Aftershock

by Vanessa Acton

  “She’s probably just still sulking about Friday,” said Ray. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “But even Harper wouldn’t give us the silent treatment after an earthquake, would she?”

  “Maybe she just hasn’t checked her phone,” Liam suggested.

  But Sasha couldn’t help it. A sharp twinge of uneasiness ran through all the parts of her body that still had feeling in them. Either Harper wasn’t answering their messages because she truly was that ticked off, or she wasn’t answering because she couldn’t.

  The second possibility was more worrying, but the first one was upsetting too.

  Because yeah, Harper was clingy. She was dramatic. She could be, in some ways, immature. But it was Harper who had created a funny new meme to send to Sasha every morning that Sasha spent in the hospital. It was Harper who baked something amazing for every birthday. It was Harper who would listen to you talk for hours, or just sit in silence with you for the same amount of time. She was a caring, fun, generous friend. She was more of a giver than a taker. And that made it hard for Sasha to stop thinking about Harper’s face at lunch today. From one angle, sure, Harper was overreacting. But from another angle—she would bend over backwards for any one of them and they had let her down on Friday.

  Maybe they could all chip in to buy her a new keychain to replace the treasured one she’d lost. Maybe that was the symbolic making-amends gesture that Harper needed.

  Part of Sasha wanted to assume that Harper would get over this. But part of her knew that friendships got ruined for less-important reasons all the time. She didn’t want to lose Harper as a friend just because she and Liam and Ray couldn’t find a way to assure Harper that she mattered to them.

  On the other hand, it was hard to be too concerned about Harper’s feelings when Sasha was even more concerned about Harper’s safety.

  “News sites are saying the quake was a six-point-five on the Richter scale,” Ray reported, his eyes glued to his phone. “That’s intense.”

  “Well, yeah, it felt intense,” Liam pointed out.

  “I mean, that’s the most severe earthquake to hit this area in our lifetime.”

  Liam nodded thoughtfully. “Man, the aftershocks are gonna be huge.”

  7

  Sasha

  An ambulance and a fire truck finally pulled up in the school parking lot. Mrs. Hill helped guide a few people, including Ms. Midio, over to the paramedics. Then she returned to Sasha, Liam, and Ray. “Ready to get out of here, honey?”

  “Is it safe to go home?” asked Sasha.

  “I don’t know yet. We’re not supposed to go back until we hear from city authorities. So I figure I’ll drop you off at the community center, where they’ve got the emergency shelter set up, and then go get Jeremiah.”

  Sasha glanced worriedly at Liam and Ray. Ray’s parents both worked in Davis, an hour away. Liam’s mom was all the way in Sacramento, which was almost a two-hour drive. With road damage and post-disaster traffic, it could take them all day to get back to Edson. Sasha didn’t like the idea of ditching her friends in the school parking lot. “We’ll be fine,” Ray told her, clearly reading her mind. “We can always just walk to the community center.”

  “Yeah.” Liam nodded. “There should be food there, at least.”

  “Why don’t I just give you boys a ride there?” asked Mrs. Hill.

  Two minutes later, they were all inside the Hills’ car. Ray and Liam helped disassemble and store Sasha’s wheelchair after she transferred into the front passenger’s seat, so they were ready to go in record time.

  “Thanks for this, Mrs. Hill,” said Liam as Sasha’s mom steered around the fire truck to exit the parking lot.

  “No problem,” she replied.

  Except, as it turned out, it was kind of a problem.

  The streets were in bad shape. A power line lay across Holland Avenue, so Mrs. Hill had to detour to Carpenter Street. But the light was out at the intersection, forcing cars to move in a nervous start-stop-look-okay-now-go dance. Fallen trees blocked part of Altatierra Street. A water main had burst on Phoenix Drive. Sasha didn’t see a lot of damage to buildings, but everything else was a mess. Twice, Mrs. Hill had to pull over to let emergency vehicles race past her.

