Nine Minutes Read online

  Not that I would know what to look at, but surely, I’d see something that would indicate the roof of the cooler was bearing tremendous weight.

  We were all pretty reasonable, level-headed and strong in those after moments. I supposed that all would change as the clock ticked by. We were all in shock, plus we only heard the noise, we didn’t see what happened.

  It wasn’t real yet.

  We didn’t know what lay outside that door. What would happen when we opened it? Would the basement be nothing but an open pit? The building above us completely gone. In an attempt to grab fresh air, would we also let in a ton of radiation?

  That’s if we would even be able to open the door at all.

  There was a distinct possibility that the door wouldn’t budge, then again, letting in oxygen wouldn’t matter. We’d all pass out and die.

  I didn’t think much about what would happen after. Where we’d go, what we’d do, that was all a discussion we would have after we figured out if we could actually get out of not only the cooler, but the basement as well.

  In three or four hours we would know.

  I tried to focus on other things. Joan was helping the young man into bringing his cuffed arms to his front. It wasn’t easy, it took some maneuvering. He groaned a lot in pain. His wrists, arms and shoulders had to have been hurting. Finally, he did it, breathing heavily after he did. Macy whispered she felt bad for the boy. If my nine year old daughter referred to him as a boy, then he was young. I grabbed a bottle of water, opened my duffel bag and pulled out a roll of paper towels I had shoved in there.

  “Hey,” I said softly to him. “It’s not much, but can I clean you up?”

  He nodded.

  I poured some water on a towel. “What’s your name?”

  “Kevin,”

  “Kevin, I’m Henley, but call me Henny.” I started to clear the blood from his face, then noticed the gash. “I’ll bandage this as soon as we clean it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I take it this happened when you banged your head against the window?”

  “No one heard me,” he said. “I tried everything. They forgot about me. People just walked by. Could I ... could I have a drink of that? I haven’t had water in a day.”

  “Absolutely,” I handed him the bottle and fetched another.

  When I retrieved it, Pessimist Man looked at me.

  “Shouldn’t we conserve?” he asked. “I mean … we’re limited.”

  “I know. But his wounds need cleaned. I’ll go without if need be.” I returned to Kevin. “I know it’s cold in here. Probably won’t be for long.” I continued to clean his forehead gash. It was hard to tell the color of his hair, the front was a tangled mess with blood. “Tell you what, if we open that door, and the basement is intact, there’s a freezer down here. I’ll get you some ice.”

  “Thank you for being nice.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty.”

  “What did you do?” 2C asked. “I mean, why did they arrest you?”

  “I was trying to get to my mom. I just needed to get to my mom. She works at the hospital. It wasn’t my car, it was my friends and they shot the tires out. Then they said I stole the car. I kinda freaked out. I was mad, you know, then they arrested me.” He reached up with his cuffed hands and stopped me., “Thank you. I thought I was going to die in that police car.”

  2C walked over. “You should have. It’s a miracle you survived at all. We’ll figure out a way to get those cuffs off of you. Just …” he reached down and examined Kevin’s wrists, they were bruised and cut. “Try to be careful.” He took the water from my hand and gently poured some on his wrists. “I’m Mark, by the way.”

  His name was news to me, I never bothered to ask him, I would have eventually. A few moments later, Pessimist Man let us know his name was Ted.

  We were all strangers together in this situation. While I was certain we’d get to know each other, we started talking. Talking kept us calm.

  Ted did convey that talking sped up the CO2 process.

  It didn’t matter, we’d have to open the door anyhow.

  Listening to them talk, kept my mind off the anxiety of unlocking the cooler.

  Ted was a middle-aged horticulturist at the conservatory. Unmarried, no kids. He was talking to the kids at the Charter School when things fell apart. He tried to get out of the city to his home twenty miles south, but when he left the school, he learned his car had been stolen.

  Kevin felt the need to interject and say, “It wasn’t me.”

