The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5)

by Deborah D. Moore

  “Well, Holly, if I had known you were here I would have come sooner,” the vet chuckled, kneeling down to pet the dog and accept the offered dog-kisses. Young Michael joined his grandfather in the petting and hugs.

  Christine smiled at the reunion.

  “We’ve got a few more additions, too. Right after you left, these nice folks came looking for shelter from the rain,” Jake told her. “Our little community here is quickly growing.” Christine looked in the direction Jake pointed and was surprised to see a dozen people huddled in the gloom.

  “Where’s Katie?” Henry finally asked. The young men stepped aside to expose the sleeping girl on the floor. Henry’s face fell as he took in her paleness and the more obvious injuries. “How long has she been out?” he asked in concern, lifting one of her eyelids.

  “She comes and goes, Doc. I know she needs medical care, but I don’t know where to take her, or if there is anything left.” Joey explained how they found her, then asked, “Is there anything you can do?”

  The old man looked at the concern etched on Joey’s face. He was well acquainted with the lives of these young people. Orphaned by the violent death of their mother when Katie turned eighteen, Joey reluctantly stayed in school at his sister’s insistence, and she went to work to keep them together. Holly had only been a pup then, and the old doc treated her for free.

  “I don’t know, Joey,” he said honestly. He pulled a stethoscope from his bag and listened to her breathe. Then he gently ran his gnarled old hands down her ribcage. “I think she has a couple of cracked or broken ribs and likely a concussion. I doubt it’s life threatening, though she really should see a doctor.”

  Christine looked out the glass wall at the rapidly fading light. “Will she be okay until the morning? She might be worse off if we try to get out of here right now without being able to see where we’re going.”

  “I agree with Christine. Let’s wait until daylight.”

  “Anna, we need more light, blankets, and food. Can you guide us around here?” Jake asked the young housekeeper. She grabbed the now empty cart and headed back into the bowels of the hotel, Jake leading the way with the flashlight and Sadie and Christine following.

  ***

  “I think more light should be our priority,” Sadie said, taking charge. “Next would be water and food.”

  “There are supposed to be flashlights in every room,” Anna said. “We always keep extras because people tend to take them.” She guided them back to the housekeeping complex. After loading up with a flashlight and extra batteries for each person, Anna led them to the kitchens.

  “Wow,” Jake said. “Look at the mess this place is in!” Cans had been knocked off shelves and burst; pots were on the floor, the contents spilled everywhere; long metal work tables were tipped over.

  “At least someone was smart enough to turn off all the burners!” Sadie exclaimed, sniffing the air for leaking gas.

  With the cart now loaded down with more blankets, a couple of cases of water, snacks meant for restocking the vending machines, and an assortment of bread, cheese, and lunchmeats from the now silent cooler, the foursome made their way back to the lobby. Their trek had taken a half hour and during that short of time, the lobby had plunged into darkness. The outside was aglow with the distant brilliance of a city on fire.

  Flashlights were passed out to everyone, especially a nervous twelve year old Michael. With blankets and pillows to sit on, the ragtag group settled in a circle for a much appreciated dinner of sandwiches.

  “For some reason, this tastes extra good,” Christine commented, “and I don’t really care for salami!” She took a healthy bite and closed her eyes in contentment.

  “Stress ramps up the metabolism and makes you extra hungry,” Henry explained.

  “What are we going to do now?” Joey asked, turning to his sister so she could read his lips. She signed back to him: We wait until morning. I’m deaf; in the dark I’m also blind, just like the rest of you, Joey translated.

  “She’s right,” Jake said. “We risk getting hurt not seeing the obstacles in our path.”

  Christine’s digital watch read 5:15 in the fading daylight, just as the next big quake hit them. Several of the new women screamed when the plate glass window cracked down the middle and splintered without shattering, effectively distorting the view to outside. Everyone standing quickly sat or stooped to the floor to prevent themselves from falling. Holly whined and snuggled closer to Katie. Everyone looked on in horror as the building across the road crumbled into a pile of bricks, glass, and dust.

  When the shaking stopped, Doc Palazzola was the first to stand. “Well, I guess we’re not quite done with tremors. Everyone okay? We’re lucky this window didn’t shatter. I say we line up a couple of flashlights in the window just in case help drives by,” he suggested.

  “What if it’s not help, but a gang that comes by?” Christine voiced nervously.

  “We can barricade the door if that makes you feel better, white girl,” Joey snickered. Jake slapped him hard on the shoulder.

  “Knock it off!”

  “Hey, I was only teasing her. Christine is okay.”

  With flashlights propped up in the big window sending out beams of hope for rescue, the odd group settled down for the night. Christine took her pillow and blanket to lean against the check-in desk.

  “You afraid of us, white girl?” Joey asked in the stillness of the dark. His voice was laced with humor and he sat down next to her.

  She let out a soft chuckle. “No, Joey, I’m not afraid. I’m a light sleeper and I don’t want to disturb anyone. Besides, someone should stay awake, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” he admitted. “Tell me about yourself, Christine. What were you doing here in the bad part of town?”

