The house was now nothing more than a ruin, it's roof torn away, it's wooden walls now broken and smashed.
    Lori could see no sign of her father.  Her body shook uncontrollably, tears ran down her cheeks.  She silently prayed for her father's life as she approached the shattered pile of wood.
    "Where is he?  Please God, let him be alive," she whispered to herself.
    He was never much of a father, he may have been there when she needed somebody, but he was usually too drunk to be of any help or comfort, but he was her father, and all she had - and right now, she wasn't even sure of that.
    Lori glanced at the tangled mass of wood that stood before her, for a brief moment she studied it with her eyes and then began to search, starting with the larger parts that were still standing then, she thought, she would move onto the smaller parts and eventually the piles of broken planks.
    It was black and dusty, the old man lying in the darkness looked around him, but could see nothing but shadows.  There was a tremendous weight upon him, he was unable to move, could barely breathe.
    "What happened?  Where am I?  Who am I?" he asked himself, but no answers came to him.
    A quiet scurrying sound nearby suddenly caught his attention.  He listened for it intently again.  There it was.  He turned his head slowly to the left to catch sight of what was making the sound, there, two small yellow eyes peered at him through the darkness.  What is it?
    The scurrying sound started again, this time it was closer and, as it grew louder, the eyes grew larger.  This time he could make out a small black shape.  A rat.
    Using all the strength he could muster he lashed out at the thing with his left arm, as he did so there was a loud crack and then a jolt of agonising pain shot through his body.
    Unable to contain himself, the old man let out a piercing scream.  The black shape turned and scurried away, frightened off by the sudden cry that leapt out from the silence.
Now, the old man had broken out in a cold sweat, pain rippling through his arm.  "Damn that vile creature," he cursed through clenched teeth, trying to withhold the pain inside him.       "Where am I?"  Again, he tried to recall where he was and what he was doing, but still he got no answers.
    A sudden rumbling sent shock-waves through the ground beneath him.  The noise grew louder, almost deafening, he could feel the earth shifting below.  What was happening?  Terror struck him as another shifting sound joined the chorus, this time the sounds came not from below, but from above.  Creaking and groaning, and then a crash.  Suddenly the old man's world went silent as he fell into darkness.

There was a roar like thunder as the earth rose up and threw Lori to the ground.  She was bruised and battered, blood seeping from cuts and grazes all over her body.  Weakened from being continually thrown to the ground, she tried to pull herself to her feet, it was difficult with the earth shaking so violently beneath her.
    The destruction that she was witnessing all around her was far more severe than the damage from the earlier earthquake.  What does it all mean?  What is happening?
    Lori tried frantically to get to her feet, dragging herself along the ground.  She had to get to the barn.  She was sure that she heard a cry from there, just before the earthquake started.
    Could it have been her father?  She knew he kept a few bottles of whisky in there, maybe it was him, he could still be alive.
    Finally, she could see the barn, a few more seconds and she would be there, but then there was a loud crack, like an explosion, the ground beneath her feet fell away.  Quickly, without thinking, she lunged forward, reaching for the grass in front of her.
    She landed with a thud, knocking the air from her lungs.  She lay still for a moment, taking deep breaths, then peered back over her shoulder.
    Behind her she saw a huge crater where the ground had fell away, it was more than fifty feet across and maybe twenty feet deep.
    Again she struggled to her feet, clutching her heavily bruised chest, only to be thrown to the ground again as the earth continued to shift.
    This was becoming a regular occurrence, she needed a new approach, this time she would crawl on her hands and knees.  On her first movement she felt a surge of pain shoot through her shoulder, causing her to collapse in a bundle on the ground.
    After a few moments she tried again, this time keeping the weight off her injured shoulder.  Slowly and steadily she began to make her way toward the barn, and then, as quickly as it had began, the earthquake stopped - realising this, she rose to her feet again, this time she wasn't thrown down, she remained upright.
    It took only a few seconds to reach what was left of the barn, but it seemed like hours.  Every step was agony - her shoulder swollen, temples throbbing, ribs aching, and her knees cut and bloodied.
    Upon reaching the barn she stopped, scanning the wreckage with her eyes.  There!  She saw something.  A shoe!
    She rushed over to it quickly, clambering over the piles of wood, slipping several times, gathering even more cuts and bruises.
    It WAS a shoe, and there was somebody underneath, buried beneath the wood.  Her father?
    As quickly as she could she began moving the broken planks.  She winced with pain with every movement, throwing the wood aside, using her good arm to drag the large wooden beams out of the way.
    Eventually she uncovered the face of the man trapped beneath the wood.
    "Father!" she screamed.
    The old man lay still, not a single movement.  Lori felt for a pulse.
    He's alive.
    The panic began to dissolve, quickly she started shifting the remaining wood.  What would she do once she'd freed him?
    Where would they go?  The city?
    Yes.  The city.  There must be someone there - police, a rescue team, somebody that can help.  That seemed to be their only chance, but how would they get there.
    Casting the last piece of wood aside, she noticed her father's mis-shapen arm.  Gently touching it with her trembling fingers she came to the conclusion that it was broken.
    Quickly she grabbed two small pieces of wood that she could use as splints to brace it.  Something to hold them in place?  Her dress.
    Using all the strength she had left she tore two thin strips from the bottom of her dress.  The fabric came away much easier than she had thought, due to the battering it had received.  Carefully, she wound the material around the splints and the arm, and then tied the ends together as tightly as she dared without risking further damage.
    How would she move him?
    Then she remembered an old trolley by the side of the house, she could lay him in it and push him, at least until he regained consciousness, it would be hard going but she could manage - she'd have to.

