Chapter Three
The soul survivors were hurriedly ushered into the airport; people stared at them, some were aware of the chaos that was happening outside and some were not. However, everyone was aware of the three pale teenagers who were being led by a security guard.
The guard led them into a back room; chairs were pushed against the wall, the room was all white.
Annabel collapsed into one of chairs and wouldn't look at the other two. Sara sat across the room and began to cry again, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders rocking. Randy sat beside his sister, still numb to the fact that his girlfriend was dead.
Sara peered up from her moist hands, her eyes red and her face tear streaked. "Are there any survivors?" She asked Annabel, her voice shaking.
"How should I know?" Annabel answered, her voice shaking just as much as Sara's was.
The three sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts, heads bowed.
Suddenly the door opened; everyone's head jerked upward and turned toward the opened door. A man dressed in an official looking suit entered the room, flanked by two security guards and a woman dressed as a flight attendant.
"Hello, my name is Joseph Martin, I manage the airport. I know how you all must be feeling right now, but we need to gather any information about this 'incident' that we can. But first, does anyone need any medical care?" The man in the suit asked, looking at the three teenagers.
They stared numbly at him, not bothering to answer his question. "All right then, we'll begin the questioning. First, let me get your names." Martin said, taking out a clipboard.
They numbly said their names: Annabel Tomas, Randy Tomas and Sara Addison. "Okay, great, first I'd like to have Miss. Annabel." Martin said and turned to a fresh sheet of paper on the clipboard.
Annabel stood to her feet and walked over to Martin. "If you'll come this way please." The man said and ushered Annabel away from the others. He shut the door, leaving the other three he had entered with to stay with Randy and Sara.
"All right Annabel, how old are you?" Martin asked. They had gone into another, smaller room then the one that they had been in before.
"Fourteen."
"Now, I believe that you reacted to the 'tragedy' before it happened. Why?"
"I saw it happen, I knew it was going to happen."
"Explain."
"I saw it, I saw everything. I saw the car stall under the overhang; I saw the overhang break. I saw Sara and her mother get killed, I saw her! I saw Cassie die and I saw the engine explode. I saw the other cars get crushed by the stones; I saw it all."
"Now, Annabel, I know you had nothing to do with this but it all sounds pretty far-fetched, if you think about it."
"You can't think that I had anything to do with this! I tried to tell them but they wouldn't listen and now Cassie and Mrs. Addison are dead. Not to mention those other people."
Those faceless people, Annabel thought, and those that are not so faceless.
"Annabel, I know you didn't have anything to do with this. Annabel, do you take any drugs, or drink?"
"No! I'm not stoned or wasted or crazy or whatever the hell you think I am! I don't know why I saw what I did all right. I don't know why."
Martin and Annabel returned to the larger room and then it was Sara's turn for questioning. Martin led Sara into the same small room and sat down.
"Sara, how old are you?"
"Fourteen."
"Why did you get out of the car?"
"I wanted to make sure Annabel was okay."
"Did you believe what she said about the overhang?"
"No."
"Then why did you get out of the car?"
"I told you already, I wanted to make sure she was okay."
"Do you think Annabel is crazy?"
"No. I think she is very sane, very sane."
Martin returned Sara, who sat next to her friend instead of away from her. Sara began to cry again and Annabel comforted her while Martin took Randy away for questioning.
"Randy, how old are you?"
"Fifteen."
"Why did you get out of car?"
"My sister was upset, she was hysterical. She told us to get out of the car. I told Cassie to stay in the car; it's my fault she's dead. I told her to stay in the car."
Half an hour after the questioning, the three were still in the large room. They all sat together now, as though the questioning had made them realize that Annabel wasn't the cause of the collapsing overhang.
Annabel clung to her brother, seeming a lot younger then she was; she was like a five-year-old child. "I want Mom." Annabel whispered to Randy.
Sara had stopped crying and was now sitting numbly, letting everything really sink in.
Soon, Martin came back with hot coffee and chocolate. "I thought you might like this." He said and offered the drinks to the three. The drinks sat untouched on the table in front of them.
"I have phoned your parents, they should be here soon. Is there anything I can do for you?" Martin asked.
The survivors shook their heads and Martin once again left them to their thoughts.
Within the hour, Randy and Annabel's parents showed up and Sara's father showed up as well. The door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Tomas rushed in. Annabel ran to her mother and embraced her; she felt closer to her mother, realizing that it could have been her own mother that could have died and not Sara's. Sara ran to her father and began to cry again; her father held his daughter close and tried to sooth her.
After talking a few minutes with Martin, Annabel and her family were able to leave, as were Sara and her father.
The drive home to Annabel's house was quite, no one said a word; no one really knew what to say.
