Faulted Page 5

  “He needs to be warm,” the woman said.

  “Are you folks just walking?” asked Guy. “Or do you know where you want to be?”

  “Walking,” Kep answered. “Nothing is left around here. Hoping to get further east and find help for Mary.”

  “Honey,” Mary knelt down to Carter and helped him change his shirt. “Do you think you can walk?” Carter nodded and she turned her head to Kep. “Give me a bottle of water. We need to keep him hydrated.” When he gave her one, she extended it to Carter. “Take a drink. There you go.”

  Instantly, it seemed the woman mothered him, and Guy journeyed with them. While he needed to know how his own son was doing, his priority at that moment was Carter.

  Kep and his teenage son helped Guy carry Carter. He and Carter were strangers to this family, yet they reached out to him.

  They traveled together, walking at a slow pace. Most of the homes appeared modest and to be single story, they were leveled like card houses.

  Kep stated several times he had lost his sense of direction, and he kept trying desperately to find a landmark.

  The family was home having lunch when the earthquake hit, or whatever it was that shook the foundation of not only buildings but lives.

  For all Guy knew they could have been heading north or south. He just wished there was a way to leave a message for CJ, to help find him.

  Kep and Mary told him his best bet was to find a public shelter or emergency center and then try to find CJ.

  Finally, not long into their walk the sounds of distant gunfire, explosions, rumbling ground and people crying were no longer the only sounds. Sirens rang out and helicopters could also be heard.

  ‘Emerging from the ashes,’ Guy thought, then said, “It’s about time.” And looked up to the sky when a helicopter flew by. “Anyone know how long it’s been? You know, since this happened?”

  Kep tapped his watch a few times. “Looks like just about three hours ago.”

  “My God. Three hours?” Guy asked.

  “Closer to four, I bet,” Mary added. “Looking to the sky. “It has to be near six. Your watch keeps stopping.”

  “Yeah, it does.” Kep held it to his ear.

  “I can’t believe it has taken that long to hear some sirens,” Guy said.

  “They’ll only come out if they can help,” Kep said. “I think we should stop. Take a break. Pull out those energy bars for the kids.”

  Mary nodded. As she slipped the bag from her shoulder she paused at the sound of a rumbling motor and air brakes.

  A huge, orange colored, county truck stopped right behind them.

  Humanity strikes again.

  “Any of you folks need some medical attention?” the driver asked, then stepped out.

  “Yes,” Mary answered. “The boy does. He had drown, and I have these …” she pointed to her face.

  “I’m making a run to the elementary school,” the driver said. “They’re getting an emergency center together there. I’ll take the injured if you’d like a ride. If you aren’t injured, I can’t take you. I need the room in the back.”

  Mary faced Guy. “Take Carter in the truck.” She handed him a protein bar. “You need to get him seen by a medical person.”

  “You need to be seen as well.”

  “I won’t leave my family.”

  “Mary,” Kep said. “Go. Me and George will walk. We can make it. We’ll follow behind in the truck.”

  “I don’t want to leave you.”

  “Go. We won’t be far behind. I promise.”

  Mary agreed and walked to the back of the truck with Guy.

  When the driver pulled down the hatch, Guy was shocked to see the number of people in the back of the truck. They were all injured, some really bloody. All in some sort of shell shock state. Guy, Mary and Carter climbed inside. They sat near the back, on the bed of the county maintenance truck. Guy sat near the gate looking out as Kep and George followed.

  They moved slowly, driving over rubble. Guy knew Kep and his son George wouldn’t have a problem trailing the truck. It couldn’t move very fast.

  Even at a slow pace, the truck was taking them farther away, and each block they traveled added to the impossibility of Guy reuniting with his own son any time soon.

  The water finally ended and with it was the painful reality of how much death and destruction the wave brought. CJ and Mindy had walked the edge of the water the entire distance, and in doing so didn’t register how wide the water had spread.

  The wave moved inland unevenly, some spots deeper, and CJ supposed some spots were barely hit. He knew for a fact that the collapsing of 105 caused almost a funnel for the water, creating almost a river.

  Though the water had receded where they now walked, it was evident it had been washed over.

  But the river was wide, wider than even CJ originally thought. He didn’t think of it like the ocean sweeping in, had he done so he would not have been emotionally prepared.

  Bodies.

  When they arrived at completely dry land, untouched by water or the wave, all they saw were bodies.

  Too many to count, too many to truly see them all.

  There had to be thousands, if not tens of thousands.

  They ventured off the path of 105 into a mostly residential area. The houses were crumbled, mere shells of themselves, and the bodies were everywhere. Any flat area, they were there … on top of rubble, against cars, in cars.

  Left to right, as far as he could see. Death.

  The wave had been humongous, it came in like the monster it was. As if it were the being from the movie, ‘The Blob’, collecting everything and anything in its path, only to spit whatever it collected out when it was finished.

  CJ cringed, it reminded him of the pictures he had seen from the massive Indonesian Tsunami and the bodies on the beach.

  Or a playing field for a massive rock concert where everyone just dropped dead.

