96 Hours (6 page)

Erica managed a groan and rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Jesus,” she muttered. “This is the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever slept on.”

“At least you slept.”

“You didn’t?”

Abby shook her head.

“Not at all?”

“I just couldn’t get those images out of my head. I was too wired or something. I think a lot of people had the same problem.”

Erica looked around then, noticing how many passengers were milling about. She almost felt guilty for actually sleeping, but was distracted when the smell of bacon hit her full force. She was surprised she managed not to drool on herself, suddenly shocked by just how hungry she was.

“Oh, my god.” Abby lifted her nose up like a dog catching a scent. “Do you smell that?”

“I’m starving.”

“Me, too. Let’s beat the rush. Wanna?”

Just as the passengers had been drawn to the TV the previous night, they all gravitated toward the kitchen like water flowing downstream. Abby counted six people in the kitchen cooking eggs, bacon, and toast, pouring orange juice, arranging piles of paper plates, plastic utensils, napkins.

“Where’d they all come from?” she asked aloud.

“Who?” Erica asked, arming herself with flatware.

“Only Corinne was here a few minutes ago. These Gander people are amazing.”

Once they had food, Erica headed back to the cots. Abby looked around at the people sitting at tables.
Hmm . . . sit with strangers or follow the hot redhead?

The choice wasn’t a difficult one.

Her plate balanced on her lap, Abby filled Erica in on the trip to Walmart. “I could use some air. Want to grab the first shuttle?”

“To Walmart?”

“Yeah. Don’t you need underwear? Some clothes?”

“From
Walmart?”
Erica’s light eyebrows reached into her hairline.

Abby shrugged, took a bite of bacon. “It’s your call. Get some pants and a T-shirt from Walmart or stay in your suit for who knows how long.” She watched Erica’s face, could almost hear her internal arguments, the listing of pros and cons in her head. “I’m sure there’s a designer store around someplace. Or maybe a Victoria’s Secret.” She winked. “But who knows how long we’ll be here, how far away those stores are, if we can get to them? Do you want to risk it? Do you want to be stuck in your monkey suit—nice as it is—for days on end?”

Erica looked down at her clothes, chewing her eggs and analyzing. What if they were allowed to fly today? She could manage for another half a day or so in these clothes, couldn’t she? Shifting in her seat, she grimaced. The skirt felt like it had shrunk another size while she slept. She really wanted some clean panties and she was feeling sticky all over. Why did flying always make her want a shower? A clean shirt would go a long way in helping her feel at least a little bit better. But
Walmart?
Seriously? She would never buy clothes in one at home. Small kitchen appliances, yes. Picture frames, sure. But clothes? No. She had her reasons.

“At least come with me and take a look,” Abby suggested. “You don’t have to get anything. But just getting out into some fresh air will be good. The sun is shining. Looks like a beautiful day.”

“What does it matter to you?” The question was out before Erica could censor herself and she tried not to look chagrined that she’d said it.

Abby looked taken aback for a split second, then reverted to the same ever-present grin and gave a half-shrug. “It doesn’t. I just thought it would be good to get away from those news reports and the devastation a lot of us are feeling and focus on something else for a little while. I wondered if you thought the same thing. No biggie that you don’t.” She got up and took her empty plate to the garbage can that had been set up in a corner.

Erica had a hard time reading her. Had she hurt Abby’s feelings or had it really not mattered? She couldn’t tell, and that bothered her. The only thing she was sure of was that it suddenly felt a bit lonely without that stupid grin aimed at her—and she didn’t like it. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she took her own empty plate to the garbage. Abby was chatting with a young woman holding a baby. Erica tapped her on the shoulder.

“Fine,” she said when the blue eyes caught her and held her, damn them. “I’ll go with you.”

“Okay,” was all she said, then turned back to the woman and continued on with their conversation.

Erica stood there for a minute, then felt a bit silly, so she meandered to the TV corner, where people seemed to be congregating once again.

