Chapter Seventeen

Beth went up to a man in jeans and a thick, flannel jacket. “Sir, my boyfriend is trapped in this hotel. Can you help me get him out?”

The man shook Beth off as if she were a bug. “I’m trying to get home.”

She watched him storm away, leaving a gap in the flood of earthquake survivors. She approached other men, begging them for help. Every one of them dismissed her by lifting their hands to show they couldn’t offer help or with a mere shake of the head before rushing away. “Please,” she shouted at the current of people flowing past the hotel. “I need help. My boyfriend’s trapped behind rubble in here.” People glanced at her but didn’t so much as give her eye contact.

She took her cell phone out of her back pocket, wanting to call for help, any help, but the screen was cracked in half. Praying it wasn’t damaged beyond use, she tried to turn it on, but the screen stayed black. Her heart sank to her feet. She tossed the useless device to the ground and looked left and right, hoping to find a police officer, but only saw frightened people.

With the goal of finding a first responder, she walked down Powell Street. Not knowing the area, she didn’t know where to look for the closest fire station. She was alone in a city she’d never visited before, a city falling apart at the seams.

Although San Franciscans were used to quakes, it became obvious they weren’t used to ones of this magnitude. Women ran in their business suits, their nude stockings ripped up to their knees. She figured they must’ve scurried out of their offices or cubicles and into the streets, desperate to get to their loved ones. Their meticulous hair-dos fell down their necks, the panic in their eyes as visible as a pair of glasses.

Men had abandoned their briefcases and tugged the knots loose on their ties. Sweat poured down their faces. Their shirts had giant wet spots under their arms and between their shoulder blades. Their usually shiny shoes were scuffed and dingy.

Tourists were even more frantic. Tears streamed down their cheeks. Many people wandered around with vacant expressions on their faces. Beth imagined she looked like them. She definitely didn’t look any better. Gray dust covered her from head to foot and blood dotted her arms from the glass shards that had punctured her skin. She didn’t know what to do, or how to help anyone, so she kept walking.

Glancing into shop windows, she saw racks of clothing tipped over, mannequins lying on the floor like murder victims at crime scenes, and shelves slanted on the walls, dropping the merchandise they held. On the sidewalk, glass sparkled in the sunlight and trashcans lay on their sides, spilling newspapers, to-go cups, and food wrappers.

All the skyscrapers in the distance still stood, but some shops she passed weren’t so lucky. Ceilings had caved in; walls had collapsed. A few older buildings that weren’t earthquake resistant had turned into heaps of two-by-fours, drywall, and roof shingles. She paused next to the damage and told anyone who needed help to call out. When she didn’t hear any cries, she continued on her way.

She thought about Donovan. Her chest constricted with fear and love.

Is he okay?

Did he make it out of the garage?

Should I turn back?

She lifted her eyes from the ground to find herself in a deserted area. No cars drove on the road. No pedestrians clogged the sidewalks. All the shop owners had closed, locked, and barred their businesses, and she didn’t know how she’d gotten there. Her feet had carried her without her knowledge. She couldn’t even guess how long she’d been walking.

A movement to her right caught her attention. She looked in time to see a man race across the street with a length of pipe in his hands. He cut right in front of her and swung the piece of metal into a shop window. She jumped back with a yelp. The glass broke and he leapt into the shop. He didn’t so much as glance at her.

Beth took off at a run. As she ran, she noticed several shop windows had already been smashed. A glance into an electronics store revealed two men destroying display cases to get at the laptops and cell phones. A third stuffed random merchandise from shelves into a black trash bag.

She pushed her legs to take her faster, farther. Her heart ticked frantically, her thoughts tumbled in her head. Where do I go? How do I get out of here?

A group of woman teetered out of a shop on high heels, their arms piled high with designer jeans, tops, purses, and shoes. One of them even had a fist full of thongs.

Across the way, a looter slid a wide screen TV into the trunk of a car and hopped into the passenger seat. The car sped away with loud music blaring from its speakers.

Beth eyed the intersection ahead. She needed to find her way back to Union Square—back to Donovan, but she didn’t want to head back the way she had come. She was a few feet away when a body blocked her path. Her feet skidded to a stop, and her surprised gaze fell onto the knife pointed at her chest. She raised her hands and gaped at the Hispanic man demanding money.

“I don’t have any.”

“That’s bullshit, lady. Gimme your money!”