  “I was here for a training session, didn’t I mention that? I’m a dental hygienist, and I’m stuck filling out insurance forms right now in Greenwood.” She sighed. “I really want to go home.”

  ***

  The following morning, Christine was startled awake by flashing blue and red strobe lights bathing the lobby. She jumped to her feet, grabbing her flashlight. Flicking it on, she moved the beam back and forth to signal.

  “Hey, wake up! We’re being rescued!” she yelled to her companions.

  They quickly removed the barricade from the doors and were about to welcome in the ambulance crew when some gunshots rang out in the distance. They all took cover and the big vehicle jumped the curb and stopped close to the doors. One of the medics ran inside, leaving the other at the wheel.

  “Is there anyone injured?” the medic asked.

  “Yes, my sister was buried in bricks,” Joey was quick to respond.

  “I believe she has a concussion and several fractured ribs,” Henry added. “She’s deaf and really needs a medical assessment.” The medic eyed him in question. “I’m a veterinarian. Most of my patients can’t talk either.”

  They helped Katie to the ambulance.

  “The hospital has withstood the quake and is being used as a central gathering place so I think you all should get there somehow,” The medic said. He looked around at the group. “We don’t have enough room to take everyone with us.”

  “I’ll follow you in my car and bring who I can,” Christine said, glancing out the broken window at the rising sun.

  “Holly is her service dog, and should stay with her,” Henry told the driver. “As should her brother so he can interpret.”

  “I noticed some keys hanging behind the front desk,” Jake said. “Okay, so I was being nosey. I think there’s a shuttle van somewhere that the hotel uses. I can drive the rest of the people in that.” Jake and one of the older men went in search of the vehicle.

  Henry, Joey, Holly, and Katie were loaded into the waiting ambulance, while Michael and Anna wedged themselves in the back seat of Christine’s car. Sadie sat in front, with Christine driving close behind the flashing lights, the second hotel shuttle following as
they dodged additional gunfire.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The ambulance wove through the dark predawn streets, slowing then speeding up as it dodged fallen buildings and burning cars.

  “I’m sure glad that driver knows where he’s going,” Christine mumbled to break the silence and the tension in the car. They all stared in disbelief as they watched a bulldozer push cars off the street, sending up more plumes of dust into the emerging morning.

  “Sometimes I think those drivers have sonar in their heads,” Sadie laughed. “Look!” She pointed to the bright lights coming into view: a large hospital lit up with generators and car headlights. There must have been a hundred people milling about the hospital entrance.

  The ambulance driver pulled under the emergency room portico into frantic activity. People were rushing in every direction, though no one was coming to help unload their injured. Christine swerved around a few cars and parked on the grass next to the busy parking lot with Jake following her lead. People emerged from the shuttle van and rushed to the hospital doors.

  “I’m going to give Henry a hand,” Sadie said, heading for the ambulance with Anna right behind her, tightly holding onto Michael’s hand.

  Christine hung back. Crowds had always made her nervous, and she shivered at the sight of all the people, most of them hurt and bleeding. She inched closer to the large dirt smudged glass doors, took a deep breath, and pushed it open into… chaos.

  ***

  “Triage is in the next room,” a bedraggled nurse said to Christine, pointing to her left.

  “I’m not injured. I’m just looking for some people I came with,” Christine answered.

  The nurse looked her over. “You haven’t looked in a mirror, have you? Your hair is matted with blood from a laceration at your hairline, and there’s deep bruising on your forehead. Go to triage! If it’s not too bad, they will treat it quickly and send you on.” The nurse hurried off.

  Christine slipped into a crowded bathroom to look at herself. She was stunned at the image staring back from the mirror. A large bruise had formed above her left eye, just below a crusty line of dried blood. “I guess that’s answers the headache question,” she said aloud, touching the tender skin. She grabbed a handful of paper towels, folded them into a compress, wet it, and pressed it to the center of the clotting blood. While she held the tissues in place she looked more carefully at herself. Her hair was in disarray, her face was dirty with concrete dust and god only knew what else, and her clothes were filthy and torn. She was a mess. The stress caught up with her all at once and the tears slid down her cheeks, leaving tracks in the dirt.

  With an uncontrolled sob, she dropped the paper towels and turned the water back on to wash her face, letting it run to get cold.

  “The water is limited! Don’t leave it running!” the same nurse said, entering the bathroom. She reached around Christine and turned off the water.

  “Oh, I didn’t know,” Christine apologized. She plugged the sink with her used towels and ran enough water to splash her face, attempting to get it clean.

  “Come with me. That cut doesn’t look so bad now, I can probably bandage it myself and get you out of here,” the nurse said softly, taking Christine by the elbow and leading her into the triage area.

  Christine sat on a stool next to the wall while the nurse finished cleaning the small, deep wound. A doctor came by, checked it quickly, and put two stitches in before Christine could protest, and he was gone.

  “We’ve all been going nonstop for almost twenty-four hours, so don’t pay any attention to his lack of bedside manner.” She applied some ointment and a bandage, judging Christine fit to leave.

