The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5) (3 page)

Cheryl pulled a small flashlight out of the
large purse she had hung crosswise over her shoulders, casting a
narrow beam of weak light down the stairs.

“These look fairly clear. So we don’t wear
ourselves out needlessly, why don’t two of us go to the second
floor and see if the rest of the stairs are open, then the rest can
follow?” Cheryl suggested, already descending the first few steps,
Christine right behind her. They stepped over a few pieces of
broken wall and made it to the second floor without any problems.
After opening and securing that door for additional light, they
started on the next set of steps that would take them to the main
floor and hopefully the lobby.

***

Cheryl took a deep breath and pushed on the
long panic bar, opening the door into a wide vestibule near the
unmanned front desk.

“Yes!” they both shouted, giving each other a
high five.

“Let’s go get the others,” Christine
said.

Cheryl turned to her, handing over the tiny
flashlight. “You go get them. I’m outta here!”

“What? Wait! I thought this was a joint
effort?” Christine looked aghast at the middle-aged woman.

“I’ve got two kids and a husband at home that
I know are worried sick about me. I’m not going back now that I’m
free,” Cheryl said slyly. “You’re more than capable. Besides, you
still need to go back for your things in your room.” Cheryl darted
toward the lobby doors, her dark ponytail swinging.

“What a conniving bitch!” Christine groaned.
She took a moment to look around the vacant lobby. People were
still milling around outside like zombies. She headed toward the
bar wondering if Lois was still there. She pushed open the etched
glass doors to an empty room, and then let them close again,
wondering where her co-worker was.

She decided she may as well go get the other
women. She stopped at the registration desk looking for something
to write on; someone had to know about Jerry. After jotting a quick
note, she propped it up on the keyboard and spotted another, bigger
flashlight and took it.

The walk back up the stairs seemed longer and
more difficult. At the second floor, Christine stopped to catch her
breath and to make sure the door was still secured open.

***

“Oh, there you are. We were beginning to
think you had forgotten about us,” the older woman said. “Where’s
Cheryl? Is she alright?”

“Cheryl is fine, I guess. As soon as we got
to the first floor she bailed.”

“Bailed?”

“Took off, as in left, went home,” Christine
said angrily. “Here’s a flashlight to use. There’s very little
rubble on the steps, please be careful anyway. The second floor
door is open for light and so is the one at the bottom.”

“You’re not coming with us, dear?”

“I’ll be right behind you. I have to go back
to my room to get my things, and see if I can find Lois,” Christine
said.

“Well, you be careful. We’ll wait for you in
the lobby.”

“No, you should get outside, it’s probably
safer. I’ll see you in ten minutes, promise.” She smiled at the
older woman’s concern. She watched as the light bobbed along in the
darkness then disappeared.

***

It only took Christine a few minutes to get
back to her room, feeling stupid she hadn’t known about the keycard
needing electricity to work. She dragged her toiletries off the
sink and into a bag, shoving it into her open suitcase that she had
laid on the bed. Glancing at the pile of sheets on Lois’ bed, she
wondered again where her co-worker was. That was something to worry
about later. Right now she had to get her stuff and shopping bags
and get out of there.

With the boots and shoes out of their boxes,
all of the new purchases fit into one of the larger shopping bags,
which Christine attached to the handle of the wheeled suitcase.
Glancing at her watch, she saw it was already 1:00pm. She looped
her purse over her shoulder and with her hands now full of her
belongings, stepped into the hallway just as the second big
aftershock hit. She bumped against the wall and knocked the fire
extinguisher off its mount. Losing her balance, she hit her head on
the metal cylinder when she fell and lost consciousness.

Lois had just finished her
first beer and was tackling the mountain of macaroni salad on her
plate. She knew she was overweight and she didn’t really care.
Well, part of her cared. One shrink said her overeating was her way
of loving herself. Lois knew, when she got down to the nitty gritty
of it, it was simple: she loved to eat. That’s all, she loved food.
She had just polished off the macaroni when the first shock hit.
The building groaned and shuddered and she slid on the bar
stool.

