Wicked Sense (38 page)

Drake notices him, too. “Come here!” he yells
above the mayhem.
“Now!”

The boy
jumps off
his skateboard in a seamless movement, abandoning it on the sidewalk, and runs to us. He positions himself between Drake and
me
. Drake puts his
left hand on the boy’s shoulder, who nods gratefully, but says nothing. Drake’s right hand still holds mine.

The rumbling subsides. The screeching sound of metal on metal goes away. The noise of destruction, inside and outside, fades.
Except for the
car alarms. When I tune that out, the remaining silence
is
eerie.

I’m still shaking, but I think now it’s mostly my legs.

Drake’s nervous smile regains some confidence. The boy between us, despite his cocksure skull t-shirt, smiles sweetly to me. He turns to Drake
and
reach
es
for the hand on his shoulder
. They
fist-bump
without uttering a word, and the boy
dashes to his skateboard,
left
overturned
o
n the
curb
.

“I know him,” Drake
explains
. “He lives down the street.”

His words awake
n
me from my terror spell. I take a deep breath, but my knees stumble, and I almost fall. As always, Drake is there for me, and he catches me.

“Easy,” he says. “You okay?”

I’m embarrassed
to show
weakness, and I
straighten up
quickly
.

“I think so. But I felt magical energy—”

My cell rings.

“Skye!”
Gemma’s
panicked voice greets me. “Are you
hurt
?”

“
No! I’m fine.
Drake’s here with me. How about you?”

Drake
watches me for a second, and then
runs inside.

“I’m okay. I hid under the table,” she says. Thank Goddess for the massive dining room table. “Do you need me to pick you up?”

“No, I’m fine,” I say. I see Drake going upstairs.

“All right. I’m on my way to Linda’s. I’m worried about her.” Linda is our elderly neighbor, who lives alone. I hope she’s
safe
.

“Sure. Don’t worry about me,” I say. “I love you,” I add. It surprises even me.

After a beat, Gemma answers. “I love you too, dear. Take care. Call me often.”

“Sure thing,” I say. I hang up, moving inside to go
after Drake. Just then I see him
running down the stairs, two steps at a time, his cell
glued to
his ear.

“Mona is not answering,” he says
,
worried. “What are you doing? Go back to the door.” He grabs my arm with a strong, rough grip, and drags me back to where we were before. “Aftershock,” he says as a way of an apology.

While
we wait
for Mona to pick up, I
scan
the street. People are coming out of their houses to examine the damage, turn their car alarms off, and assist their neighbors. It’s about dinnertime and most families are home. A couple emerge
s
from the house in front of us. The woman carries
a
surprisingly quiet baby
and the man yells at us, “You guys okay?”

“Yeah
,
” Drake
answers
, cell still pressed into his ear. “
You
?”

The man nods and points to his baby, “Little Kevin was laughing the whole time. He thinks we were playing some game. Kids…”

Drake gives him a half-smile and points to his cell. “I can’t find Mona. I’ll go to her friend’s house. If we miss each other and she shows—”

“
I’ll let her know,” the man interrupts. “She can stay with us until you’re back.”

Drake just lifts his hand in a thanking gesture. The man
waves goodbye
and go
es
check on his family. Drake turns to me. “Is
Gemma okay?”

I nod. “Do you think we should drive now? I mean, the aftershocks.”

“I need to
know
that Mona is okay,” he says. His voice is breaking. “My dad left her with me.”

I remember his
pain over the fire incident. He doesn’t need to explain. “Sure,” I say. “Let’s go.”

My cell tink
le
s again. Connor.

“Did you feel that?” he asks.

No how-are-
yous
. Again. “Of course
I felt it
, you twi
t!”

“She’s right in front of our eyes, Skye. Can you track her?”

“No, it went away,” I say, ever the dutiful Sister.

“Come on, Skye, find her. Don’t screw this up!”

I look at Drake’s desperate expression. “I need to do something else now,” I tell Connor before hanging up.

I fe
ar the worst when neither Mona nor Pain answers
the phone
. And I don’t have Pain’s landline number anywhere. Stupid new cell phone.

Damn earthquake. The last one I can remember
hit when
I was a kid. It was much
weaker
than this.
Pain’s house is not far away.
I decide to run there with Skye.

We
hold hands and negotiate our way
through the people crowding the streets.
They
’re
still disoriented, looking behind their backs as if an aftershock might sneak up on them. Fortunately, very few are bleeding.
S
mall groups
sit
curbside
,
maybe afraid to get back
in
to the buildings.
Businesses are handing out plastic cups of water.

