Alan Eppes moved cautiously back into his house, his eyes surveying the damage from the latest earthquake. It had struck so suddenly that he had barely had any time to escape to his front yard.
The quake had lasted all of a minute, a minute and a half, but it had seemed to go on forever. Living in California, Alan had grown accustomed to the constant tremors and quakes that struck, but every once in a great while he would encounter one that even unsettled him.
Pictures and mementos littered the floor. Several chairs were overturned, plants and dirt had found new homes on the ground, and glass shards glittered up at him from all over. Alan sighed heavily and moved further into the house.
He righted a few chairs and picked up some of the photos as he moved towards his phone. As was his habit, he dialed first Don's cell phone, then Charlie's. Receiving a busy signal, Alan settled the phone back in its cradle. He figured he'd give the phone company a couple hours to fix the lines before trying to contact his sons again. It would take at least that long to make a dent in the mess surrounding him.
Awareness descended on Charlie, and it didn't come kindly. Pain exploded in his head and down his body, and he moaned at the slightest movement he made. A heavy weight pressed down on him, pinning him to the floor. As consciousness returned, the pain ebbed, and Charlie was able to focus a little more clearly.
His right arm was twisted painfully below him. He didn't know if he had broken it or not when the bookcase had fallen on him, but at the moment it felt as though someone had torn it in half. Charlie tried to push himself off of the floor, but the weight on his back was too heavy. Charlie settled back down and tried to gather his wits about him.
Memories of the earthquake flooded back through him. The room was still now, though how long ago it had stopped, Charlie didn't know. The last thing he remembered was Don calling his name, grabbing him, then darkness.
Don!
Charlie gave a start and tried to struggle out from whatever was pinning him to the floor. Twisting his head around, he squinted through the dim yellow light and sucked in a sharp breath.
Don was laying on top of him, out cold. Charlie couldn't see him too clearly, but what he could see scared him. Half of Don's face was bathed in blood, the odor so thick in the air that it nearly gagged Charlie.
Shoving some books and other debris aside, Charlie carefully slid out from beneath his brother and turned him over. He cradled Don's head in his lap, blinking the dust out of his eyes so he could take a closer look at his brother.
An ugly gash had split open somewhere on Don's head. Blood had spilled freely, completely covering Don's head and half of his face. Charlie awkwardly tried to mop some of it up with his T-shirt, his heart pounding in his chest. With trembling fingers, he took Don's pulse and found it to be slow and faint.
"Don," Charlie whispered. "Don! Can you hear me? Don!"
Don didn't move; didn't stir. Charlie looked around for something he could use to help Don, but came up empty.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie tried to view his options. He couldn't move Don; even if both arms were uninjured, and he could risk moving his brother, Charlie doubted he would be able to carry Don's weight. The door to the storage room was now completely blocked by what used to be several support beams that Charlie now saw had fallen right on top of him and Don.
A feeling of hopelessness began to swell in Charlie's stomach, and he fought it back down. Don was depending on him. Don had protected him, and now it was his turn to protect Don. He couldn't let Don down.
Gently settling Don back onto the ground in what he hoped was a more comfortable position, Charlie stood on shaky legs and took a few tentative steps towards the door. The beams made it difficult, but Charlie was able to maneuver his way around them.
The closest he was able to get to the door was still several feet away. At this angle, Charlie could see that not only were support beams lying in the way, but a bookcase and several books as well. With another glance at his big brother's deathly still form, Charlie gritted his teeth against the pain and began to toss some of the lighter debris away from their only means of escape.
The sound of the phone ringing jolted Alan out of the recesses of his mind where he had retreated as he worked to straighten the house. Glancing at the clock, he was surprised to find that three hours had passed since the earthquake. Figuring that the caller was one of his boys, he crossed the living room and lifted the receiver. "Hello?"
The sound of his friend's voice quashed the hope that was rising in his heart. "Oh, hello Art. No, everything's fine over here. I'm just cleaning up. How about you? . . . . . . . No, I haven't seen the news . . . . . a seven, huh? . . . . . . No, I haven't heard from them, but now that the lines are up, I'll be trying them again. Yeah, you too, Art. Bye."
Alan hung up and hurriedly dialed Charlie's office number. Finding the signal busy, he tried Charlie's cell phone, but it had been switched off. Suppressing mild irritation at his youngest, Alan dialed Don's cell.
"The cellular customer you are trying to reach-."
Alan severed the connection sharply, frowning with concern. He wasn't terribly worried; his sons were grown and able to look after themselves. However, they knew it gave Alan peace of mind to let him know that they were all right.
Rather than resume his cleaning, Alan moved to the television and switched it to the local news station for some more information on the quake.
News crews had already descended on the city like vultures, videotaping any sign of chaos they could find. Other than reporting the scale of destruction, nothing else was of interest to Alan. Alan was about to shut the set off when the screen suddenly showed an image of CalSci. He froze, holding his breath.
" . . . what you're seeing is the result of the earthquake that struck the greater Los Angeles area this afternoon," the reporter was saying. "Devastation struck all over the city, including here in this small, tight-knit community at CalSci. The force of the earthquake has shaken the foundation of a couple of the buildings loose, causing severe structural damage. So far, no casualties have been reported, and rescue teams are combing the scene looking for survivors. Stay tuned and we'll bring you more as it develops . . ."
Alan felt as if his entire world had dropped away from him. The camera had swung away from the news reporter and was zooming in on a shot of the math building, where he knew his sons had last been seen.
Only now, the building looked as though half of it had collapsed in on itself.
"Oh my God . . "
