Tainted Crimson (4 page)

Right as I'm about to jump out into the fresh air, Nathan's hand leaves my arm. "Nathan?!" I struggle through a hoarse throat and gasps for air.

Nothing. I know I'm not going to be any help lying on the floor unconscious while people stomp on me so I decide that I have to keep going without him. At least to get a breath, then I can go back in and find him.

When my lungs get a taste of the fresh air I almost jump for joy. I take a few more rushed breaths and I blink rapidly trying to get the stinging in my eyes to go away. I look around through blurred vision. People are running back and forth and there are red and blue lights everywhere. I wipe away another set of tears and begin blinking again. As soon as I can see, though my eyes hurt so bad they can barely stay open, I scan the crowd for Nathan.

I see many girls, like me, with their eyes running and mascara ruined as if they've been crying for hours. I look around some more and see that there's mainly men outside. Did they all push through to the front leaving the women at the back? Assholes. There's no sign of Nathan anywhere.

Suddenly there’s an arm around my shoulders pulling me further away from the building.

"Ari?! Ari?! Are you okay? Come, get out of the way," demands a familiar, very worried, voice. Dad.

"Dad?" I ask through a cough.

"Thank god, you're okay. I just got here to drop off a jacket for you for the party tonight. Thank god. Thank god, you're okay. What happened?" he asks frantically as I continue to cough and cry. I’m not sure if the tears are still from the smoke or if I am actually crying now.

"I don't know. The lights went out and the sound cut out and then a little bit of a fire started somehow on the curtain on the stage and it spread. I mean one second it was just this little tiny spark and the next it was covering the entire room. It was like someone drenched the room in gasoline," I say using Nathan's earlier analogy and reminding myself that he's probably still in there. "I have to find Nathan. He was with me until like three steps before the door. We were at the far back of the room and he helped me push all the way to the front. He was holding my arm until about three steps from the doorway," I cry, still gasping. "I have to go back in."

"You will do no such thing!" he shouts. “I’m sure he’s made it out and is looking for you too.” He hesitates for a moment and I'm too busy having a coughing fit to argue. "I have to go in, Ariella."

"No!" I shout.

"Kids have stopped coming out of the doors now, Ari. It looks like many are still in the building. You know what that means right? I'm just going to see if there's anyone I can pull out by the door. If I can save even one person I will feel better. I can't just stand here when I could be doing something." He's right, I know exactly what that means. It means those who have not already suffocated from the smoke or burnt to death from the fire are dying right now, passed out in the burning building.

"They won't let you go in there," I shout at him.

"Ari, I'm the chief firefighter. I call the shots. Speaking of which, I have to go," he says apologetically and then releases me from his grasp. "They're going to want to have a doctor or someone check you over. Go home, you're fine. There are many other kids that need the help more than you do. My keys are in the gas tank of my truck parked across the road. I'll get a colleague to drop me off at home afterwards. They won't like you leaving without getting checked but there's so much going on that you can probably sneak away without notice."

I've always loved that my dad's a firefighter. I mean, I've always been able to call him a hero. He saves lives for living. But never before, have I totally understood how dangerous his job is. How much he risks for people he doesn't even know. That is, until today.

He disappears into the crowd and I decide to walk around and see if I can spot Nathan. If I worry, I will be even more useless. I put on the mask that my dad taught me to and push my fear to the back of my mind so I can think clearly.

"Ari? I'm so happy you're okay! This is all so crazy! Have you seen Geoff? I can't find him anywhere! We were both right beside the doors when it all went down, I'm sure he had to have made it out." Nathaly Matthews wraps me in a firm hug. Geoff is her boyfriend and also my neighbor which is how I know the both of them.

"No, I haven't. I just got out a second ago though. Have you seen Nathan? I mean you probably don't even know who he is what am I thinking," I blabber and continuously scan the crowd.

"Was that guy you were standing with at the snack bar all night? I haven't actually. Sorry," she apologizes and releases me from the hug.

"That's okay, but I better get looking., I say a little rudely and push through the crowd which has thinned drastically since I initially came out. I realize it's because the fire trucks are trying to get in closer to the building and all of us are standing in the way. I follow the crowd out across the road and out of the way.

Here, people are crying and parents begin showing up to make sure there kids are alright. Word spreads fast. There are even news crews interviewing students already.