  After the fifth or sixth detour, Mrs. Hill said, “Guys, I don’t think it’s safe for me to be driving at this point. I’m not sure I can get us all the way to the community center. I’ll be lucky if I get as far as our house.”

  They did get as far as the Hills’ house, and it didn’t seem damaged: no broken windows, no obvious missing pieces. Sasha and the boys stayed in the car while Mrs. Hill checked it out. When she came back, she reported, “Nothing’s on fire. I didn’t smell gas. And the walls and ceiling seem stable—and if they’re not, I’ll sue that contractor. I think we’d better call it quits and stay here.”

  “That’s fine, Mrs. Hill,” said Ray quickly. “Liam and I can walk the rest of the way to the community center. You’ve gotten us a lot closer, at least.”

  “You’re welcome to hang out at our house until things settle down a little,” Mrs. Hill offered.

  “Thanks, but we wouldn’t want to be in the way,” Ray said. “I’m sure you’ll have a lot of cleanup to do.”

  “Can you stop by Harper’s house on your way to the community center?” Sasha asked the boys. “Just to make sure she’s all right? Since none of us have heard back from her.”

  Liam nodded. “Definitely.”

  Mrs. Hill was frowning, but she said, “All right. Just be careful. Can you send Sasha a message when you get to the community center so we know everything’s all right?”

  “For sure,” said Ray.

  “Couldn’t I go with them?” Sasha asked her mom. “At least as far as Harper’s? Just to—”

  “Absolutely not!” said Mrs. Hill. “The sidewalks will be a warzone.”

  Sasha knew this was completely reasonable. But she was also tempted to curl her hands into fists and punch her legs. It wasn’t as if she’d feel anything if she did.

  “I could use my mountain bike wheels . . . ” For her last birthday, her uncle had gotten her a pair of hardcore shock-absorbing tires. Compared to her usual tires, they were way sturdier and less likely to puncture. Sasha used them for most of her outdoor activities now.

  “Still no,” said her mother firmly. “There’ll be aftershocks. And I need your help getting the house back in shape.”

  Sasha bit the inside of her cheek. Her family was really good about not telling her to sit in a corner and rest. They encouraged her to be independent. And like her friends, they treated her like part of a team, not like someone who had to be helped and protected all the time. But still—I need your help getting the house back in shape? How was she supposed to take that seriously? As if sweeping the kitchen floor was on par with confirming someone’s safety.

  “Message me as soon as you get to Harper’s,” she told Liam and Ray. “I’ll feel a lot better once I know she’s okay.”

  “We all will,” said Liam grimly.

  8

  Liam

  Harper’s house was five blocks away from Sasha’s, but even in that short distance, the damage level seemed to spike. This part of the neighborhood might as well have been hit with a wrecking ball. Trees were down, power lines slanted dangerously. Liam saw a garage that had folded sideways like a collapsible cardboard box. Porch rails had buckled, pieces of roofs had collapsed, windows had blown out.

  The neighborhood was also weirdly quiet.

  Liam almost missed the unending fire alarm at school. Somewhere off in the distance he heard sirens, but he found himself wishing they were closer. It would be nice to know that help was nearby if they needed it.

  Liam wasn’t sure he wanted to see his own house—or Harper’s.

  He and Ray had been to Harper’s house hundreds of times. The first time was probably in kindergarten, when everyone in the class had been invited to Harper’s birthday party. That was Harper’s f
irst birthday without her mom. She’d hugged everyone who came, even the boys. And she made sure everybody else got a piece of cake before she started eating.

  Weird thing to think about now. Almost like the kind of story you’d tell at someone’s funeral.

  You idiot, he said sternly to himself. She’s fine. I’m sure she’s fine.

  When they got to the house, he let out a giant exhale. It was fine. At least it looked fine from the outside.

  Liam and Ray rushed up to the front door, and Ray rang the bell. Harper’s dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway. He was probably still at his office in Sacramento. But Harper should’ve been here.

  They waited five seconds before Ray pushed the doorbell again. They heard it echoing inside the house—but still no answer.

