The Quake

Chapter 14

Erin appreciated the silence inside of the vehicle. The ride in the dark to the RV park, while bumpy was mercifully uneventful. With no vehicles passing or house lights in the expected places, it felt like they were driving through another world. Ghosts of the noises she'd absorbed throughout the day slowly dissipated into the silence. Erin's tingling muscles melted into the leather car seat.

Too soon, the peace of the night was broken by a glow like a sunset. As they drew near, the light flickered orange and ominous. Tyler pulled the mayor's SUV into a spot between a tree and PT Cruiser. Someone had replaced the broken down chainlink fence with yellow caution tape reflecting their headlights. The tape marked out a parking area already filled with neatly spaced vehicles. He set the parking-brake, then glanced at her. "You hungry?"

"I should be," she said.

The left side of his mouth lifted, too exhausted for a whole smile. He rested his head against the seat and let out a tremendous sigh. She stared expectantly at him, but he didn't look to be moving any time soon. She noted the dusting of his dark eyelashes against his freckled cheeks. He had to be more tired than she was. While she had mostly carried herself today, he'd been moving large objects including other people. She resisted the urge to brush his hair off his face. That was too intimate for what they were to each other, no matter what they'd been through today. She adopted a teasing tone, "You going to be able to walk? Or will I be carrying you?"

"Says the girl who needed to be carried home just last night." She flinched, not expecting him to bring up last night. Earlier, before the bridge fell, she'd been about to ask him if she'd done anything to be embarrassed about last night because, as he kept reminding her, he remembered it better than she did. But right now, she felt like she'd been through enough trauma and didn't want to relive any more.

"I don't recall," she said instead.

"Of course you don't. You had like a hundred shots blocking your ability to move." He smiled sleepily at her.

Eager to escape any new revelations, she opened the car door onto the crisp night. "I think I am ready to move on now." Once she was outside the vehicle, the sense of peace she'd managed to cloak herself in on the drive over, fell off of her like a limp bath towel.

The RV park was alive with buzzing activity. Brash laughter and conversation scratched along Erin's skin, fraying her already taut nerves. Her neighbors were gathered in a tight space very loudly sharing their relief at finding other survivors of the day. She stopped abruptly after only a few steps, unwilling to move forward into the mele. It wasn't their fault that the noisy mass of humanity slapped against her like a wall.

Tyler slammed into her from behind with a grunted complaint. "Erin, why'd you stop?" he asked while clutching her shoulders to steady himself. "I didn't see you there. My eyes haven't adjusted yet."

Her vision tunneled and her limbs felt like they were underwater.

"Sorry, you probably can't see either, huh." He said, misinterpreting her silence. He curled his fingers between hers steadily. "Let's wait here until we adjust, eh." She didn't expect to adjust until she could be alone.

The car ride had given her just enough respite to acknowledge how drained she truly was. With no more adrenaline in her veins, she could no longer fight off or tamp down the sensory overload that sent her spiraling. Harsh smells of dirt, urine, and cooked meat wafted over her like a cloud choking her lungs. Metal chair legs scraping the gravel and screen doors banging against their latches ricocheted inside of her already over stimulated ears. The flickering fire light and waving flashlights burned her retinas. Too much. It was all too much. Her eyes felt stinging and dry and the urge to escape and hide somewhere quiet was debilitating.