Frank opened his eyes slowly.  What had hit him?  He remembered running down the street - he had to get home - then the ground starting shifting again, a sharp pain on the back of his head, and then nothing.
    That was it, something must have fallen on him.  He could feel the weight of debris on his body, the taste of dust in his mouth.
    On opening his eyes, his mind was flooded with a torrent of blurred colour.  He could barely concentrate on anything but the pain in his head, then remembering his special training, he tried to block out the pain.  It worked with aches and burns, but nothing as excruciating as this, as he soon found out - he'd just have to suffer it.
    "First things first," he thought.  He started to flex his muscles, to get the blood circulating again, so he could try and move some of the rubble before anything else fell on him.
    The monstrous weight that rested on top of him was unimaginable, it would have crushed a lesser man, he just realised how lucky he was to be alive.
    Lucky?  He might have been luckier if he'd been killed outright when the whole thing first began.
    To start with, he freed his arms, then proceeded to remove the larger pieces of concrete from his chest, and then, eventually from his legs.
    After regaining his strength, he turned onto his side and tried to push himself up, then, as soon as he raised his head, the world around him started spinning and he slumped to the ground again.
    Finally, he decided to lay still for a while, to regain his strength and co-ordination.  Turning his head to one side, he took a good look at his surroundings.
    Despite a few more tons of concrete on the road, and several more cracks, the city still looked pretty much like it did after the first quake.
    Across the street, a young girl walked in a disoriented fashion, stumbling, and then clutching the wall for support.  Frank watched her for a while, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old, he thought.  He wanted to call out to her, for help, but didn't seem to have the energy, so, he just lay still and watched her.
    Suddenly, as she passed an open doorway, a rough-looking figure stepped out, grabbing her, one arm around her waist, the other around her neck.  She let out a scream and tried to struggle free, but was too weak, too dizzy.
    Frank watched in horror, as the girl was dragged inside the building by her assailant, screaming with terror, then, using anger as a driving force, he leapt to his feet, forgetting the dizziness and pain, and charged like a raging bull across the street.
    On entering the room, he glanced quickly around.  There, on the floor, near the far wall, he saw the attacker laying on top of the terrified girl.  She seemed to have given up her struggle, too scared to fight back.
    Frank sped across the room and grabbed the man with the ferocity of a bear, and with one hand, flung him across the floor.
    The man hit the wall with a crunch and then fell to the ground, stunned for a few seconds, then rose to his feet.  He was of slim build and about six feet tall, he had short black spiky hair, he was dressed in black boots, black leather trousers, and a dark green vest.
    "Come near me big man, and I'll cut yer in two," he shouted wildly.  Reaching down his side, he unsheathed a large machete that was strapped to his thigh.
    Frank could have drawn his revolver and dispatched him with a single shot, but he preferred a more sporting fight.  He advanced slowly, his eyes burning with rage.
    An instant later, the thug lunged forward, dwarved by the giant that stood before him.  With his left hand, Frank caught the thug's wrist, there was a snap, and the machete fell to the floor.  The fingers of his right hand tightened around the smaller man's throat, lifting him off the ground.  The thug let out a gargled cry, seconds later he slumped lifelessly to the floor.  There was no need to check if he was dead, Frank knew what he was doing - nerves and pressure points were his speciality.  Before he got into the private security business, he was an unarmed combat instructor in the army, training recruits for the special forces.  He taught soldiers to kill their enemy as quickly and efficiently as possible - and lasting only three seconds, this bbout was the shortest he'd had for a long time.
    "It's okay love, you're safe now," he said sympathetically, as he crouched beside the girl.
    Slowly slipping his arm around her, he lifted her to her feet.
    "My name's Frank Hennessey, what's yours?" he asked warmly.
    "Sindy," replied the girl, nervously, "Sindy Raines."
    "Do you live around here, Sindy?  Can I take you anywhere?"
    "They... they're all dead," she replied, shock beginning to seize her, "ev... everyone I know... all dead."  She broke down in tears.
    Frank held her close to him, being as comforting as he could under the circumstances - the thought of his own family still prreying heavily on his mind.
    What am I going to do with her?  I can't just leave her here.  These thoughts bombarded his mind.  He stood still for a moment, holding the frightened girl to his chest, thinking about his predicament and considering his somewhat limited options.  Gently easing the girl away from him, he looked down, calmly gazing into her watery eyes.
    "Come on, I'll take you with me, there's some people I've got to look for," he said, slowly leading her to the door - after all, it was either take her with him, or leave her here on her own, and in her condition he didn't fancy her chances of surviving alone, not here in the city.
