by J. R. Tate
Reaching the clinic area, she knew of two elevator banks nearby. Reaching them, her heart skipped a beat when she spotted the doors to one of them wide open. Peeking inside, she looked down and saw someone on the top of the elevator, which was hanging between the first floor and the basement levels.
“Manny?” Her voice echoed in the shaft. The smell of oil and metal was strong.
“Alice! We’re stuck! What happened?”
“I don’t know, Manny. But we need to get you out of there. Who is with you?”
He looked down inside the elevator and back up, closing his eyes. “Bart. But…” he trailed off, bracing himself. “I don’t think he made it, Alice. I think Bart is dead.”
The lights flickered again, reminding Alice of the generator situation. It was happening too close together now. “We need gas for the generators, Manny. I think they’re running on fumes. I’m going to get you some help! I’m going to make sure Bart is okay.”
“Get the gas first, Alice. Running the generators on empty will fry them up.”
Alice didn’t want to leave the men behind but if she stayed there, she’d waste more time. Making eye contact with Manny, she nodded her head and forced a smile. “I’ll come back, Manny. I won’t leave you behind.”
“I know, Alice. Go get the gas!”
She ran to the closest exit, trying to get a vantage point of what stores and resources would be available on that side of the hospital. There were two convenience stores right across the street and though nothing was working, she had to hold out hope that she could get her hands on enough gas to refill the generators.
Both stores were crowded with people, some running out with food, others demanding items from the clerk who stood behind the counter, wide-eyed and unable to control the crowd. A panicked atmosphere hovered around Alice, much like the looting and pillaging she had seen on the news after riots and massive storms that had come through. How was that possible? The power outage had only happened a few hours ago. Why were people already resorting to this type of behavior?
“Are the gas pumps working?” Alice approached the counter, knowing it was a stupid question, but one she had to ask anyway.
The clerk shook his head. “No. Nothing is.”
“Damn it!” Alice wiped her brow with the back of her hand and looked around. “I work over at the hospital. We need gasoline for the generators so we can help everyone.”
“Look, lady, he said they aren’t working!” A woman near the coolers of drinks yelled at her, waving her finger in front of her face.
The large tanks under the ground were probably still full of the needed resource. But how in the hell would she go about getting down there to get some? With the chaos that ensued, there would be no way to go about it, at least, not right now. Running to the store next door, it was almost the same scenario, only the clerk seemed more in control.
“What are the chances that we can get some gas?” Alice asked, glancing toward the hospital. It was still daytime and hard to tell if the generators had completely died.
“Slim to none.”
Vacant cars sat everywhere and an idea hit Alice blindside. Walking down each aisle of the store, she grabbed a red gas can and a short garden hose. Even though others were taking things and running, her conscience wouldn’t let her take the items without paying. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a twenty dollar bill and slapped it on the counter.
“Ma’am, what are you planning to do with that?” The man pointed at her items.
“I’m going to siphon gas out of these cars. I don’t think anyone is going to be using them anytime soon.”
Walking outside, she ran across to the hospital again - there were plenty of cars in the parking lot to choose from. It was going to taste terrible but gasoline meant the generators would run and they would be able to continue to treat victims.
Unscrewing the gas cap of a pickup, she stuck the hose inside. It was too long to work with so she pulled the pair of clothing scissors from her pants and cut the hose down to half its length. Sucking on the other end, gas flowed up into her mouth, burning her lips and tongue. The flavor made her want to puke and she gagged, but the suction helped the gas flow and she quickly put her end inside the gas can. The trickling sound was music to her ears and the two gallon can filled quickly.
Alice wasn’t sure how much gasoline a generator would hold, so multiple trips out into the parking lot was probably not out of the question. Once it was full, she pulled the hose out of the tank to get the gas to stop flowing. Whoever owned the pickup at recently filled the tank and she didn’t want the rest of it to be wasted on the ground.
Putting the lid on the gas can, she ran toward the ER. It was the first generator that should be filled before anything else since most of the victims were in that area. It would also give her a chance to notify someone about Manny and his worker being caught in the elevator shaft. They had waited too long for help to arrive and she felt guilty for leaving them behind. The people at the hospital needed their help. It was a miracle no one had noticed they were missing sooner.
***
Sophie felt like with each step she took, the police station was moving away from them. She was never much of an athlete and running was something she used to always joke about and say if she was doing it, something was probably chasing her. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined a situation like this - car wrecks, plane crashes, and unexplained turmoil, would really be happening. She had read too many books and watched too many movies where the plot was almost carbon copy of the real life playing out before her very eyes.
Danny seemed to have better endurance than her and was now several steps ahead of her, continuously checking over his shoulder to make sure she was still behind him. They reached the police station and Sophie had to stop to catch her breath, bending at the waist to stave off the stomach cramps and nausea.
Going through the entrance, a sense of dread settled in the pit of Sophie’s stomach. She had never visited the campus police station but there was a front desk reception area where she assumed someone usually sat to greet people who came in. No one was there and she was shocked when Danny went back to the large area where several offices were.
