. Then Naomi and Calvin loaded up into his Ford Explorer. They fought about the delayed sink repairs. However, they both knew the fight was really about them spending too much time at work. Calvin dropped Naomi off at the subway station like every morning and sped along to the university across the river. The rest was history.

  Calvin’s frustration grew. “Did she say anything to you? Show any signs of irrational behavior?”

  Naomi opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. It dawned on her that the last time she talked--really talked--to her daughter was weeks ago. Their relationship was shaped by work, and personal computers consumed their time at home. Surely, though, there must have been some telltale sign of discontentment. Naomi really didn’t know. Her patients sapped most of her time and mental energy. The lack of response was enough to answer Calvin’s questions. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose until it turned white under his fingers.

  After a moment, Naomi gently touched Calvin’s arm and eased it away from his face. She spoke as surely as she could. “We’ll find her.”

  He looked her in the eyes. Frustration had been replaced with fear. “If our baby girl is out on the road somewhere, in this mess...”

  “We’ll find her.” Naomi hugged him, allowing her warmth to calm him.

  Inside, her uncertain words sickened her. That was always the issue she had with therapy: it was easy to give advice, to say the right things, and to show the proper amount of affection in order to mitigate stress. It was much harder to actually believe it.

  Still, she would find her daughter. She didn’t have any other options.

  They pulled their bikes from the frosty grass and rode on, feeling the wind current pushing them. Maybe Trinity had gone home when this whole thing happened. Nothing was certain, but it beat the alternative: biking down every street in Philly until they found a thirteen-year-old Catholic schoolgirl.

  Chestnut Street was a mess. Cars had slammed into buildings. People on the sidewalk were getting antsy. A fight almost broke out between two men, though the reason was unknown.

  Naomi stuck to the smaller Ludlow Street. It was single lane and lined with parallel-parked cars. To the left were a number of symmetrical and interconnected two-story townhouses painted white with deep red window shutters and black gates barring their doors. She envied the practical application of a gated door like that might hold when people learned the power wouldn’t be coming back for weeks.

  Ludlow passed through a few other streets of row houses. Some were three stories. Others had four. Many were red brick, but some had been painted white, cyan, and mossy green. The color was more drab than vibrant and the overcast weather made it look even more depressing.

  A group of warmly dressed people stood outside their homes. Breathing into their cupped hands, they watched Naomi and Calvin bike by. The stranger eyed their bikes with jealous fascination. Naomi kept her cool..

  They passed by the futuristic Integrated Science Center at Drexel University. Calvin looked up at the imposing building. By the harrowing expression on his face, he must’ve been thinking about all the research that was lost.

  Seven cars piled up at the center of a bridge crossing over the Schuylkill River. Crinkled metal, small engine parts, and blood painted the sidewalk. A dead body was covered. Two EMTs had lined up twelve people and were checking their injuries one at a time. Some had lacerations, others lost teeth, and everyone had bruises. With a sour expression, a crying six-year-old boy clenched the upper portion of his limp arm.

  Across the river, dozens of skyscrapers jutted into the grey sky. Massive construction cranes had ceased working around a build site. A worker in an eighty-foot high boom lift screamed for help. A large crowd of workers gathered below, pointing up at him but unable to act.

  The cold sank in.

  Naomi sniffled.

  A snowflake touched down on her nose. Another followed. Then another.

  Within seconds, light snow flurries danced in the air.

  Naomi and Calvin stood up on their bikes and picked up the pace. They zipped by the construction workers. Stragglers dashed across the street in search of shelter within coffee houses and restaurants.

  Naomi and Calvin turned onto 20th Street. They rolled by the elegant Rittenhouse Hotel. BMWs, Bentleys, Escalades, and other luxury cars were dead out front. Rich men and women complained to each other about the lack of service. Most waited in the lobby. A few police officers attempted to keep them calm. Nevertheless, even the officers looked shaken. One was constantly turning back to the small gaggle of haggard, homeless men conspiring across the street.

  Naomi and Calvin turned into Rittenhouse Square. The park was empty. Wreaths were strung up on wires that hovered above the pathways. Skyscrapers and other tall buildings bordered the square, making it a bastion of solitude in the busy city. Naomi remembered the wonderful dates she had shared with Calvin many years ago. Back then, snow dressed bushes and trees. Hot coco warmed her hands. In happy silence, the two of them would walk and trade small smiles with other couples. The place was vacant now.

  Calvin took point as they cut over to Locust Street and zipped by the gothic-looking Saint Marks Church. Up ahead, taverns, pubs, and bars lined both sides of the road. It was early enough in the day that no one was around.

  They’d only been biking for about twenty minutes, but Naomi was doused in sweat. It chilled quickly and left her feeling cold and muggy. Her thin gloves didn’t help much. As they passed the intersection of Locust and 16th, Calvin and Naomi heard a rumbling noise. They slowed down just in time to see the early 1980s diesel truck speed down the road. Engine roaring, it swerved through traffic and out of sight.

  Naomi gawked at Calvin. “Holy crap. I thought every vehicle was disabled.”

  Calvin thought on it. “Only ones that relied on electronic components. There’s a good chance that diesels pre-‘85 could still run.”

