Aftershock Read online

  4

  Sasha

  The fire alarm was going off. It kept a shrill beat, echoing off the cinderblock walls of the school.

  Slowly, Sasha lowered her arms and sat up straight.

  She wasn’t anywhere near the wall anymore. Her chair had drifted into the middle of the room.

  To her right, toward the windows, glass shards covered the floor.

  To her left, piles of fallen books sat in front of empty shelves. Study tables had slid against bookcases. A large potted plant had tipped over in front of library’s double doors. Ms. Midio, the librarian, shouted, “Someone call 9-1-1!” Sasha couldn’t actually see Ms. Midio—she just heard her urgent voice.

  Liam and Ray crawled out from under their table in front of Sasha. Their chairs—and the books they’d spread on the table—now lay on the floor several feet away.

  “That was crazy,” gasped Ray. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt a quake that big.”

  “You okay, Sasha?” Liam called over the bellowing fire alarm.

  “As far as I can tell, yeah.” She reached down and unlocked her wheels. They looked okay—no obvious punctures.

  Ms. Midio was still shouting. “Is someone calling 9-1-1? Can anyone hear me? Answer me, please!”

  “On it!” shouted Sasha, pulling her phone out of her jeans pocket. “Are you okay, Ms. Midio?”

  “I—I’ve hit my head, I think.”

  Liam stood up. “Where are you?” he called. “We can’t see you.”

  “Behind the front desk. A—part of a light—fell from the ceiling—”

  Liam rushed toward the front of the library, climbing around overturned chairs and spilled books. Ray moved closer to Sasha and pulled out his own phone.

  Sasha had never called 9-1-1 before. She’d been in no shape to do it when she needed it two years ago. Someone else—the driver who hit her—had made the call. Still, dialing the numbers made her think of the intersection of Pleasant Street and Miles Avenue. She swallowed the sour taste in the back of her throat.

  The 9-1-1 dispatcher’s voice came through her phone, asking the nature of her emergency. “Hi, yeah, I’m at Garrison High School, in the library, and someone was hit in the head during the earthquake, possibly by a falling light fixture . . . ”

  “Is she conscious?” the dispatcher asked immediately.

  “Yes—”

  “We’ll get someone over there as soon as we can. Response time is going to be slower than usual because of debris blocking some of the streets and because of the huge need right now.”

  “Okay, I understand. Should I hang up so you can answer more calls?”

  “We’d appreciate that.”

  Sasha ended the call. By now, Liam was almost at the front desk. “Ms. Midio, help is one the way,” he said.

  “Don’t try to move her,” Sasha called to him. “Especially her head.” As the daughter of the school nurse, she’d picked up on some first aid tips here and there.

  “Just stay still, Ms. Midio,” Liam said. He disappeared behind the front desk. Sasha couldn’t see him anymore, but she could still hear him. “Here, I’ll get that off you . . . Better? Yeah, just stay right there—”

  “I’m all right. I can sit up,” Ms. Midio groaned.

  “Uh, okay, just take it easy. Great, okay, now just sit like that for a minute. Help will be here soon.”

  The principal’s voice came on over the PA system. It was hard to hear her with the fire alarm still buzzing, but Sasha managed to get the gist of the announcement.

  “ . . . Teachers need to evacuate the school immediately . . . Gather in the parking lot . . . Need to stay calm . . . Proceed in an orderly fashion . . . ”

  Ray moved toward the windows, stepping around the bigger shards of glass. “People are already pouring out the front doors,” he reported.

  “Do you see my mom?” asked Sasha.

  Ray shook his head. “She’s not jumping out at me. Too many people. We’d better get out there.”

  Up at the front of the library, Ms. Midio was saying, “I’m fine, I’m fine now, really.” She stood up, and Sasha finally saw her. She wasn’t bleeding, but her hair was mussed and her expression seemed a little dazed. Liam grabbed her arm to steady her.

  “Okay, Ms. Midio,” Liam said. “If you think you can walk, let’s get you outside. Then you’re gonna sit down and wait for the paramedics. Got it?”