“Where is everyone?” Danny asked, opening each door, revealing an empty room each time.
“Maybe they’re all out trying to help.” Sophie tried to remain positive. Didn’t one cop usually stay behind to protect the station?
“I don’t know,” Danny shrugged, slamming his fist into the wall when they reached the very last room at the end of the hallway. “What the hell is going on, Sophie? What is happening?” He raised his voice and it shook. She had never seen her friend upset and his extreme reaction made panic take over her worry.
“What do we do, Danny?” She lifted a phone off of the cradle. Maybe it was only cell phones that had been knocked out. There was no dial tone and she hung up, attempting it again. The phone didn’t respond. “Land lines are out too.”
The building shook, mimicking what Sophie imagined an earthquake would feel like. It was disorienting and she fell to the floor, the vertigo strong enough that she couldn’t keep balance to get back up. Danny crawled to her, pulling her in for a hug. His embrace was comforting and for a second, she imagined that they were on a date and not stuck in the middle of some disastrous situation.
The building finally stopped shaking and when she opened her eyes, she hoped she’d be in her bed back at her dorm instead of on the floor at the police station. But she was there and whatever was happening wasn’t going away. Standing, she took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Panicking would only cause them to make bad decisions, and one bad decision right now could possibly mean their lives.
“We need to get out of here, Sophie.”
“Where are we gonna go?”
Danny’s eyes widened and it took him a second to answer. “Off campus. We need to get the hell out of Boston.”
Fleeing might be a good idea. S
ophie wasn’t sure how widespread this was happening. Was Boston under attack? Getting out of there was fine by her but how they were going to do it was beyond her. She wanted to get back to Dallas. She wanted to make sure her family was okay. Staying right where they were wasn’t getting anything accomplished. Cars were not working, planes had crashed out of the sky, and from what she could tell, anything electronic had failed to remain functioning. Maybe outside of campus, things were okay. They wouldn’t know unless they tried. It’d make her feel better if she could get to a working phone and make contact with her parents. If she could hear their voices and know they were okay, her panic would subside a bit.
“Okay, Danny. Let’s go. I’m not sure how we’re gonna do it, but let’s get the hell outta here.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jake cut back Colin’s pants with a pair of scissors he was able to find in some luggage. Becky found a first aid kit that had basic supplies in it - ace bandages, gauze, medical tape, and band-aids and Jake was thankful for that. His medical ability didn’t go past patching up wounds and he could thank his kids for knowing how to do that much. Alice was the one who always handled the more gory things and sitting there now, among the plane crash victims, he wished he would’ve paid more attention to what she had tried to teach him over the years.
Colin’s wound was still bleeding but Jake felt confident that pulling him from the plane wasn’t going to put him in the grave. He applied a layer of gauze to it and wove the tape around Colin’s leg, tight enough to put pressure on the wound to help stop the bleeding. His co-pilot cringed when Jake would move the leg around, which was all the convincing they needed to assume the leg was definitely broken.
“How you feeling?” Jake asked, patting Colin on the arm.
“Thirsty. Tired. Hungry. I’m in pain, Jake.”
Jake laughed. “Anything negative, we’ll just say all of the above.” He wished he could do something for Colin’s pain. Apparently, the ibuprofen and Tylenol they had in the first aid kit wasn’t even making a difference.
Colin nodded and closed his eyes. “Thanks for getting me out of there, Jake. I really thought…” He trailed off and opened his eyes, squinting from the sun beams that poured through the openings in the trees overhead. “I really thought I was going to die up there.”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen,” Jake replied, standing up. “I’m gonna go find some water and maybe something to eat.”
Becky followed him toward the rear of the plane. The storage area for the snacks and drinks was toward the back of the cabin and Jake hoped to find something useful in that general area. As he walked past, he took note of the survivors they had pulled from the plane, all of them spread out on the ground next to the wreckage. He was thankful for those who remained but it had been a full flight and only a handful would be left alive to tell about it. The statistics were against them - a 737 jet airliner held a maximum capacity of around one hundred and forty passengers and Jake counted ten survivors. Ten out of one hundred and forty - he felt ill over the numbers.
“There aren’t any more survivors up in the cabin?” Jake pointed upward, looking at the tail end that was high in the air.
Becky shook her head. “If there are, they were unable to respond. Probably not in the best shape to move.”
Jake began combing through the bushes and greenery on the ground, hoping snacks had fallen out onto the ground. “I can’t believe that only ten of us made it out alive. How’s that… How come we made it? I can’t accept that.” He tried to hide his emotion but his shaking voice revealed them.
“We’re the lucky ones, I guess.”
“I don’t know if lucky is the correct word,” Jake said, turning his attention to the cargo door. “Keep searching out here. I’m gonna start going through suitcases. Over one hundred passengers - we’re bound to find something useful in all this luggage.”