  Naomi thought about it. “Then your junkyard car--”

  “It’s a project car,” Calvin corrected. “Yeah, it might do the trick.”

  She hoped so. It was about time they did something with that ugly old beater Calvin spent nearly every weekend tinkering with.

  They reached the intersection at Broad Street. Half of it was on fire, probably from the leaking fluid Naomi saw early. An entire block of cars was burnt to a crisp. Far beyond that, a large group of cops formed a barricade outside of City Hall. A crowd of shouting pedestrians gathered around them. The words were lost with distance, but it was obvious they were probably demanding answers. More people gathered on Broad Street, heading toward the police. A few bicyclists zipped by.

  Calvin folded in with the cyclists and zipped ahead of Naomi.

  “Where are you going?” She called out.

  Calvin looked over his shoulder. “Finding Trinity!”

  Grumbling, she followed him. They stayed on the sidewalk, avoiding any debris that could pop their tires. They got to the crowd, only to hear them jeering, screaming, and complaining at the officers.

  A burly man yelled. “I have three kids out here who need medical attention, and hospitals are shutting their doors!”

  “Tell us what’s going on here! It’s our right to know!” a woman screamed.

  “Come on, pigs. Do something!”

  Calvin and Naomi cruised around the back of the crowd, looking for Trinity. They called her name and asked various strangers if they’d seen a thirteen-year-old girl in a school uniform. They gave them the cold shoulder. Naomi went to the other side of the crowd and asked
around. No one cared to answer. Calvin rolled up next to her. “We need to talk to the police!”

  “They are a little busy!” Naomi shouted over the angry crowd.

  Calvin ignored her. “Wait here!”

  He got off his bike, gave her the handlebar, and shouldered his way into the crowd. He vanished into the mass of people.

  Naomi stood with both bikes, anxiously looking around. A middle-aged man asked her where she got her ride. Naomi said nothing and moved away from the crowd. She parked herself in a small alley and rested the bikes against the wall. Taking a deep breath, she waited for Calvin.

  She opened her purse and pulled out a piece of gum, hoping chewing would get her mind off her empty stomach. As she closed her purse, someone grabbed her arm.

  She twisted back to the crazy-eyed gangbanger. He wore baggy sweats over gym shorts, boots the color of hide, and a large beanie. One of his hands stayed in his heavy coat pocket while the other hand squeezed the life from Naomi’s upper arm.

  She froze.

  The color left her face. Every muscle went tense. She went to look over her shoulder when she felt something poke her belly. She glanced down at the two-inch knife prodding her stomach.

  “Wallet. Make it quick,” the man hissed, looking over her shoulder for any witness.

  The cops were a hundred feet away. The displeased crowd grew louder. Their shouts ricocheted off the walls of buildings and muted Naomi’s chance of having her scream be heard.

  She kept her eyes on the stranger and slowly put her hand into her purse. “I’m just grabbing my wallet.”

  He would’ve been able to take the purse if both of his hands weren’t full. Naomi slipped her hand inside and grabbed a small bottle beside her wallet. The man leaned over to steal a peek. Naomi brushed her fingertip across the bottle, searching for the indented nozzle. Finding it, she slowly started to draw it out. The man watched with big, bug eyes.

  As fast as she could, Naomi pulled out the pepper spray and sprayed him across the eyes. The man screamed and staggered. Naomi dashed back a few steps, losing her footing and landing on her bottom, all the while keeping the constant stream of spray flying across the man’s face. His eyes clenched tightly. His skin turned red. He screamed, spitting and crying. Naomi yelled for help as the man turned around and staggered down the alley. His body bounced between the buildings like a pinball as he groped walls aimlessly. Soon he was out of sight.

  Naomi quickly scrambled to her feet. Her whole body trembled. She glanced behind her to see if anyone heard her cry. The crowd kept on yelling at the police. One of them threw a brick. No one had heard her. Naomi felt the world spinning. She put a hand on the nearby wall to keep her balance. Her breathing quickened. Her throat seemed to clog up. She could hardly think straight. It was like she was suffocating.

  A hand touched her shoulder. She twisted back as fast as lightning with the spray bottle aimed at Calvin.

  He took a step back and put his hands up. “Whoa.”

  Naomi glanced at the crowd behind him and then back to the alley where the mugger had vanished. Without a word, she hugged Calvin tightly. She didn’t want to let go. Not ever again.

  “What happened?” Calvin asked.

  Naomi didn’t want to relive it. “Just… don’t run away like that. Okay?”

  “Naomi.”

  She glared him with fierce teary eyes. “Okay?”

  Calvin saw her fear. “It won’t happen again.”

  Naomi detached herself from him and got on her bike. She clenched the handlebars tightly to hide the shaking of her hands. Calvin looked at her for a moment, his expression begging for answers.

  Naomi started pedaling. “Hurry up.”

  Without another word, they started in the opposite direction of the crowd. It wasn’t until they were two blocks away when he said that he couldn’t get the police's attention. The one officer that had responded did not remember seeing any girl like Trinity. As they cruised away from Broad Street, they kept an eye out for Becca’s car, but had no luck. They weren’t sure if that was good or bad.