  “Harper?” called Liam. “Are you there?” Silence. “Are you okay? We just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You don’t have to talk to us otherwise. We’re just worried.”

  More silence.

  “Harper!” Ray shouted. He banged on the door with his fist. “Quit being stupid! We’re calling 9-1-1 if you don’t at least yell to us that you’re okay.”

  For a split second, Liam really did expect to hear her voice: Leave me alone! Just forget about me. You’re good at that.

  But that didn’t happen.

  Ray pounded more forcefully on the door. “Harper! ARE YOU OKAY?”

  “Ray.” Liam grabbed his friend’s arm before the door got dented. “I don’t think she’s here.”

  Ray turned toward him, looking as if he’d lost his balance, even though the earth was holding steady for the moment. “But she left school three hours ago. If she’s not here—where is she?”

  Liam could only shake his head. “I don’t know.”

  9

  Harper

  She couldn’t reach her phone. She couldn’t move, period. One arm was stuck above her head. The other was pinned to her side.

  But what good would her phone do her anyway? So many people would be making emergency calls that the cell towers would be swamped.

  She could try yelling for help.

  As if any emergency responders would come here first. As if anyone would think to check this place. Plus, she was pretty sure it was a bad idea to take super-deep breaths. All kinds of toxins could be leaking into the air, rising out of the debris.

  Lying here in the dark, Harper realized this was exactly what she’d been afraid of ever since her mom died.

  Being left alone and knowing nobody was coming for her.

  10

  Sasha

  Sasha’s mom was working hard to clear a path for her. Everything in their living room had either fallen over or shifted position, as if an angry ghost had decided to redecorate the house. “Power hasn’t gone out, so the fridge should be working fine,” her mom said over her shoulder. “But a lot of food spilled out onto the floor during the quake, so we might have to toss some of it. Everything in the closets has probably shifted too. I’ll probably need to clean up some spills.”

  “And where do I come in?” Sasha asked pointedly. “In terms of helping you?”

  “I’ll let you know once I’ve assessed the damage, honey.”

  Sasha bit her tongue as her mom left the room. She hated the phrase “assess the damage.” Mostly because, two years ago, people had used it to talk about her: the damage to her legs, the damage to her life, the reasons she wouldn’t be able to pick up a framed picture lying on the floor right in front of her. Assessing that damage was an ongoing process. And for the most part, it didn’t make Sasha angry anymore. But it was frustrating, at moments like this, that she couldn’t dive right in and help. She had to wait for a task that was within arm’s reach.

  Sasha felt her phone buzz.

  It was Liam, calling her through a video chat app. This was the app they all used to call Ray when he was visiting family in Mexico. Ray and Liam might as well be in Mexico right now. Sasha had rarely felt farther away from them.

  She accepted the call, and her phone screen filled with a blurry image of Liam’s face. Judging by the moving background, she figured he was walking as he made the call. And judging by his expression, he didn’t have good news to report.

  “Hey! How’s Harper?”

  “Missing in action,” said Liam. “Her house was fine, but nobody was there. She must’ve gone somewhere else after she left school.”

  Sasha fought to hold her phone steady. “And nobody knows where she is.”

  “Well, maybe her dad knows. We haven’t tried getting in touch with him.”

  “I’ll e-mail him right now,” said Sasha. “Are you two still heading to the community center?”

  “Yeah,” said Liam.

  “No,” said Ray, off camera, at the same time.

  Liam did a double take. “Uh—Ray? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m stopping by my apartment first,” Sasha heard Ray say matter-of-factly. “It’s on the way. I just want to see if it’s damaged.”

  “Hold on, Ray—” Sasha said.

  Liam talked over her. “That might be dangerous.”

  “I just want to know!” Ray snapped. “You don’t have to come with me, Liam. You can go straight to the community center and have a doughnut.”

  “One, that’s not fair,” said Liam, starting off into his usual list of points. “This isn’t about free doughnuts. You gave me a hard time earlier for going back into the school building and I wouldn’t be a real friend if I didn’t give you a hard time for your stupid decisions. Two, obviously I’m not letting you go there alone.”