“What the hell was that?” she asked the
bartender.

“Don’t ask me,” the young man said nervously.
“Here’s a beer on the house. I’m going to the front desk to see
what’s going on.”

Free food and free beer, Lois thought it
couldn’t get any better. She had planned on nursing that first beer
when she realized Christine had slipped out on her and she would
have to pay for her own drink. Lois had left her wallet in the room
intentionally, only taking her key card, hoping to sucker Christine
into paying. Of course it wasn’t Christine paying for anything, it
was her rich daddy who traveled a lot, so Lois didn’t feel guilty.
She had to put the beer on their room tab, and she knew the office
would make her pay for it when they got back. Oh, well.

Lois ignored the second rumble. When the full
force of the quake hit, she ended up on the floor with a broken
bottle and a chipped tooth. She sat there for a moment, dazed. Her
first instinct was to run. The next was to get to their room, get
her stuff, and get out of there. She scrambled to her feet,
ignoring the throb on her lip where the bottle had crashed into her
mouth, and headed to the elevators.

“Don’t use the elevator!” a voice behind her
said. It was the bartender returning to his post. “That was an
earthquake. Management says we’re evacuating the building. The
shuttle will take us out of here and to somewhere safe. We leave
here in fifteen minutes.” He eyed her. “If you have really
have
to go up, use the stairs.” He pushed through the etched
glass doors and left her standing there.

The training session attendees were spilling
out of the Coral Room, some carrying their half-eaten sandwiches
and running for the lobby doors leading outside. That gave Lois an
idea. She waited until most of them had rushed past her, then she
went to the buffet and made another sandwich—one for the road.

Lois pulled open the heavy door that hid the
stairway and stepped inside. The only light was the glow of the
exit sign over the door. With her left hand on the railing and the
sandwich clutched tightly in her right, she took a large bite and
started to ascend.

In the dim light, Lois couldn’t see the large
piece of wall hanging precariously above her until it was too late.
When the thin mesh backing gave way, a ton of concrete fell and
crushed most of Lois’ body. She died instantly, with a mouthful of
salami and cheese on rye with extra mayo.

***

Christine opened her eyes, momentarily
confused. The dark Berber carpeting that was leaving imprints on
her cheek had the nasty chemical smell of new carpet and she sat up
to distance herself from the noxious odor.

“Well, shit. That felt like another
earthquake or an aftershock or something,” she muttered, standing
on wobbly legs. She decided she’d better get out of there while she
still could. She wheeled her suitcase around the fallen fire
extinguisher to the exit sign and pushed on the door. It didn’t
move. Panic surged into her throat and she whimpered. While she
didn’t have many phobias, being trapped was at the top of that
short list.

She tried not to panic, remembering there
were other stairs. They couldn’t all be blocked. She headed around
the dark corner to the next exit. When that door wouldn’t open
either she did panic and ran to the next one, nearest the elevator
and above the conference room. Thankfully it was already ajar and
she squeezed herself through with her belongings and descended down
to the second level. Was this feeling of being trapped what her
father had felt when he was a mile underground in a mine during
cave in? She didn’t like it, not one bit.

Out of desperation she pulled on the next
door, even knowing the last time it only moved a foot.
Surprisingly, the door moved easily. Elated, Christine stopped in
the gloom, grabbed two chunks of concrete, and shoved them against
the floor like a doorstop. She slipped through the opening back
into the hallway and took a deep breath. The conference room door
was still open like they had left it. Moving quickly, she opened
that door wider and scanned the room, avoiding looking at Jerry’s
inert body and the congealing puddle of blood around him. Her eyes
settled on the refreshment table. She grabbed several bottles of
water, tucking one into her purse, one went into her shopping bag,
and two more went into her suitcase.