Chapter 5

Erica was quiet on the bus ride to Walmart. Not that she didn’t seem to be that way most of the time, but this was different. Abby studied her profile—the mole on her right cheek, the gently curved bridge of her nose, her full lips—and for some reason she wanted to know what was going on inside that head.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Erica gave a quick, staccato nod, but continued to look out the window and didn’t elaborate.

The school bus carted about twenty-five people down the roads of Gander. It was going to be another nice day, unseasonably warm according to Corinne. The sun shone brightly and if they didn’t all know what had happened at home, it would seem like any other early fall day.

“So, Roy,” she said, leaning forward in the front seat of the bus and addressing the driver; she’d introduced herself when they boarded. “You drive this bus all the time?”

Roy had salt-and-pepper hair and thick glasses. “Not this particular one, but yeah, I drive. Took the job after I retired.”

“Nice way to make a little extra cash?”

“It’s all right. Wish our employer would listen a little better. We’re actually on strike right now.”

Abby squinted at the back of his head. “On strike?”

“Yep.”

“But you’re driving now.”

“Extenuating circumstances. We put things on hold when we heard you all were coming.”

“All of you?”

“Yep, every driver. We’ll go back to strikin’ after all this is over.”

Abby caught his eye in the rearview mirror and gave him what she hoped was a grateful smile. “Thanks, Roy.”

“Hey, we’re
all
Americans right now, hon.”

She sat back in her seat and tried to fathom the bottomless hearts of the Canadians she’d met so far. She had no idea how she could ever thank them enough. Next to her, Erica hadn’t moved, hadn’t changed expressions, just continued to look out the window.

Despite the relatively small number of passengers on their bus, the Walmart was busy. Six other buses sat in the parking lot, spitting out passengers from other planes. It was the first time Abby really got a taste of the immensity of the situation. Gander had nearly doubled its population. How would it not burst at the seams?

“Okay, first things first,” Abby said as she took Erica’s arm and steered her.

They wandered through baby clothes and girls’ jeans until they came to a wall of underwear. Erica wasn’t sure if the swarm of women buying panties made her feel better or more self-conscious about her situation. She stood and blinked at the display, taking in the myriad of cotton panties—so many of them in pastels—and thinking about the lacy silk ones she had tucked at home in her dresser drawer.

“Hey, these are nice.” Abby grabbed a three-pack of Hanes bikini briefs off the wall hanger. One pair of pink, one white, one light blue.

Erica snorted when she looked at the size. “I suppose I should be flattered you think my ass is that small.” A woman next to her chuckled. Erica pulled a similar pack down, but in a larger size and containing panties all with brightly colored stripes. She walked away quickly without looking at Abby.

“Okay,” Abby muttered under her breath, finding herself frighteningly turned on. “Stripes it is. Certainly nothing wrong with stripes. I’m good with stripes.” She wet her lips and trailed after Erica.

If the underwear section was busy, the ladies’ clothing section was mobbed.

Jesus, how long do these people plan on being here?
Erica wondered as a woman hurried past her loaded down with what looked to be a week’s worth of clothing. She stood there staring, not sure where to start or how, flashing back to her teenage years in a big, bad way.

Abby caught her deer-in-headlights expression and rolled her eyes. “Man, you’re such a clothes snob.”

“I am not,” Erica protested, trying to sound indignant but achieving only whiny.

“Yeah. You are. Okay, look. You don’t have to buy anything fancy and nobody at home has to know. Just get yourself something comfortable. Over here.” She headed off to the right and Erica reluctantly followed her, stopping when they got to the athletic attire. “Here. It’s nice out and all you want is to be comfortable for the next day or two or however long we’re going to be stuck here.” She handed over a pair of black Capri-length workout pants. “What about something like this? And a T-shirt or something? You’ve got the flip-flops or we could find some sneakers. Simple. Comfy. That’s all we’re talking about here, you know? It’s up to you. Whatever you want to do.”

Abby picked a couple of things off the rack for herself, her back to Erica in an almost dismissive manner; and for the first time in a very long time, Erica was embarrassed by her own behavior. Mentally taking a step back and analyzing the past ten minutes caused her to close her eyes and shake her head, to pull herself together. Moving closer to the clothing, she scanned the sizes and colors.