  She nodded.

  “All right, let’s go.” He turned toward Ray and Sasha. “I’ll be right back, guys.”

  “No, we’ll meet you outside,” said Sasha. Standard earthquake procedure: you’re not supposed to go back into a building after you’ve exited.

  But Sasha wasn’t sure Liam heard her over the blare of the fire alarm. Plus he was focused on keeping Ms. Midio upright and on moving the giant fallen plant away from the door.

  In her mind, Sasha traced a path from her current position to the library doors. As a little kid, she’d run obstacle courses in gym class. Now, she saw most of the world as an obstacle course. She’d learned to dodge stairs, curbs, steep drops, sections of sidewalk pushed up by tree roots.

  But this was on a whole other level.

  Ray was already starting to clear a path for her, shoving tables and chairs and books out of the way. Sasha wheeled herself forward, a half-turn at a time. Don’t be impatient. Impatience gets you nowhere. That was one of the first lessons she’d learned after her accident.

  Still, she couldn’t keep her heart rate from kicking up a few notches. Garrison High School had been built to follow the state’s earthquake codes, which meant it should be able to withstand a powerful quake. But it had also been built in the 1990s, and Sasha’s mom was always complaining that the building needed more upgrades than the school system could afford.

  Sasha didn’t want to stick around to find out how badly the building needed those upgrades.

  5

  Liam

  The power was out. Liam didn’t realize it until he stepped into the hallway and registered how dim it was. The fire alarm was still pulsing. It was starting to give him a headache, actually.

  His priorities: One, get Ms. Midio outside and turn her over to a responsible adult. Ideally Mrs. Hill, Sasha’s mom. Two, make sure Sasha and Ray got out okay. Liam knew he shouldn’t go back inside the building once he was out. Year after year, they’d all heard the same safety tips during their drills at school. But Liam didn’t like leaving his friends to fend for themselves, either.

  The hallway in front of him led directly to the front doors of the school. Liam and Ms. Midio were only about fifty yards away from the freedom of the outdoors. The hallway was empty. Most of the other students and staff must’ve evacuated already.

  Correction: the hallway was empty, except for the massive chunk of the ceiling that had fallen into the middle of the floor.

  Liam stared at the huge piece of concrete in his path. Wires hung from the hole in the ceiling, limp and sad, like skinny arms reaching helplessly toward the concrete.

  “Ohhhhkay,” he said to Ms. Midio. “We’re just gonna walk around that really carefully. Watch your step, Ms. Midio.”

  Even with Ms. Midio a little unsteady on her feet, it wasn’t hard to sidestep the danger zone. Liam hugged the wall and stepped cautiously over smaller pieces of broken concrete. He held his breath, trying not to inhale the dirt particles floating in the air. Half a second later, he and Ms. Midio were clear of the rubble. Still, he didn’t feel any better.

  There’s no way Sasha can get past that.

  The rest of the hallway seemed to be intact. They had a clear path to the front entrance now. Liam picked up the pace, moving as fast as Ms. Midio seemed comfortable with. He shoved open a door and walked out into the sunlight, leaving the screech of the fire alarm behind.

  Students milled around in the parking lot, hugging or searching for their friends. Teachers frantically tried to keep their classes together and take head counts. Liam didn’t see a single emerg
ency vehicle.

  He spotted Sasha’s mom sitting on the sidewalk curb with a crying freshman.

  “Mrs. Hill!” he called to her. “Ms. Midio hit her head. We think she might have a concussion. Can you keep an eye on her?”

  “Liam! Of course. Where’s Sasha?”

  “She’s fine,” Liam told her, already turning around.

  “But where—”

  “Hold that thought, Mrs. Hill.”

  Before anyone could stop him, he sprinted back into the school.

  6

  Sasha

  Ray and Sasha had almost reached the library doors when Liam reappeared. “Hey! I don’t think you’re gonna be able to get through the hallway, Sasha. Part of the ceiling fell in.”

  Ray’s eyes widened. “Part of the ceiling fell in? And you took the risk of coming back inside? What were you thinking?”