  They stayed on Locust Street. Jefferson University Hospital had long lines of injured people out in front. There were a few tents set up outside where volunteers observed patients. The job had no end in sight. It was past lunchtime. People were getting hungry. They passed by Pennsylvania Hospital and it was even worse. A massive horde of injured gathered outside, demanding entry. Some had broken bones. Others held their limp loved ones. The cold weather had them coughing. Naomi wondered how the frail old lady and young mother were holding up.

  They cut through Washington Square, the city park with memorials to George Washington and the unknown soldiers of the American Revolution. They went by a large stone monument that read: Freedom is a Light For Which Many Men Have Died in Darkness. In front of it, a bronze cast statue of Washington stood over a large coffin with an endless oil flame burning nearby. Naomi wondered what the founding fathers would think if they saw America now. They probably would’ve adapted better.

  “Hey,” Calvin interrupted Naomi from her thoughts. “Do you want to talk about what happened in the alley?”

  Naomi slowed down, realizing how hard she’d been pushing herself since the attempted mugging. “Not really.”

  Calvin didn’t push.

  What’s done was done, Naomi thought. She couldn’t change it, but she would be more mindful in the future.

  The last landmark they zipped by was Independence Hall: a red-brick colonial-style monolith with flat colonnades built into its front and a breathtaking clock tower. It had golden numerals and a belfry. The Declaration of Independence and U.S. Constitution were signed in that building. The rich history was part of the reason why Naomi and Calvin wanted to live in Society Hill.

  The forty-minute bike ride ended back in their neighborhood. They rode across old cobblestone streets. Systematically-planted trees and classy early 19th-century homes flanked both sides. Small American flags jutted out above doorposts. A handful of steps led to every door. The streets were empty. Quiet. Picturesque. Snow fell in bursts.

  Naomi and Calvin dismounted their bikes at the steps of the 3rd Street townhouse. Naomi got the door while Calvin carried the bikes inside. Not thinking, Naomi flipped on the light switch. Calvin gave her a look.

  “Old habits,” Naomi replied.

  Calvin leaned the bikes up against the inner wall and locked the door behind him. The house was uncharacteristically dark. Naomi opened the shutters, allowing outside light to stream across the hardwood floors. Family photos decorated the walls, but most were of Trinity: her piano concerts, ballet dancing, and her first time at a ski resort. Only one picture caught Naomi’s eye. It was of her parents’ farmhouse in the Shenandoah Valley. She spent the first eighteen years of her life in the valley, pulling weeds, planting crops, and brushing horses. It was a simple time that Naomi wanted nothing more than to escape when she was young.

  “Trinity!” Calvin called out into the quiet house.

  The two of them scouted the house. They both started with Trinity’s room. There was an old toy chest, a countless number of neglected stuffed animals, and a desk holding Calvin’s hand-me-down Mac tucked against the pink walls. They checked in the closet and under the bed.

  Naomi checked the desk drawer. “Doesn’t she have a diary?”

  “On her computer,” Calvin replied.

  Naomi sighed.

  “Welcome to the twenty-first century,” Calvin said.

  They split up.

  Naomi went to her office, noticing a few patient files on the desk. Her stomach twisted as she thought about her clients. On the wall behind the desk hung her diploma from the University of Pennsylvania along and photos from the seminars she had hosted. On the shelf were all sorts of academic studies of the mind and personalities along with the books Naomi had authored. Not finding Trinity, Naomi returned to the kitchen.

  Calvin returned a moment later with a discouraged look. He took a deep breath an
d opened the fridge.

  “Don’t waste the cold,” Naomi warned.

  “I’m just getting us some water and some lunch meat.”

  With all the craziness that had happened, Naomi had forgotten to eat. “Let’s just grab and go.”

  Calvin nodded. “Agreed.”

  They put together a quick lunch. Naomi didn’t realize how hungry she was until she started eating. Calvin downed his water and grabbed another bottle. There were only a few left in the fridge.

  Naomi spoke with her mouth full. She looked out of the distant window. “We need to get ahold of Becca’s parents.”

  “I’ll give them a call right now,” Calvin said, sticking his new water bottle in his back pocket.

  “Ha. Ha,” Naomi replied dryly.

  Calvin smiled stupidly, as he did after every bad joke.

  As much as Naomi wanted to stay on task, it was nice to lighten up, even for a moment.

  Finished with her sandwich, Naomi placed the plate in the sink. She turned on the water. There was still pressure. She turned it off before wasting any more. “How long do you think we’ll have running water?”

  Calvin thought on it. “It depends on the water plant. I would say days. ”

  “Let’s start filling up some buckets then. Before it goes out.”

  “Good call.”

  “How long do you think the grid will be down?” Naomi asked bravely as they grabbed plastic buckets.

  Calvin breathed out. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “My brother would know,” Naomi mused.

  “Your brother is a hardcore dude.” Calvin put the bucket under the sink and started to fill it. “This probably doesn’t even faze him.”

  Naomi smirked. Allen always had a niche for the outdoors. The moment he retired from the Seals, he moved into the wilderness and had been completely self-sufficient since.