Christine checked the exit door to be sure
the opening was still wide enough for her to get back through,
pulling her luggage behind her. She turned on the flashlight Cheryl
had given her. The tiny beam of light cut through the darkness and
heavy dust to reveal more concrete on the stairs, but not total
blockage. She thought the second shock must have shifted some of
the debris.

She stepped into and onto the debris.

***

“You can do this,” Christine said aloud to
give herself confidence, thankful she had changed into the
comfortable walking shoes. She balanced on a slab of concrete and
inched her way forward, pulling the case behind her. The shopping
bag shifted and threw her off balance, and she landed hard on her
knees, tearing her new leggings. A cloud of concrete dust emerged
from the debris pile, sending a plume into her nose and throat,
causing a coughing and sneezing fit.

“Well that’s not going to work,” she grunted.
She slipped her briefcase into the center of the shopping bag to
protect the leather exterior and tied the handles of the large
plastic bag together, tossing the new clothes down the stairwell
ahead of her. She closed the pull handle on her suitcase and shoved
it forward, using the cloth exterior as a shield for her hands.

The descent was painfully slow; too slow for
Christine.

She flung the case a few feet ahead,
following it cautiously. After twenty minutes of creeping forward
inch by inch, she arrived on the first floor to find some wreckage
blocking the way out.

Christine started to pick up a piece to move
it out of her way, and then realized the door opened outward into
the lobby. She turned the flashlight back to light the pile of
rubble. She pulled the suitcase down and reached for the plastic
bag. When she moved the heavy bag, the sequined hot pink material
encasing Lois’ leg was exposed. Christine jerked backward, gasping,
and dropped the flashlight. She retrieved the flashlight, still
breathing hard. Focusing on the hot pink leggings, Christine aimed
the waning light around the area, seeing the huge slab on top of
her co-worker for the first time.

“Oh, Lois,” she muttered with a heartfelt
sob. Resolutely, she picked up her things and pushed the heavy door
open, emerging into the lobby. The flood of light was momentarily
blinding and the door swung shut behind her.

The crowd of people
outside the lobby doors had disappeared, leaving Christine to
wonder where they went or what else might be going on. She was
completely unaware of the rescue shuttle she had missed. She pushed
on the big glass door, then stopped and went back to the front
desk.

Finding the note about Jerry undisturbed, she
added Lois’ name, location, description, and the phone number for
the dental office, thinking there wasn’t anything else she could
do.

***

The weak November sunlight was fading.
Billows of oily black smoke were forming to the west and the light
breeze carried the stench eastward. Christine aimed her remote key
fob at the silver blue PT Cruiser to unlock the car, then put her
things and the shopping package behind the rear seat, deciding to
put the water in front where she could reach it. She placed two
bottles on the front seat and set her purse on the floor. A dog
howling in the distance caught her attention. The dog sounded
pathetic, like maybe it was hurt. Christine stuck one bottle of
water in her jacket pocket and locked the car. She stood with her
eyes closed, trying to get a direction on the dog. A half block
later, she stopped again and finally got a bead on the barking.

Rounding the corner, she had to step over
several piles of bricks that had fallen from the nearby buildings,
then spotted the dog. A beautiful golden retriever was sitting atop
a large pile of wreckage.

“Well, hi there,” Christine said softly to
the dog, edging closer. She loved animals, sometimes more than
people, and they were usually better behaved too. The dog stood and
wagged its tail. Concrete dust billowed in the air from the sweep
of the friendly wag. She saw the leash attached to the collar, the
other end buried in the mass of bricks and broken glass.

“Oh, you poor thing. Are you trapped?” The
dog whined and lay down, panting hard. Christine reached in her
pocket for the bottle of water, cupped one hand and poured,
offering it to the dog, which lapped eagerly. She poured more, and
kept pouring until the dog stopped drinking and stretched to lick
her face. It turned and pawed at the bricks.