    High up in the sky, the sun shone brightly, as though the day were like any other, not like you'd expect after such a severe catastrophe.  The air was still and dry, an eerie silence hung over the city.  Broken buildings stretched up into the pale blue sky, casting great black shadows onto the ground.
    "It's not far now," said Frank, "about another twenty minutes or so."
    It would have been quicker, he thought, but with his additional responsibility he couldn't move at his top speed - the girl would never have kept up with him.
    "Are you a cop?" asked the girl nervously, eyeing his dust-covered blue uniform.
    "No, I'm a security guard," he replied. "Me and my team work at the new shopping complex over on Taylor Avenue."
 Work!  Worked would have been more appropriate, and the new shopping complex was now no more than just a heap of rubble.  If there was one thing he could be sure of, it was that he no longer had a job.
    "You were pretty mean back there," she said, calming slightly, "I've never seen anyone fight like that before."
    "I spent thirteen years in the army," he said modestly.  "Special forces."
    The girl was silent for a moment.  "Who are you looking for?" she asked cautiously, not sure of whether this was the right time for a question of that nature.
    Frank didn't reply, but the expression on his face changed to one of great concern.  He remembered that very morning, grabbing his car keys off the hook, and then kissing Kerry and his son goodbye, not knowing that this could be the last time he'd ever see them.  'Have a good day, honey,' said Kerry.  'I will, don't worry,' he replied, as he stepped through the door, 'and give my regards to your mother.'
    Kerry was taking little Peter to her mother's today, maybe they weren't even home when the earthquake struck, maybe he should have looked for her at his mother-in-law's apartment instead - maybe - his mind was flooded with maybes.  Wherever they are, in this destruction, he knew the odds were against them still being alive.
    "Are you alright?"  Sindy's voice seemed to cut into his thoughts like a knife
    "What?" he replied, as if he'd just been caught unaware.  "Oh... yeah, I'm fine... I was just thinking, that's all."
    "What about?"
    "Oh, nothing in particular."
    They were entering the suburbs now, the damage here didn't seem as bad as it was in the city.  There were some large cracks in the roads, and in some places shallow chasms had opened up, taking down several houses.  Although they were badly damaged, most of the houses were still standing.  There were a few police cars and ambulances scattered around - the officers and paramedics were greatly outnumbered and unable to cope with all of the casualties, and there was nowhere to take them - the nearest police station and the hospital were gone, and the roads in the city were impassable except on foot - they were fighting a losing battle.
    "We're here," said Frank anxiously, "just around this corner."
    As they turned the corner, the expression on Frank's face turned to horror, his skin went a sickly pale as his eyes took in the horrifying sight that lay before him.
    A huge crevasse, nearly a hundred feet across and about three hundred feet deep, had opened up in the ground and swallowed half of the street, his house included.
    Frank stood paralysed, his emotions in turmoil, his body trembled as a battle raged inside him, one half wanting to jump into the crevasse to find his family, the other half telling him to stay calm, he couldn't let himself break down in front of the girl - she needed him, and he had to stay calm - they might be alive, they could have ggone to her mother's, they could be there.
    "C'mon, they're not here," he said, turning to the girl.
    "Who?" she asked, enquiringly.
    "My wife and son," he said, obviously trying to suppress the trauma inside him.  His conflicting emotions - sadness, guilt, anger.
    "Oh," she replied softly, realising now what he was going through, seeing the pain he was trying to hide, after all, she was going through it too.
    Just as they turned, to head back into the city, in the direction of his mother-in-law's apartment, a shout came from nearby.
    "Frank."  The voice showed a hint a pain.
    Frank turned to see his neighbour limping toward him, holding a stick in one hand to support some of his weight - blood soaked through his trousers on his right leg.
    "Roger!  Are you alright?" Frank shouted, running over to him.
    "It's okay... just my leg, it's not broken," he replied, trying to hide the agony it was causing him.  "Who's your friend?" he asked, looking at Sindy.
    "This is Sindy," he said, "I rescued her from a nasty ordeal," he paused and then moved closer, continuing quietly, "she's lost her whole family... I couldn't just leave her on her own."
    "Hey, c'mon kid, you'll be okay with Frank around," he said, giving Sindy a sympathetic look.
    Frank ushered Roger away, not wanting Sindy to hear them.
    "Roger, did you see if Kerry went out this morning."
    "No," said Roger, looking up at Frank, now giving him a sympathetic stare, "I'm sorry, I don't know.  I was on the night shift, the first I knew of anything was when I was laying in bed and the ceiling came down on me."
    "It's okay, maybe they went to her mother's... I'll have to go over there and check."
    "Would you mind if I came with you."
    "Sure you can, Roger."
    It was now late afternoon, the sky was starting to turn grey, the three of them turned around and headed back into the city, it would take them hours to walk to Kerry's mother's apartment block, but it was Frank's last hope of finding his wife and son - if they were still alive.
 
 

Return to Fiction & Poetry page

Return to Contents page