  Sasha bit her lip. Usually she didn’t feel like this. Usually her friends didn’t let her feel like this. They always included her, let her contribute. But there was nothing she could do to help them right now.

  Nothing she could do to help Harper, if Harper was in trouble.

  She didn’t hate her legs very often anymore. She’d learned to accept them, to not need them most of the time. But today was an exception. In her head, she insulted her legs pretty brutally.

  “Be careful, you guys,” she said to Liam’s face on her phone screen.

  Liam sighed. “Yeah, I’ll work on that. And I’ll call you back the next chance I get.”

  ***

  Sasha had finished e-mailing Harper’s dad and had sent one more last-ditch text to Harper by the time her mom came back into the living room. “Okay,” said Mrs. Hill, exhaling. “Things are looking pretty good. No sewage line issues—the toilet’s flushing fine. I mopped up the worst of the spills. Nothing’s on fire.”

  “All reassuring,” said Sasha.

  “I’m going to run over to the elementary school and get Jeremiah. Be back in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay, be safe.” That was how they always ended conversations. At least it had been for the past two years. It had become their version of I love you.

  And it felt especially appropriate today.

  “Send me a message if anything comes up while I’m gone.” Sasha’s mom kissed her on the cheek as she headed past her. By the time Mrs. Hill had closed and locked the front door behind her, Sasha’s phone buzzed. A new e-mail had just landed in her inbox.

  It was from Harper’s dad: No, I haven’t heard anything from Harper today. Now I’m getting worried.

  11

  Harper

  She wished she hadn’t gotten so angry at her friends. It seemed so petty now. She wished she could tell them she forgave them—and ask them to forgive her for being such a child about the whole thing. She wished she could thank them for all the times they had been there for her, for all the ways they’d made her life awesome.

  Her dad would blame himself for this, probably. She wished she could tell him not to.

  Are you serious? What is WRONG with you?

  She wasn’t going to die here—not without at least making an effort to survive. She needed to snap out of it.

  And find a way to let someone know she was here.

  12


  Ray

  “This is such a bad idea,” said Liam for at least the fifth time as he and Ray climbed the stairs in Ray’s apartment building. Ray knew he was bending the terms of their bargain. First it was I just want to see the building and check that it’s still standing. Now it was I just want to see inside the apartment.

  He knew Liam was right. From the outside, the building had looked fine. But with five stories, almost anything could go wrong at any minute.

  Still, Ray couldn’t turn back without seeing inside his apartment. Like he’d told Sasha and Liam: he had to know. He needed to feel as if he was in control of something.

  Because if Harper wasn’t at home, where was she? And if she was hurt—or worse—how was he going to live with that? How could he ever forgive himself for saying that Harper’s life wasn’t their responsibility?

  He couldn’t do anything about that right now. What he could do was check out his apartment.

  Ray and Liam reached the fifth floor and wheezed their way out of the stairwell. It wasn’t safe to try the elevator right after an earthquake. Even if the building’s power was working, the elevator could be damaged in other ways. And an elevator wasn’t exactly a prime place to be during an aftershock—which could hit at any moment.

  Ray ran down the hallway to his door. He fumbled for the key ring in his pocket and let himself in.

  The apartment looked as if someone had trashed it. Like those spy movies where the main character comes home and realizes his cover is blown because the bad guys have torn apart his whole pad. The freestanding mini-bookcase had fallen over. The doors of the game cabinet stood open, its contents spilled onto the floor. The walls—normally covered in framed photos—were almost bare. The photos had dropped down to join the rest of the clutter on the floor. Ray halfheartedly scanned the floor for his parents’ wedding picture, the one he often looked at to remind himself they’d been happy together once.

  He picked his way through the mess to the kitchen. The fridge and freezer doors were open, spewing cold air. Cans and bottles had flown off the pantry shelves and smashed on the tile floor. Ray knelt down and started picking them up. He didn’t know what else to do.