  The people who lost their lives didn’t just drop dead, they lived long enough to know what was happening to them, to be scared, to cry and pray.

  It was heart wrenching, even more so to think that his father and son could be out there among them.

  The only way for CJ to know was to look, and he would. He and Mindy would look at every single body even if it took all night.

  He had to. It was the only way to know, and until he did, he couldn’t move forward.

  TEN

  The orange of flames dotted throughout the area. The people around them were mere shadows. The campfires were their only source of light. The sky was partly cloudy, making the night sky even darker, sporadically blocking out the stars and moon.

  Despite his pain, Ruben could have kept going. But fate had other plans, or rather, those in authority had other plans. As the sun faded, and the temperature dropped, Roger tried to make a fire for those they had pulled from the water and wreckage.

  There was a woman there, Ruben had wished he had gotten her name. She searched cars, finding water and things they could use for bandages and blankets, along with other items. One of which was the note he would eventually leave for CJ when they had to leave.

  The large military truck rolled by just after six pm.

  The truck and the four men in it took most of the people that Ruben had gathered and said they’d be back.

  A curfew was being placed in effect.

  “Do we know what happened?” Ruben asked. “Is it all of Los Angeles?”

  No one gave him answers, just said they would be back.

  “To take us where?” Ruben asked. “Do you know where? We have people out there searching, they’re supposed to be back. We have to let them know where.”

  “We’ll head to station four,” the man told him. “It’s 104 and Crenshaw.”

  “Is that where we’ll go?”

  “More than likely.”

  Ruben wrote that information down on some hotel stationary the woman had found and he placed the note in the door jamb of the li
mo, hoping that Mindy and CJ would return and find it.

  They hadn’t returned yet.

  Ruben wasn’t worried. He figured the late hour and the darkness caused them to stop.

  Three hours later the truck did return. At that point Ruben was hungry and thirsty, his fingers and thumb were numb and his arm had swollen to the point it didn’t look like his own limb. He and Roger loaded into the back of the truck and began the next leg of their adventure.

  He didn’t realize how flat the area was until he saw how leveled everything was. There wasn’t a whole building in sight. Nothing remotely recognizable remained.

  The truck moved slowly, bouncing as it crossed over debris.

  They were headed to a camp somewhere. How an address was even established, Ruben didn’t know. Perhaps they were at the epicenter of the quake and the farther out they traveled the less damage there would be.

  There had to be something remaining or how else would they be able to organize rescue workers?

  Ruben just watched from the back of the truck, cradling his arm.

  The first thing he wanted to do when he got to wherever they were going was to see if they had a phone or some sort of communication. He thought about his son and how worried he and his father had to be. He just wanted to get word to him that he was alright.

  When they finally arrived to their destination, the truck stopped and one of the rescue workers came around to the back and opened the gate. Then he just walked away.

  He said nothing, he didn’t tell anyone what to do or where to go.

  When Ruben unloaded from the truck he looked around. He couldn’t tell where they were, or what sort of place it was. It looked like a massive campsite or compound. Large campfires had been built, and multitudes of people surrounded them. Echoing voices called out in the darkness as if coming from some sort of megaphone. Multitudes of tents had been erected and one small square brick structure remained.

  There appeared to be no organization. It was chaos. However, there were people … life.

  Right then and there his end of the world, neurotic fears had been relieved. It was bad, but it wasn’t the apocalypse.

  It was a localized disaster, plain and simple, something they’d make it through. There was help. It wasn’t as bad as he originally feared

  At least, that was what Ruben thought.

  <><><><>

  Guy had fallen asleep. In a chair next to Carter he rested his elbow on Carter’s cot, propped his face in his hand and fell asleep. He was able to relax. They had arrived in the camp hours earlier and nothing was really there. It was still in the building stages.

  Trucks with supplies moved in. Ill were separate from the healthy. Anyone with medical training was there to assist, but they had no tools, no real means to help.

  Then just after sunset things started to take hold.

  More trucks arrived with supplies. The Red Cross showed up. Guy and the others were the first to arrive and got the most attention.

  Guy didn’t know what was happening after Carter was seen by a doctor, and he really didn’t care. His grandson’s wellbeing was first and foremost.

  The doctor that attended to Carter told Guy that the child was lucky. Most drowning victims in the wave didn’t survive. Even though he had fluid in his lungs, he would recover with rest. Carter was placed on a cot in a tent with other people. People with cuts, bruises and head injuries. Guy stayed by his side. He was asked if he needed medical attention, but Guy felt his injuries, while sore, were minor.

  He was told there was food and a warm beverage, but Guy didn’t care about that. He didn’t want to leave Carter. He watched as the tent filled to capacity. There were no longer enough cots for the inured or ill, only spaces on the floor.

  In a folding chair, next to the cot, Guy stayed holding his grandson’s hand, grateful he’d be okay and worried about CJ.

  Then Guy relaxed enough to fall asleep.

  He slept hard, long and deep, even in an uncomfortable position until he was awakened by another aftershock. It wasn’t the quaking ground that stirred him from his slumber. It was the eruption of screams.