Some suitcases had already been tossed from the plane. Jake started with those, feeling like he was violating the person who it belonged to. Clothes were obviously not hard to come by and would come in handy if the rescue crews continued to take their time in getting to them. He could use a shirt as a tourniquet if Colin’s wound wouldn’t stop bleeding but they weren’t quite to that level of first aid yet.
The first suitcase came up short - if they needed clothing or souvenirs they’d be set but there was no food or something to drink within it. Moving to the next, he pulled open a hot pink carry-on and almost yelled out for joy when the first thing he grabbed was a half gallon bottle of water. Hurrying to the children first, he allowed the three of them to drink as much as they wanted, each one slurping down several gulps before they were satisfied. Half of the bottle was gone by the time he got to Colin, extending it toward him.
“Did you drink any?” Colin asked, refusing it at first.
“Not yet. You first.”
“You need it worse than me. You’re running around here, trying to scrounge up things to help and I’m just sitting on my ass. Take a swing or two.”
“I don’t have a gaping wound that won’t stop bleeding,” Jake replied, both men’s stubborn stance amusing and frustrating at the same time.
“You should find a mirror, Jake. You’re not in tip top shape yourself.”
Jake knew that - he could feel his body’s warnings to stop and take a break. But he couldn’t allow that. His plane had crashed and over one hundred people were dead because of it. The least he could do now was help the people who had somehow managed to survive it.
“Until the rescue crews get here, I’m going to keep going. Drink the damn water. I’ll try to find more.” Before Colin could refuse it, Jake hurried back to Becky. “Any luck?”
She held up three bags of peanuts. They were small but they were something and a small glimmer of hope in the midst of the wreckage and death that circled around them. The important thing was water and fluids - a body could go much longer without food than it could go without water. Jake focused on the suitcases again and Becky continued to search for the in-flight snacks that the airline had offered.
Eventually, Jake planned to organize and sort the items out of the luggage by type. Clothing in one pile, food, and water in another. But right now, the biggest priority was water. Every one of them was likely dehydrated from sitting in limbo on the crashed plane. In their poor health, dehydration could prove fatal for some of them.
Jake scanned over the survivors again. They sat in groups, none of them saying much. One child laid on an adult’s lap, eyes closed, tears streaming down their cheeks, leaving trails in the dirt on their face. His heart ached at the sight in front of him. Most of all, his frustrations were heightening - why in the hell was this taking so long? It wasn’t like they had crashed in the ocean or on some deserted island. They were in America. There was sophisticated flight data that broadcasted their exact location every second of the flight.
Being stranded for this long was unacceptable, and Jake wondered if something else could possibly be happening. He didn’t have time to think about conspiracies or possibilities. The plane had crashed. And now they would wait. In the meantime, he had to find water and food. He’d sort out the what ifs and could be’s later.
***
Alice sprinted across the parking lot, hoisting the gas can in one hand, weaving through people who were lined up outside the hospital. The crowd seemed to have dissipated some, which made her wonder what was going on. Maybe they had given up hope that they would receive help due to the long wait and left. It’d be a relief to the medical staff if that were true but she hoped they weren’t in desperate need of care and left without any help.
She had to stop and think about where the generators were kept. They were likely down in the basement near the control room. She was thankful she had worked at the hospital for as long as she had and knew where everything was - she had walked past the control room when it was open but she didn’t have any experience with gas or generators and feared she might mess something up.
When she got into the building, her heart skipped a beat. The lights were out and everyone was sitting in dark rooms. Her staff stopped what they were doing and watched her but she didn’t have time to stop and talk. Hopefully, with the gas can in hand, they’d get the hint that she was working to restore the backup power and get things rolling again. Even though none of their machines or equipment were running and they were having to do basic first aid, it was still imperative to get the generators going again in case their systems kicked back on.
Going down the same stairs as before, she felt the gas slosh inside the canister and slowed her pace - gas was now like precious gold and she couldn’t afford to spill any of it. There were tons of vehicles out there to siphon from but there was no set time frame on how long the power outage would last and she didn’t want to be wasteful with the important resource.
The control room was almost too dark to see in. Patting her leg, she let out a groan when she didn’t feel her flashlight in one of her pockets. She wondered if it would even work - it was like anything with batteries had been zapped along with all other electronic devices.
Leaving the door open, she felt her way around. Her habit had her reach for the light switch and she couldn’t help but laugh at herself. Everyone was so predisposed to turn lights on in a dark room that even now, in the middle of the worst outage Alice had ever seen, she still tried to turn the lights on.
Being in the basement meant that there wasn’t any natural light coming in from windows. There were small ones up high right underneath ground level that lent just enough that she could spot the generator in the far corner. It was large, almost half of the room, and her stomach was in knots as she approached it. The natural light from the small, rectangular windows on the side of the wall was very helpful, and she found where she needed to pour the gas. It was only a few gallons and this was a massive system, which posed the most important question of all - would this be enough? She had to try, and if it wasn’t, she’d run back out to the parking lot and get more.
