Arrival: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

7

When Maya finished wrapping the bandage around the cyclist’s knee, she stood and removed the latex gloves from her hands. The cops stood around, smoking and watching Maya work.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to give you a ride to the ER, Mr. Thompson? Even though you were wearing a helmet, you could still have suffered a concussion.”

“I’m fine,” the man said as he pushed himself up off the ground. He patted down the front of his yellow and black cyclist’s shirt and short black shorts. “This might shock you, but it’s not the first time I’ve been hit by a car.”

“You should try being a little more careful then.”

Nathan grinned. “It’s all part of the thrill. Trust me, I’m more concerned about my bike. That thing wasn’t cheap.”

Once again, Maya and Reno had been called in because a tourist hadn’t been paying attention and had turned without seeing a cyclist crossing the street. The vehicle had plowed into the bike. Fortunately, the driver had turned while going only a few miles per hour. Still, it had been enough to flip Nathan Thompson over the hood and then onto the pavement. He’d been lucky to get away with only minor cuts and bruises—no broken bones. But possible concussions always concerned Maya.

“Well, I’m sure insurance will help out with your bike,” she said.

“Tourists don’t pay attention in the city.”

“That’s why you have to. Now, are you sure you don’t want to see a doc, real quick?”

“I’m good. Thanks for your help.”

Maya picked up her bag and headed back to the rig. She shut the door and turned to an approaching Reno.

“How’s the driver?”

“His kids are shaken up, but he and his wife are fine. He feels really bad for hitting that guy.”

“At least everyone is okay.”

“How’s our friend on the bike?”

“He’s more worried about the bike than he is himself.”

“I would be, too. Those wheels probably set him back three grand.”

“Well, either way, he wasn’t interested in heading to the ER and getting checked out. If everyone is all right, then I guess we can go.”

The police had stepped in, and now the conversation had shifted from injury to insurance. Maya and Reno had buckled up and were sitting behind a truck, waiting to pull back into traffic when the rig vibrated as the ground beneath it shook. People walking the sidewalks stopped and looked around.

The ground shook again, this time dislodging mortar from nearby buildings, which rained down in a gritty mist. People scattered in every direction, unsure whether to run into or from the buildings. Some ran into the street, not even paying attention to the traffic.

“Look out!” Reno shouted.

Maya’s eyes went wide as the truck driver in front of her threw it into reverse suddenly—the asphalt rippling and the road pulling apart.

The shaking intensified—power lines vibrating like loose rubber bands. Maya unbuckled her seatbelt. The two paramedics hopped out of the rig as cars on the street collided. Without thinking, they ran toward the closest office building.

Time shifted into slow motion for Maya as she spun, watching the chaos explode as people fled the surrounding buildings. Some people fell to the ground, covering their heads and screaming. Others ran aimlessly. The ground continued to shake.

“Maya!”

She blinked as Reno grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Earthquake! We have to get people away from the buildings.”

An earthquake? Impossible.

“Maya! Now!”

Maya blinked again and reality kicked back into full-speed. She waved her arms at people on the sidewalk.

“Come here! To the middle of the street!”

Some listened while others ran without knowing where they were headed, or why.

Booming thunder filled the sky then, followed by a chorus of screams.

“My God.” Maya said.

Smoke billowed out of the ground. The sidewalk erupted, throwing concrete and people into the air. Fissures opened, swallowing anyone who hadn’t run or jumped out of the way.

For the first time in Maya’s career as a paramedic, she didn’t know what to do. She stood next to Reno as the shaking continued.

Another explosion shook the buildings, drawing a collective gasp from the people nearby. The steeple atop the Christ Church Cathedral tilted forward and then fell to the ground. A bystander dove out of the way of its path, the stone cross barely missing him and exploding on impact. The old church sat a foot off the sidewalk, the bricks from the steeple now landing in the middle of the street.

“It’s coming down!”

The roof of the church that had stood for over a century collapsed in upon itself while Maya watched, her mouth open and unable to form any words.

In the street, people ran in all directions, trying to get clear of the building that was coming crashing down upon the street. But not everyone could outrun the destruction. The hunks of stone crushed at least a dozen people, dust rising from the debris and making it impossible to see past the wreckage.

Then the ground stopped shaking as sirens sounded all over the city.

“Maya.”

Reno stood next to her, holding onto her arm. His brown skin and clothes had been covered in gray dust.

“We have to start helping people,” Reno said.

Unable to take her eyes off the gaping wound where the church had been, Maya said, “There are people under there.”

Several people had already begun pulling at the debris and trying to get to the unfortunate souls who had been pinned beneath the wreckage.

“We have to help who we can,” Reno said. “There are a lot of injured people around here.”

Sure enough, people were running toward them, shouting for help. Some bled from their heads and faces while others pointed to injured people on the ground.

“All right,” Maya said to the nearest woman as she looked at Reno. “We’re going to help you.”

She hurried to the rear of the rig and flung the back doors open.

And they got to work.