“I know,” Foster said. “But I don’t know where to take you. Whatever it was that happened, it happened all over or at least in New York. So… bear with us and we’ll figure something out.”
It took Foster a good hour to get everyone seated on the curb in lawn chairs and chairs he brought from houses.
Abby pretty much did nothing.
Foster tried to ignore that and kept moving. He gave Abby a pan of water and told her to start at one end of the line of people while he worked from the other end.
Foster wiped off faces, gave calming squeezes to hands and reassurance as best as he could.
Abby had helped only three people.
There was an older woman, at least to Foster she was old. She was maybe sixty years old. Her makeup was smeared; her reddish gray hair was all over the place. It appeared that she probably was all dolled up the day before. However, unlike the others she wasn’t crying. When Foster arrived at her side, he said, “Thank you for your patience.”
She grabbed his hand and said, “Thank you for your kindness. You sound young.”
“I am. I’m sixteen.”
“This is such a grown up thing for you to be doing.”
“I’m trying ma’am.” He wiped her face. “I’m glad you can hear me.”
“How many are out here?”
“I counted forty.”
“Oh, so five are unaccounted for,” she said. “My name is Judith. What is yours?”
“Foster.”
“Foster. Is that your given name or last name?”
“Nickname.” Foster smiled. “My real name is James.”
“Oh, you are a Jimmy. I always liked that name. Honey, I was with four people from my Synagogue. I have called out to them but no one is answering.”
“Some people can’t hear.”
“Can you look for them?” Judith asked. “They’ll be wearing name tags like this.” She reached for her chest, felt around and found the tag.
“Yes. I will.” Foster finished cleaning her face. “Judith, what happened? Do you know?”
“Don’t you?”
“No. I was on the train. It crashed. We came up from the subway to find everyone dead. You people are the first people alive that we found.”
“They’ll be more. If we lived, there has to be. I think we were far enough from the explosion not to die.”
“I think that too.”
“All I know is that there were four explosions. We heard them and looked up. We thought, my God, another terror attack. But the sky lit up as if it were on fire. Flames just…. It was like the sky exploded. I dove under the bus. Not an easy task at my size.” She nodded with a smile. “Then a few moments later, I’m expecting the fire, but instead it was pressure, a lot of pressure. My head felt as if it was going to explode. My eyes…. My eyes felt as if they were coming from the sockets. And then… I passed out. When I woke, I heard everyone sounding so confused. And none of us could see.”
“So you know pretty much as much as we do,” Foster said.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.” Foster stood. “I’ll find out though. And if you guys survived, other did too. We just need to get further from the city. Maybe there’s help there, a hospital, the military, FEMA, something.”
Aimlessly her hand reached out for Foster’s face. “Thank you, Jimmy. You’re a good boy.”
Foster didn’t know how to respond; he just squeezed her hand and moved on to the next person.
Abby didn’t see the point in wiping any more faces. She felt bad that these people were injured and blind, but she wasn’t a doctor or a nurse and she was pretty certain, wiping their faces wasn’t doing a damn thing. It was Foster’s juvenile thinking that made him believe a pan of water and a couple of ibuprofen would cure all.
Abby was thirsty and she set down her pan of water and looked around to see where she could forage some water.
She wasn’t in the mood. In fact, her whole entire purpose of going with Foster was so that he could find his mother. It definitely wasn’t to help a bunch of injured people wandering the street like blind mice in a maze.
Her attitude grew worse and resentment brewed inside her.
The day before, in the subway, she was scared and a bit in shock over the accident. She actually didn’t mind helping down there. Of course Abby hadn’t expected to get out of there. Not on her own at least.
She had come to grips with the fact that she failed her suicide attempt before the train wreck. She had come to terms with the fact that she didn’t die on the train but just as she started to believe she was meant to live, they had arrived at the train station to find everyone dead.
It was a slap in the face to her by God.
Abby didn’t want to live. She wanted to die. Yet all around her again was death and she kept escaping it.
Nothing that occurred made her want to stay alive; it just made her resentful that she wasn’t lucky enough to die.
Abby spotted a convenience store a block down the street. That was her focus. A part of her was thinking about walking there and then just keeping on walking.
But then what?
Maybe find a gun and blow her brains out or return to the river and jump?
Either way she was done.
“Abby,” Foster called after her as she started to walk away.
Abby exhaled and stopped. She turned around with attitude. “Yes.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m thirsty.” She pointed up the street. “There’s a store.”
“Oh, good,” Foster said. “Good thinking. See if you can find something we can pass out to these people to hold them over.”
‘Hold them over until what?”
“Until help arrives.”
“Help isn’t coming Foster, or haven’t you noticed.”
Foster stepped back. “Why are you so angry?”
“Why are we doing this?”
“We? We? You haven’t really done much, Abby.”
“That’s because I don’t want to.”
“I’m sorry I asked.”
“Yeah, well, me, too.” Abby started walking again.
“Abby.”
She huffed and stopped. “What?”
“I’m gonna finish up here and go look for the bus. Judith says it is a couple blocks away. I’m thinking it’s probably closer.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Get them out of here and try to find help.”
“Foster, be realistic, okay? Why are you helping these people? There’s nothing you can do.”
“I can try. Abby…” He inched toward her. “Have you always been so mean and bitter?”
She stared at him for a moment. “No.” Without saying anything more, she turned and walked away.
There was no electricity, no gas, and no means of power at all. But there were lots of candles at the beach house. Frequent storms made Ben’s mother keep stocked up.
In fact his mother had stocked the house with plenty of supplies. Summer was coming. But Ben and Lana had opened the beach house early.
They went home to find more death on their street. They picked up their car at the train station, went to their home, cleaned up, gathered some belongings and decided to return to the beach house.
They’d go there for a few days, mourn their families, rest up and then figure out what to do.
They hoped that during the days they planned on spending at the beach house, answers would come.
They needed that time alone. Both of them were weak and the injuries from the crash were finally surfacing.
Lana’s leg sported a huge bruise from thigh to calf and she had her feet propped up on the railing.
Her phone was next to her and she heard the chime of the alarm.
At first she thought it was a text message, but when she lifted it, she saw the warning that her battery power was fading and she’d better recharge.