  Ted smiled at that, then told us he tried to make it home, called for rides, waited on buses, but to no avail, he was stuck. He had a ride out with a teacher, but like us, was stuck in traffic and opted to head back to the evacuation buses.

  Mark told us he moved to Pittsburgh from Florida. “Personal reasons,” he said. “But the job was here. I was staying a hotel until my apartment was ready. It wasn’t my first choice, but the area was cool.”

  “What was the job?” Ted asked.

  “Security systems at the county jail. I ran the computers, monitors and stuff.” He shrugged.

  “A computer guy,” Ted said. “What are your thoughts about this virus that started this mess?”

  Mark shook his head. “I'm baffled. Computer viruses are so common, but to infect these systems, this was a widespread operation with inside people. Homegrown terrorists.”

  “No kidding.” I cringed after the sarcastic comment slipped out. “No offense to your computer skills. That’s just … I’m sorry. That was rude.”

  “It’s fine,” Mark replied. “Doing computers is still fairly new to me. I was a cop in Florida for a long time.”

  “A cop,” I said. “Well, then you should be able to figure out how to get him out of those cuffs.”

  “I’m gonna try.”

  “Thanks. I’m not a criminal,” Kevin said. “I went to Pitt Tech. Or did. Then I switched to CCAC. I was gonna be an architect. I had like six weeks to go until my internship. How about you?” he looked at Joan. “Bet you’re a teacher.”

  “Me? No. No-no.” she shook her head. “I am a receptionist for the Family Counseling and Crisis center.” She shrugged a fake chuckle. “Which is funny because I don’t handle crisis well, as you could see on that bus. Now … now all I keep thinking is about those poor people on the bridge. Still in their cars. The ones that never got out.”

  Her words instantly took us all back into reality and there was an immediate return to a somber feeling.

  It wasn’t a casual meet and greet. We weren’t trapped in an elevator. Everything above had just been bombed. When that door opened, the world was going to be different and it wasn’t long before we’d be face to face with the truth of all that occurred.

  ELEVEN - BEYOND PLAIN SIGHT

  I didn’t complain about the cold because I knew it wouldn’t be cold for long. With tablecloths draped over us like blankets sitting in a cooler lit by only three table lanterns, we grew more and more silent by the minute.

  Occasionally we’d talk about what we knew and what we learned from the ‘how to survive a nuclear war’ crash course the news threw at us.

  None of us were really experts. Mark was the closest having had terror attack drills.

  I envied the innocence of my daughter. She was scared but didn’t show it. She didn’t worry like the rest of us. I guess in her mind she was safe and with me, and that was all that mattered.

  Macy showed confidence in my ability to protect her. It was a tall order to live up to, especially under the circumstances.

  Not long before it was time to open the door, Joan began to get fussy and antsy. She insisted it was time and that she could feel the carbon monoxide poisoning entering her lungs.

  Ted told her, “They call it the silent killer for a reason.”

  “I just know it’s time. No one even has a watch. It has to be time,” she insisted.

  “I do,” Macy said.

  �
��Sweetie,” Joan switched her demeanor to a pleasant one. “You are so nice, but honey, none of our watches work.”

  “Mine does. It’s a wind up.” She held her wrist to Joan’s eye level. “See. It’s six-twenty-five.”

  “Aha!” Joan snapped. “Thank you. It’s time. Four hours. No wonder I’m suffocating.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Ted walked to the door. “Okay. We’ll do this. Move Macy to the back and behind the boxes as best as you can. Henny, you go, Joan you, too.”

  “Why?” Joan asked. “Because we’re women?”

  “Um, yeah,” Ted answered. “Go back there in case there is an inferno outside this door. Civilization may be dead, but chivalry is not.”

  I waited for Joan to ask him if the feminist movement had taken a cut as well. She didn’t, she moved behind the back shelf with me and Macy.

  We decided that Macy should be as far away from the door as possible, though I didn’t know how twelve feet would make a difference if a blast of radiation came in.