I stare at the doorway of the building I just left and wait for people to emerge. After starring for ten minutes and seeing no one come out, reality sinks in. I wonder how many kids are left in there dying. 100? 200? More?

Paramedics are pulling people onto stretchers and driving away with their sirens blaring. It's like something off of a TV show. More ambulances are continuously showing up and cops continually push back the crowd so the emergency crew can do its job.

A school bus pulls up front and people start getting on it. "You all must see a doctor before you go home today! Your parents may take you themselves if it's not urgent. If you are burned or are having trouble breathing or have some other urgent problem please find a paramedic. Otherwise, please get on a bus to go to the hospital," one of my teachers directs through a voice amplifier, her voice shaking.

I watch as a boy with long brown hair approaches a paramedic while holding a jacket around his arm. When he removes it to show what's underneath I nearly gasp. He's burnt so badly that his arm is barely recognizable. He takes a small glimpse at it before falling to the ground. I hope he's only fainted from the sight of his arm and something worse hasn't happened to the boy.

We're all lucky that the nearest hospital is only ten blocks away and within walking distance because the roads are so jammed up that there's only enough room for the emergency vehicles and school buses to get through. Parents must be parking blocks away and walking. What a mess.

Just as I think things can't get much worse, a loud 'boom' radiates throughout the vicinity and flames shoot from the door and roof. Everyone on the sidewalk with me cries out with shock and terror but I just stand there gaping. My dad is in there and possibly Nathan and so many other kids. God, probably a quarter of the school population is still in there I estimate, while glancing around at the people who made it out. I crumple to the ground.

"Ariella, I found Geoff. Are you-" It's Nathaly, I can tell she speaks through tears even though I'm not looking at her. I cut her off.

"I think my dad was in there," I shout painfully and finally I feel the tears I’ve been holding back since the fire began, leak from my eyes and down my cheeks.

I sit there for only a moment before pulling myself together and asking myself what my father would do. He would do anything to help. But there isn’t anything I can do, is there? There are firefighters and ambulances and cops and god, I’ll just get in the way.
 

After hours of sitting in my dad’s truck trying to hold back the tears that pour from my eyes, I realize that the only people left at the site are the firefighters still working on smothering the flames. I figure that it’s time to head home. I pull my phone from between clutch and look at my messages. I have a million of them. Most are from Mya, some are from other friends making sure I’m okay, but none are from Nathan or my father. I text Mya and my other friends back to let them know I’m fine, physically anyways. I also shoot my dad and Nathan texts both reading 'are you okay?’ Then I put my phone away.

When I get home, I pull off my dress and slip into some pajamas before slumping onto the living room couch and pulling a blanket over myself, setting a glass of water on the floor beside my makeshift bed for my still aching throat. I leave all of the lights on, afraid to turn them off in case my father somehow miraculously comes home. Maybe he wasn't in the building yet. But then why wouldn’t he have called to let me know that he was okay? Surely he would know I would be worried. Then again, maybe this is some twisted test of my strength. No. He couldn’t possibly be that harsh. Could he? Suddenly, I’m not so sure. The only thing I have to hold onto for hope is the fact that I didn’t physically see him go into the building and therefore it was possible that he wasn’t in there when whatever it was that exploded, exploded.

In my mind I can hear the screams, still feel how the intense heat felt on my skin, and remember the harsh effects of the smoke on my lungs, eyes, and throat. I try to push it back so I can sleep but then something else emerges. Something that I pushed away hours ago both because it was distracting me from escaping with my life and because it was too
impossible
for my mind to comprehend. The boy, flying upwards into the flames on the roof and burning to death. Oh god, his screams of absolute terror. They were the worst of all the screams. What exactly did I see back there? I try and shove it back behind my mental wall, but it just keeps escaping. I can’t stop thinking about it.
How?
I mean, there
has
to be a logical explanation, I just have to find it. I’m not one to believe in ghosts or zombies or vampires or any of that supernatural crap that the media fills people’s heads with these days. I am a logical person and there has to be a logical answer. And so, I lay on the couch for a very long time attempting to think up realistic explanations. I'm not sure how long I lay there before I finally drift to sleep, but eventually I do get a little bit of rest.

I awaken to my cellphone ringing and answer it before even checking the caller ID. It’s barely light out and I can't imagine who would be calling me.

"Hello?" I answer drowsily through a sore throat as the happenings of the night before come back to me.

