Chapter 41 Frannie
God, I don’t want to die.
Gritty water filled Frannie’s mouth. Her shoulder hit something hard. Panic surged in her chest as she held her breath.
God, please help me!
She tried to swim, but the water was coming at her from every direction. Her lungs burned. She gulped air and went under again. She floundered, then her feet scraped on rocks. Relief shot through her. But where was the shore? Her eyes could be closed, it was so black, or maybe she was blind.
God, I don’t want to be blind.
She pushed herself to standing, but her knees buckled and she was crawling.
Her heart knocked in her chest, pain making its way to her panicked brain now that she wasn’t fighting for breath.
Her hands hurt and her feet felt like they’d been cut with knives.
Her fingers sunk into mud, the water now only inches deep.
She felt rocks, and then grass. She let herself collapse on dry ground.
She was alive. It was over. Please, God, let it be over.
She strained to see. She wasn’t blind, but it was so dark. The air was murky and thick with the scents of mud and pine and gasoline. Where was Paul? Claire and Jenny and Beth, what had happened to them? Jerrylynn and Vicky and all the campers?
Slowly, she became aware of voices around her. A man calling, “Verona!” Far-off, a woman crying out, “Help us!”
She shivered in the cold night air. Would someone come and find her?
Minutes went by. No one called her name. She moved her legs and then her arms. She pushed herself up to her hands and knees. She stood. The world spun a little, but she was standing. She wasn’t dead.
“Miss?” A man’s voice in the dark. “Miss, can you walk?”
“I think . . . so.” Her voice was hoarse, and her mouth didn’t work right. She took a step. Her feet sank into wet mud. “What happened?”
Before he could answer, it started again. The shaking. “No,” she whispered. Not again, please. She clutched at the stranger.
“It’s an aftershock,” he said, releasing her when the world stopped trembling. “Get to higher ground. I’ve got to find my wife.”
“Don’t leave me.” The words came out in a hoarse croak, but the man—whoever he was—was already gone, calling, “Verona!” into the dark.
A coyote howled not far away and her wet skin prickled with goose bumps.
She sat down and pulled her knees to her chest, curling up with despair and fear.
She pushed her face into her knees. She would close her eyes and count to ten, then she’d wake up and find out this had all been a terrible nightmare.
She counted to ten. Lifted her head and opened her eyes.
It wasn’t a dream. It was a dark and horrible reality.
Where were Claire and Jenny and Beth? She tried to remember.
She’d been looking at the trailer when the earthquake started.
And Paul. He was right beside her. Vicky and Jerrylynn were asleep in the tent.
She tried to get her bearings, but nothing looked familiar.
Then she realized she could see. The moon was back.
Not full and bright as it had been, but weak and shrouded.
She saw trees thrown like pick-up sticks, and a picnic table sticking out of a muddy bank.
Trailers and upside-down cars lay in a jumbled pile.
She saw pale forms of people, walking and stumbling, and—where were their clothes?
She looked down at herself and gasped. She wore only her brassiere and her underwear.
Her skin was scraped and muddy. She dimly remembered the wind pulling at her pajamas, the water hitting her and tumbling her like a rag doll.
Water. Get to higher ground.
She made herself stand up and walk, her brain as slow moving as her body.
She saw lights. Headlights. Was it the ridge that had divided the campground?
She went toward the lights, climbing up the slope to an overturned car.
She sat down beside it. She could hear voices crying out for help, calling names.
Nobody was calling for her. Where were her friends? Her sister? Was she the only one left?
A bubble of hysteria rose in her throat.
She wanted to run away. She wanted to cry her eyes out. Mostly, she wanted someone—Claire or Bridget or even Dad—to save her from this nightmare, to tell her that everything was going to be okay.
Somebody, please, come and take care of me.