  “One, I wanted to warn you. And two, obviously I’m an idiot. Moving on.”

  Sasha waved her hand, signaling him to step aside. “Let me through. I want to see.”

  Liam moved out of her way. She wheeled herself forward, into the hallway.

  There was a crater in the ceiling. The fallen debris and the dangling wires added up to a five-foot-high pile of you-shall-not-pass.

  “Okay, you’re right, Liam.” She hated saying it, hated admitting defeat. Mostly, she hated the thought of being stuck here until an emergency crew showed up, while everyone else rushed outside . . .

  “We’ll stay with you till the emergency crews get here,” said Ray.

  Sasha glanced away, grateful for how casually he made the offer—and knowing she shouldn’t accept it.

  “Sooo, do you have a plan for what to do if the rest of the ceiling falls on us?” asked Liam. “Because we probably won’t be much help to Sasha if we let ourselves get trapped inside a collapsed building.”

  “Says the guy who got outside and chose to come back in,” muttered Ray.

  Liam ignored that comment. “We can get her out another way. There are side doors, emergency exits, aren’t there? Somewhere?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s a great idea to go wandering around in building with an unstable roof.”

  “We don’t know for sure that the rest of the roof is unstable—”

  “And I’d rather not find out!”

  While Ray and Liam bickered, Sasha’s eyes drifted back into the library, to the table where they’d been sitting a minute ago. Sunlight poured through the shattered windows.

  Wait.

  “Guys, what if we don’t use the hallway?” Sasha said. “What if we use the library window instead?”

  “Uh,” said Liam, “how exactly are you going to climb out of a window, Sasha?”

  Good old Liam, always needing it spelled out for him. “With help,” she said.

  ***

  Sasha loved her wheelchair. It had a rigid frame, which meant it didn’t fold up like the wheelchair her great-grandma used. But it was small and ultra-light, and the wheels detached. Sasha was used to getting herself in and out of it—every morning and night, every time she went to the bathroom, every time she got into a car. But even with her strong arms, great balance, and years of experience, she knew she couldn’t get herself out of the library window on her own. The windowsill was just too high.

  That was where Liam and Ray came in.

  By now, they knew her wheelchair almost as well as she did. They called it Peg—short for Pegasus, the flying horse from Greek mythology. Ray’s idea, because Ray was the nerd of all nerds. And just as important, they understood Peg the Wheelchair’s relationship with Sasha. So they knew exactly what to do.

  Liam started by carefully lifting Sasha out of the chair. (It helped that Liam was built like a retired linebacker. His muscles might not have been rock solid, but he had enough bulk to support plenty of weight easily.) Meanwhile, Ray used his spiral notebook to sweep a path through the broken glass on the floor and to clear the shards off the windowsill and frame.

  Next, Ray popped the wheels off the chair so that he could easily pass each piece of Peg through the window. He leaned down over the windowsill and lowered each piece carefully to the grass on the other side before climbing through himself. Then, he carried the pieces to the smooth blacktop of the parking lot, where he quickly reassembled the chair.

  Back inside, Liam sat down on the window sill, holding Sasha against his chest. Bracing his back against the window frame, he swung one of his legs over, then the other. By the time he carried Sasha into the parking lot, Ray had her chariot ready.

  They heard a rumble and then a crash somewhere nearby.

  Liam jumped. “What was that?”

  “I think it was another part of the roof,” said Ray. “Dude, it was such a bad idea for you to go back inside. I mean, we could get hit with an aftershock at any time. And who knows what could happen to the roof then?”

  Aftershocks always followed big quakes. They were basically spin-off earthquakes—less powerful echoes of the main event. Sometimes they came a few hours later. Sometimes they went on for days, weeks, even months. They tended to get a little weaker each time, so at a certain point they weren’t worth worrying about anymore.

  That point hadn’t arrived yet.

  Often, aftershocks caused more damage than the original quake, giving weakened structures the extra whack they were waiting for. Garrison High School looked as if the slightest nudge might collapse it.