Traffic is slow. A few
cars
are
left in the middle of the road.
Going
on foot
was a good idea
.

An antique shop owner examines the damage inside. Some houses
and stores have broken windows. D
ebris and bricks litter the sidewalk
,
and at least one parapet fell—jud
g
ing by the lack of blood, not hitting anyone.

I see
s
mall
fissures
on the side of th
e
buildings
.
The sidewalks are uneven and cracked.
A
cross the street from us,
a water leak goes unchecked
.

Skye grabs my arm. She has a frightened look on her face. “What?” I ask.

“I sense another Sister,” she says, quietly. She looks around. “Not too close.”

“Do you—”

“No,” she says, “Never
mind. Let’s go find Mona.”
But she looks
over
her
shoulder
one
more
time.

We run the last block.
When I turn Pain’s street corner, my hear
t
sinks.
They are not outside
like everybody else.

Skye says, “Take it easy, Drake.”

I let go of her hand and run to Pain’s. While ringing the doorbell, I look through the window.
It’s a split
-level. Only
the foyer
is visible from the outside
. Nobody answers, so I go around the house, quickly looking through the windows. I
reach the backyard and
climb the stairs to the second-level deck.
Mona and Pain are just l
ying on the floor inside. Still.

I
yell
, “Mona!”
I try the door
handle
, bang on the
glass
door.

Skye joins me, peek
s
inside, and
picks up a heavy plant pot
.
“Get out of the way,” she commands.

She hits the bottom of the pot near the door handle, breaking the glass door. Mo
na
and Pain are far enough
away. T
hey aren’t h
i
t by the shards.

Some glass still clings to the frame, so I
sneak
my hand inside, unlocking the
door. When
I slide the fram
e
open
,
more
pieces of
glass fall
.
I don’t care. “Mona!” I yell again.

Skye is dialing 911. I
go
inside and kneel next to my sister, ready to start CPR. I saved Skye. I can save Mona.

But Mona is
still
breathing. A quick check tells me Pain breathes too.

I shake my sister gen
tly. No response. Mona just lays
on the floor,
still
.

N
o visible wounds, no blood. O
n
either of them. It actually makes me more anxious, not knowing where the
y are hurt,
or how much.

A
sorrow the size of the world overcomes me.

***

When the paramedics put
Mona o
n the
gurney
, I
almost
lose it.
I feel like I’m about to cry. Skye tries to consol
e
me.

Mona is stable, but unresponsive.

“
They’re
secured,” the paramedic says.
I pu
ll
myself together. I’ll ride with Mona
and Pain
in the ambulance
,
and Skye will drive my car to
the hospital
.

Skye points to the ambulance and
whispers
, “Just go.
I’ll be with you soon.
”

***

I called Dad after the paramedics arrived. He said he’
d
be
on
the first flight out of Vegas, but they told him they’re still assessing the condition
s
at Sea-
Tac
,
and the airport is closed. I try to calm him down, to no avail.

“It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you guys alone. I’m sorry,” he says. He doesn’t sound like he’s about to cry
. H
e just
looks
defeated.

Promising him I’ll call with news, I
hang up
. 

Neighbors called Pain’s parents,
who were having a night out. They too a
re on their way to the hospital.

***

They took Mona for exams. T
he anxiety is
killing me.

She looked so peaceful when I saw her.
R
ested
.
Actually, I’ve never seen her so beautiful, so… glowing. It made me even sadder, how she looked like a little princess.

But my sister is no little
kid
. She
is a tough, tough girl.

That’s the only reason I let them take her away from me. If it were up only to me, she wouldn’t leave my sight.
It may take a couple
of hours so I wander
around
the hospital,
drifting
like so many others tonight.

The TV in the
ER
waiting
area
catches my attention
.
Many people with small injuries await triage, and we’re all glued to the news.
The earthquake wasn’t catastrophic. No fatal injuries have been reported so far, but many are in the hospital, and the material damage is significant. The report says some pe
ople are having trouble locati
ng family and friends. T
hey are careful not to use the word “missing.” Everything is chaotic, a few cell towers are down, and they don’t want to
cause
panic.

The seismologist
s
are
surprised
by
the absence of aftershocks, especially when the earthquake was so close to the surface.
They can’t understand how an earthquake was produced at such shallow focal depth, whatever that is.
They say the city of Seattle was unlucky, because the epicenter was
right inside
the
city limits. On the other hand,
it
was
a minor event, only a 5.0.