The soul survivors were hurriedly ushered into the airport; people stared at them, some were aware of the chaos that was happening outside and some were not. However, everyone was aware of the three pale teenagers who were being led by a security guard.
The guard led them into a back room; chairs were pushed against the wall, the room was all white.
Annabel collapsed into one of chairs and wouldn't look at the other two. Sara sat across the room and began to cry again, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders rocking. Randy sat beside his sister, still numb to the fact that his girlfriend was dead.
Sara peered up from her moist hands, her eyes red and her face tear streaked. "Are there any survivors?" She asked Annabel, her voice shaking.
"How should I know?" Annabel answered, her voice shaking just as much as Sara's was.
The three sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts, heads bowed.
Suddenly the door opened; everyone's head jerked upward and turned toward the opened door. A man dressed in an official looking suit entered the room, flanked by two security guards and a woman dressed as a flight attendant.
"Hello, my name is Joseph Martin, I manage the airport. I know how you all must be feeling right now, but we need to gather any information about this 'incident' that we can. But first, does anyone need any medical care?" The man in the suit asked, looking at the three teenagers.
They stared numbly at him, not bothering to answer his question. "All right then, we'll begin the questioning. First, let me get your names." Martin said, taking out a clipboard.
They numbly said their names: Annabel Tomas, Randy Tomas and Sara Addison. "Okay, great, first I'd like to have Miss. Annabel." Martin said and turned to a fresh sheet of paper on the clipboard.
Annabel stood to her feet and walked over to Martin. "If you'll come this way please." The man said and ushered Annabel away from the others. He shut the door, leaving the other three he had entered with to stay with Randy and Sara.
"All right Annabel, how old are you?" Martin asked. They had gone into another, smaller room then the one that they had been in before.
"Fourteen."
"Now, I believe that you reacted to the 'tragedy' before it happened. Why?"
"I saw it happen, I knew it was going to happen."
"Explain."
"I saw it, I saw everything. I saw the car stall under the overhang; I saw the overhang break. I saw Sara and her mother get killed, I saw her! I saw Cassie die and I saw the engine explode. I saw the other cars get crushed by the stones; I saw it all."
"Now, Annabel, I know you had nothing to do with this but it all sounds pretty far-fetched, if you think about it."
"You can't think that I had anything to do with this! I tried to tell them but they wouldn't listen and now Cassie and Mrs. Addison are dead. Not to mention those other people."
Those faceless people, Annabel thought, and those that are not so faceless.
"Annabel, I know you didn't have anything to do with this. Annabel, do you take any drugs, or drink?"
"No! I'm not stoned or wasted or crazy or whatever the hell you think I am! I don't know why I saw what I did all right. I don't know why."
Martin and Annabel returned to the larger room and then it was Sara's turn for questioning. Martin led Sara into the same small room and sat down.
"Sara, how old are you?"
"Fourteen."
"Why did you get out of the car?"
"I wanted to make sure Annabel was okay."
"Did you believe what she said about the overhang?"
"No."
"Then why did you get out of the car?"
"I told you already, I wanted to make sure she was okay."
"Do you think Annabel is crazy?"
"No. I think she is very sane, very sane."
Martin returned Sara, who sat next to her friend instead of away from her. Sara began to cry again and Annabel comforted her while Martin took Randy away for questioning.
"Randy, how old are you?"
"Fifteen."
"Why did you get out of car?"
"My sister was upset, she was hysterical. She told us to get out of the car. I told Cassie to stay in the car; it's my fault she's dead. I told her to stay in the car."
Half an hour after the questioning, the three were still in the large room. They all sat together now, as though the questioning had made them realize that Annabel wasn't the cause of the collapsing overhang.
Annabel clung to her brother, seeming a lot younger then she was; she was like a five-year-old child. "I want Mom." Annabel whispered to Randy.
Sara had stopped crying and was now sitting numbly, letting everything really sink in.
Soon, Martin came back with hot coffee and chocolate. "I thought you might like this." He said and offered the drinks to the three. The drinks sat untouched on the table in front of them.
"I have phoned your parents, they should be here soon. Is there anything I can do for you?" Martin asked.
The survivors shook their heads and Martin once again left them to their thoughts.
Within the hour, Randy and Annabel's parents showed up and Sara's father showed up as well. The door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Tomas rushed in. Annabel ran to her mother and embraced her; she felt closer to her mother, realizing that it could have been her own mother that could have died and not Sara's. Sara ran to her father and began to cry again; her father held his daughter close and tried to sooth her.
After talking a few minutes with Martin, Annabel and her family were able to leave, as were Sara and her father.
The drive home to Annabel's house was quite, no one said a word; no one really knew what to say.
