by Dana Mentink
“He didn’t want me to go alone.” Her voice trembled. “He went because I wanted it.”
“Listen to me,” he said, pulling her to him as his own anger slipped away. “There’s no blame. It’s one of those things that happens because the world is troubled and broken.”
“No blame?” A single tear slid down, shimmering on her cheek before it fell away into darkness. “Yes, there is, Trey. I can see it in your eyes.” She pulled loose and turned her back on him, wiping her sleeve across her face as she hurried away.
Feelings pinwheeled through him—regret, sorrow, guilt. “Sage...things happen, terrible things, and war is the worst of all of it,” he found himself saying.
She continued on, shutting out any comfort he offered. The phrases tumbled suddenly out of his mouth before he realized. “In this world you will have trouble,” he shouted after her. Trouble was an understatement. The memory came faster than he could shut it out. Trey behind the wheel of a getaway car while his gang brothers busted up a storefront and left their burning bandanna in front of the ruins. They hadn’t seen what Trey saw, the store owner hiding in the shadows across the street, head bowed and a little boy tucked behind him. The boy looked at Trey, large eyes filled with a question.
Why?
Trey discovered in that moment, he had no answer. He did not know his own face in the rearview mirror, nor his hands on the steering wheel. The world had sucked him in and morphed his soul into something unrecognizable even to himself.
The words of John 16:33 echoed wildly, the words he’d clung to since the day he’d discovered that the world had beaten him, the week he’d snuck back to the shopkeeper’s store and helped sweep up the glass and board up the windows before he’d headed to the recruiter’s office. It was a verse he still pored over when he felt as if his heart would break, lost in the darkness like he was at that very moment. “But take heart, I have overcome the world,” he finished softly.
Though he thought she hadn’t heard, she stopped and turned. “This girl lost,” she whispered. “And the world won.”
He had to look away from the defeat on her face. “I’ve been where you are. Please, Sage. Listen to me,” he whispered.
But she was already gone.
* * *
Sage could not stop her self-recrimination.
You were always tougher...
You knew better...
You forced yourself into an unsafe situation...
And Luis died, her mind supplied. She was not surprised at Trey’s condemnation because she’d thought it herself in the terrible moments when her thoughts returned to the past. Somehow, hearing him say it aloud drilled it deep into her soul, past the numb void and into the tender part that was still capable of feeling. Luis had gone to Afghanistan because of her. In his late fifties, he was no longer interested in capturing that sizzling headline that would make his career. His thoughts revolved around sweeter things; his grandchildren, church picnics and traveling the world after his retirement. One more job he’d do, for her. Because he knew how badly she wanted it. Because he was a friend of her father’s from back in the Vietnam days.
Because he was a good man.
She reached up to wipe her face and found there were no more tears there. She was once again sinking into that numb void where the feelings couldn’t reach her. Cold seeped through her bones.
Wally sniffed hard at a section of the tunnel a few feet in front of them. His tiny paws worked at the crumbling brick and he barked once, a high-pitched burst of noise that yanked her from her reverie.
She shone her light for a better look and Trey caught up and added his light.
“Sage...”
She could not stand the softness in his tone, the note of pity held there. It was better that they were antagonists, or two strangers working to find an escape. “Wally’s found something,” she said sharply. She heard him sigh and then he ran his hands along the brickwork.
“Used to be a door, I think, but it’s been sealed over.” He scratched the dog behind the ears. “Sorry, Wally. No way through there.”
Wally continued to whine and scrape at the spot, and Sage put her hand to the surface. She gasped. “Feel this,” she said, grabbing his hand and guiding it next to hers.
After another few seconds they both felt it, a vibration as something struck the wall from the other side. One tremor, another.
“Someone is banging on the wall,” Sage said. She immediately slapped her own hands against the brick until Trey handed her the flashlight.
“Try this.”
She struck at the brick with the metal handle and pressed her palm there to feel for a response. Seconds ticked into minutes and there was no answering clang.
“What happened?”
Trey shook his head. “Maybe they had to move, things became unstable.”
She stood back and examined the wall, which looked exasperatingly solid. “How can we break through it?”
Trey looked off down the tunnel. “We can’t.”
“We have to, there’s someone alive on the other side, Antonia or Fred.” She whacked on the wall again, hard enough to send a tiny chip of brick zinging through the air. A few moments later she was panting with nothing to show for it. She looked for Trey, annoyed that he hadn’t added his strength to her efforts.
“You went nuts on the bricks before to get Wally out,” she snapped. “You can’t help me get to Antonia?”
He gave her a scathing look. “It’s solid and you know it. We need another plan.”
She rolled her eyes. “We’ve already tried plan B.”
“Would you hush up a minute and look.” He pointed to the top of the wall where a missing brick had left a neat rectangular impression.
“I don’t see anything.”
He guided her to his side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Though she didn’t want to be anywhere close to him, her senses responded to his warmth, her own body molding to his. “There,” he said, wiggling the flashlight beam at the space which she now saw was stuffed with twigs.