  I did however, doubt there was an inferno. Surely, we would have felt it.

  Whatever was outside the door scared me, but it wasn’t in the form of radiation or fire, but rather in our inability to ever get out of the basement.

  That fear was reiterated when Ted pulled down the handle and pushed the door.

  It stopped.

  “Something is blocking it,” Ted said. He put his shoulder to the door and pushed. “Not budging.”

  “Do we need to open it more than that?” I asked.

  “Not for air, but eventually to get out,” Ted answered.

  Mark asked. “Can we worry about that later.”

  Ted shook his head. “Are you wanting to take a chance of something else falling and adding to it? I don’t. We have to try to clear the door now before something accidentally makes it worse.”

  Mark joined Ted in pushing. It budged an inch, but not much more. Kevin helped, but they made very little progress.

  Mark sighed out in frustration. “Someone has to go out there and clear it. And well, see what we are facing in the basement.”

  Joan stood up without hesitation. “I’ll go.”

  Ted shook his head. “We can’t let you do that.”

  “Why?” She asked. “I can fit through there and I’m strong. I’m very strong.”

  “I realize that.” Ted said. “But ...”

  “But nothing. I’m going. No arguments.” She held out her hand to Mark. “Can I have your flashlight?”

  Mark handed it over.

  “Thank you.” She walked to the door and turned sideways to slip though.

  “Are you sure?” Mark asked.

  “Yes. Positive.” She took a deep breath. “I have to pee.” With only a little difficulty she squeezed out.

  I envied her bravery, motivated by bodily functions or not. It took a lot of courage to be the first one to step out.

  Now it was a matter of just waiting to find out what was really outside there.

  <><><><>

  It wasn’t long, a few seconds maybe and Joan said,” Ok, I see what it is. Looks like some sort of beam. I won’t be able to move this by myself.”

  “Did it come from the ceiling?” Mark asked.

  “I don’t know. Yeah, it looks like a horizontal beam. I’m looking. The ceiling looks good, I think. I don’t know.”

  “If the floor didn’t collapse, it won’t,” I said. “The owners spent a fortune reinforcing the floor and ceiling, it could be one of the left over old beams. They had them stacked in the basement.”

  Joan continued to describe what she experienced. “It’s not smoky, but it smells burnt. Like rubber. Looks like a shelf fell into the cooler. That probably was what banged. There are a lot of spilled large cans.”

  Ted looked at me with questions as he stood right by the door. “Were there a lot of cans down here?”

  “Yeah, the bulky ones,” I replied.

  “There’s a freezer. The door is still shut. Should I go in and see what’s in there?”

  “Not yet,” Ted answered. “One of us will go with you when we come out to move that beam. Just find a place to do your business.”

  “Thank you. I will,” she replied.

  “Tell her there’s a small bathroom. Not much. More an enclosed Pittsburgh toilet.”

  Ted nodded. “Joan, there’s a Pittsburgh toilet out there they made into a stall. Henny said use that.”

  “Tell her it’s not very clean,” I said.

  Ted opened his mouth to repeat what I said then crinkled his brow at me. “Why does that matter?”

  I shrugged.

  “Okay, I see it. It’s over by the stairs,” Joan said. “It’s so dark down here, I have to shine the light on the floor, so I don’t … oh. Can you use a small meat cleaver to get those handcuffs off of Kevin?”

  Kevin’s eyes widened in terror. “No. No meat cleaver.”

  “Yes,” Mark said. “I’ll make it work.”

  “Dude,” Kevin said. “You can’t use a meat cleaver near my hands.”

  “Sure, I can,” Mark said. “Joan let us know when you’re done so we can come out and move the beam.”

  A minute or so later, I guess Joan found her relief spot, the cleaver slid in through the slightly opened door, then Joan followed. She handed the flashlight to Mark. “I’ll let you two move that beam.”

  Both of the men went out. Kevin kept sheepishly looking at the cleaver. Macy asking me if they were gonna cut his hands off didn’t help.

