Aftershock

Fuck.

Lauren stared at the cracked helmet in horror, as if it was his head. Even Don appeared distressed.

Garrett couldn’t afford to panic, and looking down made him feel queasy, so he returned his attention to the crevice. The rebar barrier left open spaces that were almost large enough to accommodate his hand. He slipped the mirror past the barrier and squinted at the too-bright reflection.

The sun was out. That was all he could see, and it was enough.

He didn’t want to expend too much effort looking around when his top priority was hanging the flag. Instead of removing the mirror, he pointed it upward and bent the wire around the rebar. Reflective flashes could be seen for miles. Then he took the flag from his pack and passed it through the crevice.

Don had attached the fabric to a wooden pole with a tie on one end. Garrett tied the pole to the rebar and hoped the flag wouldn’t fly away in the wind.

He had one more task to complete, which was checking for cell phone service. It was worth a shot, even though power was down all over the county. As he wrestled the phone from his pocket, he started swaying in midair.

Uh-oh.

An aftershock rumbled through the structure, ripping the phone from his hand. Concrete bits rained on his face and several metal squares popped simultaneously. He fell about ten feet, gritting his teeth as the harness caught. The force of motion sent him swinging like a kamikaze trapeze toward the far wall.

He slammed into it at full speed, cracking the side of his head. Pain radiated from his shoulder to his hip, which had taken the brunt of the impact. The last thing he heard before darkness descended was Lauren’s terrified scream.

* * *

IT TOOK EVERY OUNCE of strength she possessed to keep her grip on the rope.

Don was working just as hard as she was, if not harder, but they couldn’t hold on much longer. Garrett was so heavy. His body was slack and lifeless, head thrown back, arms and legs dangling at his sides.

What if he didn’t wake up?

Lauren shouted for Penny. They needed all the help they could get. The teenager was at her side in a split second, Cadence in tow. Both girls grabbed a section of the rope, easing the tension slightly.

It was just enough to buy them another minute.

“We have to lower him slowly,” Don said.

Lauren followed his lead. He showed her how to let out the slack in gradual measures so they wouldn’t lose control of the rope. She mimicked his motions, hand over hand. Working together, the four of them brought Garrett closer to the ground.

“Cadence, go hold his head,” she ordered. “Don’t let it hit the concrete.”

The girl released the rope and ran to Garrett, cradling both arms under his head. They lowered him the last few feet until he lay sprawled on his back.

Safe.

Lauren rushed to his side, checking his wrist for a pulse. It hammered against her fingertips, strong and steady.

He moaned, listing his head to one side.

She was so relieved to see signs of consciousness that tears sprang to her eyes. Cadence held up her hands, showing Lauren the blood on them. Lauren reached into her medical bag for moist wipes and gauze. She passed the wipe to Cadence and pressed the gauze to the wound on Garrett’s scalp, stanching the blood flow.

“Can you hear me?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

“Yeah.”

“Who are you?”

His throat worked as he swallowed. “Garrett Wright.”

“Remember what you were doing?”

“Something stupid.”

She choked out a laugh that was half sob and continued to put pressure on the wound. Tears spilled down her cheeks, unbidden. One of them splashed on his face, leaving a clean mark on his skin.

Your water shall mingle with our water.

He opened his eyes to stare at her, his pupils normal size. She realized she was making a fool of herself, and didn’t give a damn. Although she was the only one bawling, she knew the others shared her concern.

Penny and Cadence exchanged a smile. When Penny elbowed her, Cadence giggled behind her hand.

While Don escorted them back to the RV, Lauren took the cloth away from Garrett’s head to check the size of the wound. It was less than an inch long, and could be sealed easily with tissue glue.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“My shoulder.”

“Can you move your arm?”

He did so with a wince. Lauren didn’t think his shoulder had been dislocated, but she’d give it a closer examination.

“Just rest for now,” she said. “I’ll check it out after your head stops bleeding.”

He swallowed again, grimacing.

“Are you nauseous?”

“A little. I’ll try to warn you before I hurl.”

She let out another shaky laugh, wiping her weepy eyes with the hem of her shirt. When his gaze followed the motion, she realized that she’d exposed her bare stomach and the undersides of her breasts.

“Why are you crying?” he demanded.

She took a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

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