“What do you think I have?” she shouted back. “Do you see a purse, a backpack, or a fucking fanny pack? I don’t have anything!”

He advanced, plunging the blade toward her stomach. She jumped back in fear. “Empty out your pockets. Now!”

“All right.” She slowly dipped her hands into her pockets and pulled them inside out to show she didn’t even have a gum wrapper. Lint occupied the deepest recesses of the cotton squares. “See,” she said, forcing calm. “I don’t have any money. Now let me go.”

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“I said, turn around. I want to see your back pockets.”

Beth glared at him as annoyance washed over her. I don’t have time for this. I have to get back to Donovan. She grabbed his wrist, stepped around him, and wrenched his arm behind his back, forcing his hand toward his head while twisting his wrist at an awkward angle. He let out a growl and released the blade. It clattered to the asphalt at her feet. She didn’t waste a second to peer down at it. She kicked the back of his knee with the side of her foot as hard as she could. He crumbled and she let him fall. When he was on the ground, she gathered a fistful of his dark hair and slammed his forehead into the ground, knocking him unconscious. Then she launched into an all-out sprint.

She made a right onto Market Street, hoping to find her way back to Union Square so she could dig Donovan out with her bare hands. Running down the middle of the street, she passed even more storefronts, hotels, and restaurants. They must’ve evacuated the area because no customers or workers stood outside. It was nothing like the hell of Union Square, but if the authorities evacuated this area, it was for a reason. Beth wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out what that problem was, but she refused to turn back.

A few blocks later, she saw water shooting into the air. She ran toward it. After a few strides, her sneakers slapped water. The street was flooded. Soon, it covered her feet, soaking her shoes and socks. When she got closer, she made out the length and color of two fire trucks through the thick mist. Near the heart of the geyser, she could see fire fighters and other city workers. They looked as if they were standing in the middle of Niagara Falls.

She ran toward them, hope filling her like helium. Surely, one of the trucks could go to Union Square. They could help her dig Donovan out of the rubble and help others who were hurt and trapped.

About a block away, the ground beneath her feet started to shake, causing her to trip. She hit the asphalt hard, her body rolling through the water. The shaking was nowhere near the velocity of the quake that happened earlier, but it was strong enough she couldn’t get to her feet. A crack splintered the road in front of her and snaked toward her, drinking the water flooding the road and severing the asphalt between her hands. She jumped to the side. Even though the shaking stopped, the crack continued to widen, reaching out toward her as if it wanted to swallow her. She crawled away, using her heels to push herself from its jaws.

With wide eyes, she watched the road disappear into the hungry fissure that raced toward the first responders at the water main break.

No!

She cupped her mouth with her hands and screamed with all her might. “The road is breaking!”

One of the city workers turned toward her, not sensing the immediate danger.

“The road,” she yelled. “Get out of the way!”

The worker’s head lowered. Seeing the expanding crack, he spun around. She couldn’t hear him shouting, but she could see him waving his arms above his head.

Her eyes lowered. The rift was the size of the road, plowing forward like a beast devouring everything in its path. When it reached the area the fire trucks had blocked off, a cloud of brown dust erupted into the air and everything above ground vanished—the vehicles, the light posts, the people.

Beth reached out as if she had the power to suspend the chunk of road and raise it back up, but she didn’t. The sound of rock and metal falling into the earth plunged her heart into her gut. She let out a cry. Her other hand covered her mouth in horror.

After the dust settled, all she could see was an enormous sinkhole and that damned water main feeding it large quantities of water. The city workers, the police officers, and the firefighters were gone. Crushed. Dead.

Tears clogged her eyes and throat as she rose to shaky legs and cautiously inched up the road as far as she could go. With the tips of her sneakers toeing the edge of the crack, and her hands groping the side of a building for balance, she leaned forward to look into the sinkhole. Between slabs of earth and rock, she spotted the back end of a firetruck, but she couldn’t see a single person. The water filling the crater mixed with the dirt, creating a thick mud.

Despair filled her. Her chest heaved and tears streaked down her cheeks. Why? God, why? She had been so close to them, and yet too far away to do anything but yell.

A piece of asphalt crumbled at her feet. Not wanting to tumble into the muddy pit, she backed carefully away, placing one foot at a time behind her, her hands never once leaving the side of the building. The moment there was enough room for her to turn, she pressed her back to the wall, shifted her feet, and launched forward, wanting to get as far away as possible.