  Mark and Ted fumbling outside the door, their voices were low and it was hard to make out what they said.

  I focused on what was going on inside the cooler.

  “What was it like?” I asked Joan.

  “Dark. Very dark. We need to figure out a way to light it if we’re gonna go out there.”

  “We can take the oil from the little lanterns,” Kevin said. “Make one big one.”

  “That won’t last,” I said. “None of these lanterns are going to last if we don’t ration the lights. You’ll have to use your math skills to figure out a schedule.”

  “We can’t be down here that long, can we?” she asked. “I mean the bomb went off. That means all bombs, there are no more. It has to be safe to leave.”

  “There’s radiation we have to worry about,” I told her. “Plus, where are we going to go?”

  “How long for the radiation?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “I wrote things down in a notebook. I’ll look. We’ve only been here a couple hours. I know it’s not safe. Not right now. I remember the one guy saying the first eight hours are the highest levels. Or seven, I don’t know.”

  “I wanna go home, Mommy,” Macy leaned against me.

  “I know, baby, but I don’t know if we have a home to go to anymore.” I pulled her closer.

  “You know,” Kevin said. “They had warning, right? What if they were setting up camps. Like help stations. Maybe once we get out …”

  We all looked to the door when we heard Mark loudly whisper, “Shit.”

  Something about it cut through and we all looked at the door. A ‘thud’ preceded, both Mark and Ted rushing into the cooler.

  I stood up. “What’s wrong?”

  “We have a problem,” Mark said.

  “What? What is it?” I asked.

  “We’re not alone.” He pointed to the ceiling. “People are upstairs.”

  TWELVE – HUMANITY OR SAFETY

  My first instinct wasn’t to slam and lock the door. I didn’t go into survival mode, fight for what we had, I wasn’t thinking like that. “We have to let them down here.”

  “We don’t know how many there are,” said Ted.

  “Well, how do you know they’re up there?” Joan asked.

  “We heard someone crying,” Ted answered.

  “Oh my God.” I walked to the door. “We have to ...”

  “Stop.” Mark held out his hand. “This may be your place of business, but we … we�
�re all down here together. This should be a group decision.”

  “Did it sound like a lot of people?” Joan asked.

  Ted shrugged. “I don’t know. And can we keep our voices down. They’ll hear.”

  “I’m sure they heard you two out there,” I said. “They had to.”

  “Why didn’t they come down here?” asked Kevin. “I mean that would have been the logical thing to do. Anyone who hears about bombs thinks, go to a basement.”

  “They probably tried,” I said. “But I locked the door.”

  “Well.” Mark said. “Obviously you worried about someone dangerous coming down if you thought to lock the door in the middle of everything. So if you thought about danger then, think about danger now.” He leaned against the shelf and when he did, the clipboard we used to write down temperatures, fell to the floor.

  “Shh,” Ted blasted out.

  “Oh, can I have that?” Joan asked. “I can keep track of rations.”

  Mark started handing it to her and stopped. “A paperclip.”

  “Yeah, we clip them together,” I responded. “Every time we dropped that clipboard papers would fly. Why is that important?”

  I watched him take the clip and hand the board to Joan, then put the clip in his mouth, biting on it.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Saving his hands. I could miss,” Mark walked over to Kevin. “You know, if I use the cleaver. Can someone shine the light on these cuffs for me?”

  Macy was holding the flashlight and inched her way over to them.

  Mark crouched down. “Yeah, a cleaver wouldn’t have worked. These are hinged cuffs. Not standard link.” He lifted Kevin’s hand and adjusted the light. “Hold still. No one make a sound.” His hand maneuvered. There was a click. “That’s what I needed to hear. The safety is on. One second …”

  I heard the cuff release.

  Kevin sighed out almost a laugh in relief. “Dude. Thanks.”

  Mark did the other cuff. “There.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “Now …” Mark stood. “We have another able body for protection.”