By the time they were seated again on the bus, they each had a good-sized bag filled with clothes that should get them through the next two or three days, if necessary. Both women hoped it wouldn’t be that long, but of course, nobody knew for sure. The ride back to the Lions Club was quiet, Abby at the window this time, gazing out at the passing landscape. Erica tried to think of a conversation starter, but failed and opted for silence.

The Lions Club was abuzz upon their return, people excited for the next shuttle. Erica had to consciously keep from rolling her eyes over how easily entertained they’d all become after twenty-four hours stuck in one place. A bus ride to Walmart was going to be the highlight of the day for the majority.

Corinne was off to the side, talking with two men Abby vaguely recognized from the airport, though she had no idea where they’d been on the plane. When she glanced their way, Corinne smiled and gestured for Abby to join them. “Put your stuff down and come see me,” she instructed. “Bring Erica too.” Abby glanced at Erica and shrugged.

Corinne introduced the two men as Brian Caldwell and Michael Carr. Brian was around thirty with sandy hair and sad green eyes. He wore a Green Bay Packers baseball hat, jeans, and green sweatshirt. Light stubble decorated most of his face. Michael was in his fifties and dressed in a business suit, albeit a wrinkled one. His salt-and-pepper hair was slightly disheveled and he had dark circles under his brown eyes. His handshake was firm and his British accent charming as he shook hands with each woman.

“Okay,” Corinne said in a somewhat hushed tone, which made Erica furrow her brow and Abby look around in confusion. “My husband Tim and I live alone in a rather roomy house. I don’t know how long you poor people are going to be stuck, but we talked last night and we have room for four of you, if you’d like to get out of here.”

The four of them blinked at her, not quite registering the offer.

“We’ve got two empty bedrooms upstairs,” she went on, “and a sort of bedroom rec room in the basement with its own bath.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Abby asked, a wary tone in her voice.

“Showers and beds. I’m offering showers and beds.”

“For us,” Brian clarified.

“I only have room for four and I’ve spoken to the four of you the most.” She lowered her voice to a near-whisper. “But I need you to keep it kind of hush-hush because I really can’t take everybody, though I wish I could.” She looked genuinely saddened by this fact.

“You are the kindest woman I have ever met,” Abby said with a grin, and meant it.

“Oh, I’m sure others are offering the same thing.” She waved them off to get their belongings, telling them she’d let them know when Tim arrived to take them home.

“A real bed,” Abby said quietly. “Maybe I’ll actually get to sleep tonight.”

“I was hoping we’d be out of here today. I want to go home.”

Abby made a face. “We all do. But I think it’s going to be another day or two. Have you checked out the TV reports at all? Things at home are a mess.” They glanced over at the three dozen or more people who’d crowded around the televisions watching the coverage. “I still can’t believe it. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be nearby and actually see it happening. The TV coverage is horrific enough, but to actually be there? To witness up close the towers coming down? The people jumping out the windows? My god. I can’t believe somebody did this.” She swallowed hard.

“I can,” Erica said almost matter-of-factly as she sorted through her stuff. “I’m not surprised.”

Abby stopped in midaction and stared at her in disbelief. “You’re not surprised?”

Erica shook her head. “No. I’m not.”

Abby studied her for several seconds before she issued a dismissive scoff and continued getting her things together. “Well, I am. Are you saying we deserved this? As Americans?”

“Of course not. That’s not what I said. Nobody deserves this. I said I’m not surprised it happened, that’s all.”

“Seriously, Erica, it must suck to have so little faith in humanity. Wow.” She noticed Corinne’s subtle little wave and was relieved to have a reason to end the conversation. “Tim must be here.” She shouldered her backpack, scooped up her Walmart bag, and headed toward the lobby without waiting.

“Damn,” Erica muttered. Speaking her mind didn’t often win her friends and admirers, but she’d learned to live with it. She told herself that Abby’s dismissal meant nothing to her, that it didn’t sting at all. Of course, she knew she was lying—and that bugged her even more.

Chapter 6