  ***

  She wove her way through the crowded room looking for the ambulance driver, hoping he could direct her to the expressway. There were so many people and most of them looked dazed, just the way Christine felt.

  “Christine!” Sadie called out from a curtained exam room.

  “Hey, how is Katie doing?”

  “The ER doc confirmed two broken ribs, a concussion, and a hairline crack in her skull. She was admitted and should be fine,” the older woman said, eying Christine. “I see you got that cut taken care of, good.”

  “I didn’t even know I had it,” Christine said. “I really want to go home, Sadie. Do you know where the ambulance guys are? I was hoping they could tell me how to get to the I-70 expressway.”

  “I could tell you, although I don’t know what might be blocked. I think it would stand to reason, though, that the further away you get from the center of the earthquake, the less damage there will be.”

  “Does anyone know where the epicenter was?”

  “Oh yes. It was the New Madrid. The entire fault line appears to have ruptured!” Sadie answered, glancing up at the big screen TV monitor on the other side of the room. Christine followed her eyes, totally mesmerized by the devastation she was seeing. “Oh, here’s one of those nice young men.” Sadie turned away, “Sam! Can you help this young lady get back to the I-70?”

  ***

  Once on the expressway, Christine breathed a sigh of relief. The traffic was heavy, but it was moving, and Sadie was right, the further away she got from the city, the less damage there was and the traffic eventually thinned.

  After twelve hours of driving, the gas gage started blinking and Christine pulled off I-70 at the 31 exit when she saw the familiar sign for the “T’N’M” 24-hour convenience store and gas station.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Trevor Monroe closed the cash register as his latest customer left with an armload of groceries. It had been a very good day for sales and his shelves were sparse. He turned back to the overhead TV and turned up the sound. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the scenes of destruction being repeated over and over. The epicenters of the massive earthquakes were hundreds of miles away, but he had felt the vibration of each big one. Glad he was nowhere near there, he sighed when a battered PT Cruiser pulled up to the gas pumps. He was ready to call it a night and had almost shut the pumps off.

  Orphaned at the age of fifteen, he’d spent the next several years living with an alcoholic aunt. The day after high school graduation, Trevor struck out on his own. He’d turned thirty-five two months earlier and had celebrated by buying his third convenience store. T’N’M stood for Trevor Nicolas Monroe, though most thought it was T and M. He didn’t care; the misconstrued name allowed him the anonymity to work at each of the stores on a rotating basis, not only to keep an eye on the employees but to also feel out the customers. He really wanted to succeed and knew customer satisfaction was the way to do that.

  The young lady that entered the store looked disheveled and confused and Trevor recognized her as being a semi-regular customer. She looked around and grabbed one of the carts that were lined up by the doors, wheeling it up and down the short aisles, dropping things into the basket.

  ***

  Christine carefully selected some groceries. She had been driving all day, stopping once for gas at a station that would take only cash and had limited her purchase to only five gallons. She was hungry and exhausted. A loaf of bread, some lunchmeat, a few cans of soup, a case of water, two bottles of red wine, and a frozen pizza nearly filled the cart. She headed to the register.

  “Hi,” Trevor said, scanning Christine’s face. Yes, this was the pretty girl he’d seen before. “Are you okay?”

  Christine’s attention was on the TV.

  “Miss?”

  She looked at Trevor and smiled, then a single tear escaped down her cheek. She looked back up at the screen.

  “I was there.”

  “Where?” he followed her eyes to the TV. “At the earthquake?” That’s when he noticed the bruise and bandage on her forehead. “You were hurt. What happened?”

  “Doesn’t matter now.” She handed him her dad’s credit card.

  Trevor looked at the card, knowing it wouldn’t go through. All the debit/credit lines were down, though he made a show of running it anyw
ay. “The circuits must be overloaded, but I can run your card manually,” he lied, and pulled out an old imprint machine. He slipped the plastic card and a self-carbon receipt into the machine. “Umm, I know you’re not “John” so I will need to see some I.D.,” he said smoothly, wanting to know her name.

  Christine fumbled through her wallet and produced her driver’s license. While Trevor copied down her information, she saw Sadie and Dr. Palazzola on the TV. “Can you turn up the volume please?” she asked.

  The newscaster’s voice over came up. “…elderly couple and their grandson escaped from their home moments before it collapsed during the second big quake. Fortunately none of them were injured. Here at the St. Mary’s hospital others were not so lucky. A young deaf girl suffered a severe head injury when a building came down on top of her while she was out walking with her dog. Acts of kindness and bravery were the rule of the day. Another young woman is credited for saving the girl’s life when she risked her own removing the bricks that buried the girl. That Good Samaritan left the hospital after having her own head injury treated, not waiting for any recognition. That also seems to be the rule of the day. Back to you in the studio.”

  “I’m glad that Katie will be alright now,” Christine muttered, still in a daze.

  “That was you, wasn’t it?” Trevor asked in admiration and awe. Christine looked at him, not answering the question. “Umm, here’s your card back. I’m sure your husband will be glad to have you home, Christine,” he said, glancing at her I.D. again.