“It’s a bird nest,” he said. “Recently used. This area must get some sun during daylight hours.”
“So this tunnel leads out?”
He released her and grabbed his pack. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Sage made a move to follow, but she felt the desire to return to the bricks. Even though she knew the person on the other end could not hear her, she put her fingers there and called out, “We’ll be back to get you. I promise.”
She found Trey looking at her and she felt her face flush. “I know they can’t hear, I was just...”
He smiled. “No need to explain to me. I’ve run up against plenty of brick walls in my day.”
She fell into step next to him and found herself asking the question. “How did you get through them?”
“Some I didn’t because I wasn’t meant to, but God helped me knock the others down. I’ve got plenty I’m still working on, believe me.”
She felt a swirl of discomfort. She’d decided in the months following Luis’s death that she did not want anything further to do with God. Before the incident, she’d been what she liked to term a “casual believer.” He was in charge of the universe, but not in charge of her life. Now, there was no way she would invite God in. Period.
Looking to avoid any further conversation, she sped up the pace, noting that the tunnel seemed to slope upward. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought the blackness was lightening to gray.
Trey hastened faster, calling to Wally who lingered behind. They made another sharp turn. High up near the ceiling was a half-moon through which shone a slice of dusky light. Sage ran forward and looked into the space. “It’s a storm drain or something. I can see up to the street.”
“Here,” h
e said, cupping his hands to give her a boost.
She stepped into his palms and he lifted her up until her chin was level with the stone edge. The alley was washed in long shadows from the setting sun. “It’s the side street to the Imperial. I think I can see part of the deli.” Her heart sank. “The road is covered with debris and there’s glass everywhere.”
“Do you see anyone?”
“No.” She pushed herself higher and shouted into the gap. “Hey, we’re trapped down here! Can somebody help?”
He continued to hoist her until she was able to put her feet on his shoulders. More of the ruins came into view and she heard the far-off wail of sirens. A set of trousered legs appeared and Sage shouted again.
The legs bent and Derick Long’s face peered into the space. “Sage?”
“Yes, it’s me and Trey Black.”
Derick’s eyes widened. “What a relief. I thought you’d been killed.” He called to someone else and suddenly there were two sets of hands pulling at the drain cover until it gave way along with a row of bricks. Arms reached in to haul Sage out.
“Take Wally,” Trey called.
Derick grunted in surprise as Trey lifted the little dog into Sage’s hands before he himself was helped out of the tunnel. Derick clasped her in a hug. “I’ve been going bananas up here.”
Sage blinked to adjust to the sensation of cool, misty air against her face. With Wally still cradled in her arms she did a slow scan of the surroundings. A chasm two feet across had opened up in the middle of the road, sucking down a portion of the sidewalk and several cars. The little salon across the street which was of newer construction stood seemingly undamaged, but the smaller brick buildings on either side were knocked cockeyed, their side walls separated from the main structure. Broken glass spangled the streets like fallen stars, glittering in the failing light. Two blocks farther up a police car and a fire truck were attempting to deal with the downed electrical wires that powered the trolley buses. She could hear the shouts of the emergency workers. It looked as though she had emerged into a war zone. Her head spun.
Derick led her to a section of undamaged sidewalk and forced her to sit, handing her a water bottle from which she drank before cupping her palm and letting Wally drink his fill. She caught Trey watching her and felt her cheeks pinking.
Trey briefed Derick and the other man who assisted in pulling them free, the owner of the deli across the street. They shouted to the officer working on the electric wires and he waved, face sweaty and expression grim, shouting back that he would be there as soon as he could. She stared out over the ruins and found her eyes damp. “It looks like a battleground,” she whispered.
Derick nodded. “Radio said most of the phone lines are jammed. Masonry started raining down so we took cover, but the front doors are blocked. We were trying to find another way in.”
Sage was about to ask Derick to explain the “we” when Rosalind hurried up along with the cop. Her blond bob was coated with the dirt that thickened the air and Sage was surprised to find that the woman was actually a few inches shorter than she remembered. That is until she realized Rosalind was wearing leather boots instead of the heels she’d had on the first time they’d met. She blew out a breath.
“The officer didn’t want to come,” she said with an annoyed glance at the cop. “But I told him you two needed medical attention.”
“I’m Sergeant Rubio.” He eyed Trey and Sage with a raised eyebrow. “Are you injured?”
“No, sir,” Trey said. “But there is a chance of one victim, possibly two, trapped inside.”
Rosalind started. “Who?”
“Fred Tipley was in there.”
Rosalind blew out a breath. “No, he left just after I arrived. I got here just before the big quake. Fred called and demanded that I come.” She raised an eyebrow at them. “He was pretty annoyed that you two insisted on staying inside to find Antonia, but he said he wasn’t about to risk his neck trying to save you. He was more interested in what happened to Wally, so I told him I’d keep an eye out for him and stay here until we made sure you were all okay, and he left.”
“Sage believes Antonia Verde was inside as well,” Trey finished.
“Antonia,” Derick cried. “What was she doing in there?” His eyes narrowed. “I thought you hadn’t seen her.”