  “You’re welcome,” said Liam sarcastically to Ray. “No need to throw me a parade. I just didn’t feel comfortable leaving my friends behind when they could be in danger, that’s all. Hold your applause.”

  Ray sighed. “Okay, I probably would’ve done the same thing. But it was still stupid.”

  “Duly noted, Grandma.”

  Just then, Mrs. Hill came running over. “Sasha! Oh, honey, are you okay? I was keeping an eye on the ramp, but I never saw you come out.”

  “Yeah,” Sasha smiled innocently. “That’s because I didn’t use the ramp. I couldn’t get out through the main entrance.”

  “Then how did you get out?”

  “Oh, you know, just some blockbuster stunts.”

  Liam jumped in. “Is Ms. Midio okay, Mrs. Hill?”

  Mrs. Hill turned to him. “She’s going to be fine. Possibly a mild concussion, but nothing too serious. I have Mrs. Oliver watching her. You, young man—”

  “I know, I know, bad life choices.”

  Mrs. Hill turned back to her daughter and shook her head. “I’m glad you’re out of there, but I hope you didn’t do anything too risky. You could’ve damaged your chair, even if you didn’t hurt yourself.”

  “Chair and I are both fine,” Sasha assured her. She never called the chair Peg in front of her mom. Changing the subject, she asked, “What about Jeremiah, though?” Sasha’s little brother went the elementary school a few blocks from the Hills’ house. That school was newer than Garrison High, so Sasha hoped its roof was sturdier.

  Mrs. Hill’s face was always stretched thin over a sea of suppressed worries. But at the moment, it looked even more strained than usual. “I don’t know. I can’t get any calls through. The cell towers are probably jammed. That can happen in an emergency situation. And I tried to text Mattie”—that was the elementary school’s vice principal—“but that didn’t go through either.”

  They heard the principal’s voice again. This time it came from the megaphone she was holding, instead of from the internal PA system. “Students! Students, I need your attention, please! Clap once if you can hear me.”

  “Oh, come on . . .” muttered Ray in irritation. But he clapped anyway.

  After the successful “clap twice” stage of the exercise, the principal continued. “Emergency responders will be arriving soon. Anyone who needs medical attention should see Mrs. Hill in the meantime. School is canceled for the rest of the day.”

  “What about our stuff?” yelled a student.

  “Yeah, my backpack’s still insi
de!” someone else added.

  “It’s not safe to reenter the building,” the principal said. “But your items will be returned to you as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I encourage you to stay here until you can contact your families. You should wait to return home until building managers confirm that your homes are safe. I urge you to be extremely careful. Many buildings may be damaged. And of course we have to be prepared for aftershocks. Be smart, and be safe.”

  “Easier said than done,” said Sasha under her breath as the principal lowered her megaphone. Students immediately started murmuring among themselves. No one seemed any calmer than before the principal had spoken.

  “How are we supposed to contact our families if we can’t get calls or texts to go through?” demanded Liam. He sounded personally offended that the principal hadn’t thought of this.

  Ray studied his phone screen. “Hold on . . . Yeah, okay, my phone is still connected to the Internet. So I’m just gonna e-mail my parents. This would be easier if they knew how to send messages through phone apps, but I mean . . . old people.”

  “We should check in with Harper while we’re at it,” said Sasha.

  “Good idea,” said Liam, whipping out his own phone. “Just sent her a Facebook message.”

  “Sasha, honey, will you be okay here while I take care of some kids’ bumps and bruises?” Mrs. Hill asked. “We’ll head home as soon as the ambulances get here.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Sasha waited. Waited for an aftershock, which didn’t come. Waited for news, hopping from site to site on her phone. Her brother’s school’s Twitter account announced that everyone was okay and that kids were waiting outside to be picked up. The town’s official website said that the Edson Community Center would be open to citizens who’d had to evacuate their homes. Other friends drifted over—checking in, offering hugs, comparing stories. Ray and Liam heard back from their parents, who were stuck at work but unhurt. Sasha sent her own message to Harper, but she didn’t hear anything. Liam didn’t hear from Harper either. Ray finally tried too, with no results.