  It had to be the hundredth one Guy felt, and people still screamed in fear. Even Guy was shaken by it, taking an immediate hovering and protective stance over Carter until it subsided.

  But this one jolted him awake. Carter slept peacefully, attached to an IV and propped up on pillows.

  Guy could hear noise outside the tent. Trucks, voices, someone speaking over a PA.

  His stomach rolled in hunger and his mouth was dry. It was time to seek out that food table, or at least get a beverage.

  He walked through the medical tent, looking at each and every person he passed, just in case CJ was there. There was a female nurse at a table by the tent entrance. She was writing things down, looking through clipboards. Guy asked her about food and she told him a table was set up center of the camp, he couldn’t miss it.

  Once outside, Guy froze. When he arrived there weren’t that many people. Now, it was a massive endeavor. As far as they eye could see there were refugees from the disaster. They gathered around campfires, laying on the ground. More tents had been erected, big ones, like the medical tent he had just walked from. It went from a miniscule attempt being an aid station to a massive chaotic endeavor. There wasn’t a spot of open area to be seen.

  In the distance emergency spotlights were erected. Guy used them as his beacon and headed that way, dodging trucks that rolled by, bringing more people.

  He tied to keep his wits about him, remembering where he walked, looking back every few feet. He didn’t want to get lost or lose his sense of direction and not be able to find Carter.

  Soon he found the food table. A canteen was set up. It had a long line. A self-serve, giant coffee urn before a couple of tired workers served up soup and bread.

  Guy waited in line. He was hungry. Carter was sleeping, now he could get his food and coffee and return to the child before he woke up.

  No one spoke to each other, not at all. Everyone was shell shocked, moving about aimlessly, inching forward, no expression, almost like zombies.

  As he waited in line Guy did notice one thing. A man. He sat off to the side of the table on the ground, and he held a radio to his ear.

  Guy kept watching him. His eyes shifting to the man, not wanting to lose him.

  Just as he was given his bowl of soup Guy heard the call of his name.

  “Mr. James. Hey, Mr. James.”

  Cup and tray of food in hand, Guy turned. Sure enough he recognized the man.

  His entire arm was in a cast and the man rushed to Guy. It was the limousine driver.

  “Oh my God,” the man said. “You’re alive.”

  Guy just stared at him.

  “Ruben. I’m Ruben,” he said. “Mindy’s …”

  “Yes. Yes. I know. You were trapped in the Humvee,” Guy replied.

  “Roger got me out.”

  “My son … his son had gone down to help him. Have you seen him?”

  “He’s fine,” Ruben said.

  Guy exhaled with a gasp of relief. “Is he here?”

  “No. He went looking for you and his son. Is the boy … is your grandson …”

  “Fine. Alive.” Guy replied. “He’s okay. He’s resting. Healing, but fine.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “But my kid’s alright, correct?” Guy asked. “He’s fine?”

  “Yes. And I left word of where they were taking us.”

  Guy felt the weight of the world drop from him and he wanted to scream in relief. His child was alive and well. Even though he wasn’t there, he was alright. And that was music to Guy’s ears.

  “I have no doubt,” Ruben said. “He should be here by morning or at least afternoon.”

  “I can’t tell you how relieved that makes …” Guy paused when the man holding the radio walked back to the food line.

  “You alright?” Ruben asked.

  “Yes, just �
�� excuse me.” Guy walked away from Ruben to the man that held the small radio to his ear.

  Ruben followed.

  The man refilled his coffee.

  “Excuse me,” Guy stopped him. “Excuse me.”

  The man turned to him. “Yes?”

  “You have that radio, are you getting anything?” Guy asked.

  “Some.”

  “Any news? Do you know what happened?”

  “Not much detail,” the man replied. “I just know it’s bad everywhere.”

  “So the entire Los Angeles area is bad?” Guy questioned.

  “No. Not only Los Angeles. It looks like everywhere,” the man said. “I mean … everywhere.”

  ELEVEN

  CJ threw up.

  It was a combination of the head injury and the countless bodies that surrounded him. It was a daunting task, some he didn’t need to look at. He skipped over the women at first and then he felt guilty because there they were, they died alone. No one to hold their hand, to watch them take their last breath. Simply acknowledging them was the least CJ could do. He couldn’t cover them, give them any final moments of dignity. The only kindness he could show was to move them together so they weren’t just scattered bodies, bent and twisted over rock and rubble.

  He and Mindy moved them as best they could, clearing out a huge section, but barely making a dent.

  Then it got too dark to see, so they stopped.

  “Here’s some more dry wood,” Mindy added it to the fire. “Did you want to go back?”

  “No.” CJ shook his head. “We have to look. My father and son were swept away. Chances are …” he glanced outward. “They’re here.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  “Pop-Tart?” she asked brightly as she sat down.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Pop-Tart.” She extended the rectangular pastry to him. “I had them in my bag. I’ll look for more food if you want something more substantial.”

  “This … this will work, thank you.” He broke it in half after taking it and then had a small nibble. “So you brought Pop-Tarts, you found wood, a lighter, water and ibuprofen. That’s pretty impressive.”