Sage kept her voice light. “I wasn’t sure. I saw her go in, but she may have left, too, as soon as the first shock hit. Trey and I looked, but we couldn’t find her.”
Rosalind looked closely at Trey. “Fred was right. The place was extremely busy for an abandoned opera house. Why were you in there after hours, Mr. Black?”
“Call me Trey, ma’am.” He explained about Wally.
Rubio listened to a crackling message on his radio. “I can’t take any more time for this. You’re all safe and uninjured, so you’ve got to stay out of this area and let me do my job. I’ll get a search team in there as soon as there’s one free.”
Derick stiffened. “I’m not leaving here with my employee possibly trapped in there.”
“I’m sorry, but we’re doing the best we can for everyone right now. This Ms. Verde may or may not still be inside.”
“Someone is,” Trey countered. “We found blood. And...” he looked at Sage. “We thought there was someone else in there, someone who wanted us out.”
He shook his head. “Out is a good idea. We’ll send people in when we can. For now, you need to leave.”
His tone brooked no argument. He watched as they walked around the massive crack in the road to the other side of the street where the deli owner, a mustached man named Jerry, ushered them to a bench outside his shop.
“Not much damage to my store except the windows,” he said. “You can stay here. You’re hungry.”
He did not phrase it as a question before he disappeared inside to find them something to eat.
Rosalind crouched down and stroked Wally’s dusty fur. “Poor little guy,” she said, a catch in her voice.
Sage thought Wally looked much smaller out here, dwarfed by piles of rubble. “I’m surprised Fred would leave without him.”
“Me, too,” Rosalind said, “but I’ve never been able to figure Fred out. I’m a cat person, but maybe I’ll have to make an exception for you until we can get you back to your owner.” She pulled him into her lap where he lay for a few moments, enduring the petting before he hopped back down to the sidewalk, nose twitching at the smell of food.
Jerry returned with bowls of pierogi, little dumplings filled with cheese. Sage did not think she could eat anything, but the aroma carried along by the steaming delicacies made her mouth water. Trey, Sage, Derick and Rosalind devoured the food eagerly as Jerry looked on. Even Wally enjoyed lapping up several of the succulent treats. Jerry spooned up a bowl for two other shop owners who brought their own contributions—grape juice, sliced bread and a bag of tortilla chips. It was a strange combination, but no one complained.
Sage smiled at Jerry when he brought blankets and coffee. “How can we ever thank you enough?”
He waved her discomfort away. “I was here for the Loma Prieta Quake in ’89. When my store flooded, people helped me, took care of me until I could open up the deli again. Now it’s my turn to do the same for you.”
She was overwhelmed at the kindness of this man who had been a total stranger not long before.
Evening shadows crept along the street and the small group sat talking in the eerie pool of lantern light. Shirlene, a heavyset lady from the hair salon, sat patiently while another woman applied a new bandage to the wound on her head.
Rosalind held the sterile wrap while the lady cut the first aid tape to fasten it into place. “Are you going to evacuate? I heard the police saying they wanted everyone to go.”
Shirlene shook her head, making her double chins wobble. “
It’s all I have. There’s no way I’m leaving my shop unattended.”
She repeated the same thing to the cop when he returned just before midnight.
He looked too tired to argue, shifting his gaze to Sage and Trey. “We’ve got a partial building collapse, the old folks’ home six blocks from here. Every available body is working that right now.”
Sage felt her heart squeeze. Alone and trapped. She knew the feeling. She wondered in that moment if every person fights on their own personal battlefield. Brick walls, as Trey would say. She envied him the comfort God provided. She felt a flicker of desire to experience that sweetness for herself, but she shrugged away the thought and pulled the blanket Jerry had loaned her tighter around herself.
Rubio wiped his forehead and resettled the cap over his sweaty hair. “I’m going to level with you. It will be dawn by the time I can get people here, if then.”
“That might be too late,” Sage said.
“I’m sorry. Right now we can’t risk the lives of rescuers going in there after a possible victim when we have plenty of confirmed injured to deal with.”
“So you’re going to turn your back on them,” she said bitterly.
Trey took her arm to calm her which only made her more upset. She jerked away from him. “I’ll go in myself, then.”
The cop stood, feet planted. “No, you won’t,” he said. “We’ve taped it off and no one is going in there.”
“You don’t care,” she said, choking on the words.
“Listen,” he snapped. “I’ve got a dozen elderly people who can’t even stand, let alone get themselves out. I just came from a dance studio where six kids were learning how to tap dance when their roof caved in.” He paused and cleared his throat. “One of those kids didn’t make it. Did you ever have to tell a parent that kind of news?” He stared at her, eyes dull with grief. “Don’t tell me I don’t care.”
Sage’s anger died away and shame took its place. This man was not her enemy. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded wearily. “I’ll be back tomorrow as soon as I can spare a team. Keep out of that opera house. As a matter of fact, it would have been smarter to evacuate, but that’s going to be dangerous in the dark so you’d better stay here.”