"Ari? Oh, thank god! What the hell! Are you sleeping? How did you possibly fall sleep? I've been up all night watching the news! I've been calling you every five minutes since I heard what happened!" It's Mindy.

"Sorry, I must've slept through the rings," I apologize.

"I thought you were dead! You had me calling around the country in the wee hours of the morning trying to figure out if you were okay! You couldn't have at least texted me?" she demands.

"I'm sorry Mindy," I apologize bitterly. "I had other things on my mind. Like you know, I think my dad was in there when whatever it was in the building blew up. I was also busy worrying about how my date was likely still in there too and a lot of my high school classmates," I scold her.

She's quiet. A first for her.

"I'm sorry," I say apologizing genuinely.

"No, you're totally right. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," she amends.

"What did you hear on the news?" I ask her, changing the subject, and reach for my remote.

"Nothing really. They don't seem to know anything yet. Hey, let me bring a pizza over okay? I'll be over in half an hour," she promises and hangs up the phone.

I think about protesting but she's right. I'm starving and could really use a friend right now. I remember what my dad told me when my mom died.
Ari, it is okay to cry. Sometimes. But only for a little while. While it’s safe to.
I cry.

It isn’t long before there is a knock on my front door. Only it’s not Mindy. It’s Jacob Whiler, my father’s best friend and basically my second father. Jacob also works for the fire department. My heart feels like it drops to my stomach. Is he here to tell me that my father is dead?

“Good morning, Ariella. Glad to see you’re okay,” he greets me with a half-hearted smile. “Sorry to bother you at such an early hour but I didn’t think you’d be sleeping after all that...er…
craziness
last night.” He eyes my pajamas apologetically.

“Hey, Jacob. I was actually already up. My friend is bringing over pizza. Come in,” I motion with my finger and swing the door open wider, dressing my face with the best smile I can.

He takes a step inside.

“Oh, good, I'm glad I didn't wake you. Is your father in bed? I’d like to have quick word with him if he’s awake. If not, I’ll have to catch him later.”

“Uh…no…he never came home last night,” I inform him sadly.

Jake’s eyebrows merge in confusion. “His truck is in the yard.”

“I drove it home last night," I tell him as anxiety begins to build up inside me.

He nods in understanding.

“When was the last time you seen him?” I ask him hopefully. I hope he knows more than I do.

“I’m not sure. I was so busy running around trying to help that I can’t say for sure. There were so many people and firefighters and paramedics and Christ,” he mumbles almost to himself, his eyes glazing over as he goes back to last night. “I saw him talking to you early on when everything was super nuts and then I can’t say for sure if I saw him again.”

My fears that he
was
in the building when the explosion happened, resurface.

“He told me he was going in to see if he could pull out any bodies from around the doorway. I never seen him actually go in but not long after that…” I trail off choking up a bit.

“The bomb exploded,” he finishes with a nod and I can tell that he too is worried about my father’s safety.

“What?” I exclaim. “Bomb?”

“Yes, it was no accidental fire. We have reason to believe that gasoline or a highly flammable substance like it, likely one without much of a smell, was thrown on the walls and even ceiling of the building. We also believe that the explosion was the result of a bomb going off inside the building. Maybe as a last resort to kill any remaining people inside. The fire spread too quickly to have been started by a faulty wire or even a lighter. We’re sure that it was a targeted attack.”

I gape. Who would try and kill 800 kids?

“Did you see anyone rush outside shortly before the fire started?” he continues.

I think about it. “No, sorry.”

“Quite alright. We don’t even know if someone started it from inside of the building or if they did it from outside of the building. We’ll know more once the wreckage cools down and the police can check things out. I got sent home to get some rest. I assumed your father had too when I couldn’t find him this morning. I just wanted to ask him what he thought about it. He always has the best theories. I’ll try calling him later I suppose,” he reassures me and steps outside. Isn’t he worried that my father might be dead? He sure doesn’t show it.

“Alright, if you see him or get ahold of him by phone, will you let me know?” I plead.

“Of course.”

“Thanks. See you, Jacob,” I say my goodbyes before hugging him and then I begin closing the door.

“Ariella?” he asks softly with a small smile.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry about your dad. He’s the toughest man I know.”

I nod and continue to shut the door.

“And Ariella, it’s okay to be sad. You’re not a soldier, you’re a teenage girl. Holding it in will only make it worse in the end. That’s where your dad is wrong about staying strong. If you hold it in, one day, you’ll just snap. Then it’ll be almost impossible to make the pain go away,” Jacob suggests with understanding stretched across his face. He’s known my dad since high school and so he knows he’s a hard ass when it comes to showing emotion.
               “Thanks,” I say in a vague thanks and close the door. Jacob is practically family. He’s at our house all the time. He’s even helped me train on many occasions. He joins us for dinner at least twice a week and helps us celebrate every holiday. He may as well be my second dad.

Nearly right after I shut the door, it swings open and in walks Mindy, pizza in hand.

After Mindy arrives, we call the hospital to see if we can get anything out of them. The lady I talk to sounds annoyed. Which really isn’t unexpected. I mean, the hospital has probably been getting calls like mine all morning so I don’t blame the lady for being a tad snappy.

By the time I get off the phone with her I have come to the conclusion that I may as well head down there in person, maybe then I’ll get a straight answer.

Mindy jumps into the passenger seat with the pizza, seeing as we have yet to touch it.

“Alright, where are we going?” she asks.

“The hospital,” I inform her, determined.

“Ah, makes sense. St. Marie? By the school?” she asks, while opening the pizza box and shoving a slice into her mouth.

“Yep, I figure that’s where they would’ve taken dad and Nathan since it’s the closest.”

“Probably. Unless it was full of a million other students. Not all of them could possibly go to one hospital,” Mindy points out. She has a good point.

“Let’s start at St. Marie.”

After a short car ride and half a pizza, we are walking through the hospital doors. It’s packed. We have to push our way through people as if we’re at a concert or something.

“Jesus," Mindy grumbles.

“No kidding. Let’s just get to that nursing station up there.” I shout at her over the chatting crowd. I was expecting a few friends and family but not the entire student body plus their parents, teachers, grandparents, and probably first cousins. Like holy shit.

Once we finally make it to the nursing station, I pull out my phone and bring up a picture of my dad.

“Do you know if this man is in the hospital? He’s my father. His name is Theenis Malgrovech,” I ask her, using my father’s full name.

She looks at me and then to the picture. She sighs.

“One moment.” She says sounding exhausted.

She types something into her computer and I watch as her eyes widen the slightest bit.

“What?” I ask.

“Ma’am, please come with me,” she instructs after a moment. She leads Mindy and me down the hall to a part of the hospital that is not nearly as busy.

“Is Theenis your father also?” she asks Mindy.

“No, I’m just Ariella’s friend.”

“I’ll have to ask you to go sit over there and wait then. I’m sorry, dear,” she says earnestly to Mindy who nods and goes to sit at a row of chairs a little ways down the hall.

“Ariella, is it?” the lady asks.

“Yes.”

“Okay, well first of all you must understand that your father didn’t have any next of kin contact numbers on his account,” she says quickly. “We figured he hadn’t any family or we would’ve called. He was brought in very early this morning not breathing. We tried to help him but there wasn’t much we could do. He’s no longer with us, but he died a hero, Ariella. The paramedics that brought him in said he ran into a burning building and saved at least three student's lives before there was an explosion which they assume was what took him.” The elderly lady’s soft blue eyes are warm and caring. “I’m so very sorry for your loss.” She pauses as if debating whether or not to say what she says next. “We would like someone to identify the body, if at all possible. It doesn’t have to be you, it can be any family member or even a good friend.”

“I’ll do it. He doesn’t have any other family,” I tell her reluctantly.

“How old are you Ariella?” she asks.

“I turned 18 yesterday,” I tell her as panic makes my heart flutter. What will I do now? My father is all I have.
Had
.

“Perfect. Come with me.”

She leads me further down the hall to a different desk, asks me few more questions and has me sign some stuff before she brings me into the morgue. I’m ready to burst into sobs at any given moment and have to struggle to keep the tears back. My father is dead. Oh my god dad is dead. He’s
gone
. Oh my god.

I know I should be hyperventilating and letting the sobs inside me escape, abnormal control over emotions or not, but I’m in shock. Coming here, I knew that there was a strong possibility that this is what I would find but I still didn’t come here prepared. I don't think that it's possible to be prepared for something like this.

“Are you sure about this?” she asks as we step inside the chilly room.

“Yes,” I say blankly and follow her to a wall full of small metal doors.

She looks at a clipboard on the wall and then opens one of the doors and pulls the drawer outwards.