Family Pieces (38 page)

“This is my building! Damn it, let me through!” Just then a thunderous boom resonated and glass shattered down, hitting the sidewalk.

“Oh my God!” She stumbled backwards, shielding herself from the falling glass with her arms. Karsen dropped her phone as she caught Addy from behind.

“You need to move back.” The officer reiterated, his arms spread-eagle forcing them farther from the scene. Karsen swept down to grab her phone before it was trampled on. As she rose up again, her unstable body lurched forward and she grabbed Addy to steady herself. Both women stood shell-shocked in the moment. Not knowing what to do next, they turned back helplessly to their phones.

Addison called every office line she could think of to no avail. Karsen frantically dialed Brad’s number. Please answer. He’s out. He’s fine. She consoled herself. If she wouldn’t have ran off, he wouldn’t have come. This was her fault. The phone rang but Brad did not answer.

Unable to connect with Marjorie or Brad, both Karsen and Addison watched as people poured out of the building.
Thirty-seven floors to come down.
Addison, thought, knowing her floor would be one of the last to evacuate. She shivered although she didn’t feel the cold. She felt numb, deadened, anesthetized. She watched, a helpless bystander, as her associates, her building, her world teetered on the verge of destruction. There was nothing she could do but watch and wait.

Firemen entered and exited the building working diligently with utter disregard for their own safety. Flames danced in a wondrous flurry of devastation seemingly engulfing each and every floor from the thirtieth floor upward. Karsen watched as Addison stood in shock. She dug down in the pit of her being and drew an unusual strength from within.

“Everyone is going to be okay,” she looked Addison in the face to reassure her, while trying to do the same for herself. They stood hand in hand, eyes fixated on the doorway. Addison felt some relief as she recognized several of her employees exit. Not Marjorie. Not Jacob. Where were they?

Inside, Marjorie and Hanna inched slowly down the steps. Some pushed past rudely fearing for their own lives. Others coughed and panted as their bodies overexerted themselves to exhaustion. Hanna checked her watch. Thirty minutes and by her estimation they had only descended ten stories. The unknown horrified her. Where was the fire? How long could they inhale smoke? Had they found Adie? Had they even started down?

Too worn-out to continue, an elderly woman sat on a step against the wall burying her face in her hands. Her hair was a shimmery-silver and the wrinkles in her face told stories of their own. “You’ve got to keep moving.” Marjorie placed her hand on her shoulder.

“I can’t.”

“You must. Come on. We’ll help you. You can do this.”

Hanna and Marjorie each reached under one of the woman’s arms and pulled her up. They continued down, one step at a time, burdened by the extra weight. Neither of them cared. Even if they made it out, they wouldn’t be able to look in the mirror if they left her behind.

Finally, overcome by smoke and exhaustion, the three stumbled out from the building’s entrance and onto the sidewalk. Hanna and Marjorie transferred the elderly woman to paramedics waiting past the door as they hurriedly fled further from harm’s way themselves. Karsen spotted Hanna and scanned the door for Brad. He wasn’t there.

“Hanna!” Karsen screamed. Addison’s body shuddered with relief as she recognized Marjorie. Both Addison and Karsen darted through a gap in the crowd and made their way toward them. Addison embraced Marjorie and Karsen did the same to Hanna. She squeezed her into a bear hug and wouldn’t let go.

“Where’s Brad?” Karsen asked.

“He stayed behind,” Hanna said clearly worried.

“Adie,” Marjorie choked. “They can’t find Adelaide.”

“She wandered off before the fire. They couldn’t find her and Emily wouldn’t leave. Brad stayed to help. He wouldn’t let her stay alone,” Hanna added.

“What?” Addison asked in agonized disbelief. A lump swelled in her throat as she swallowed. She had forgotten Emily’s play date. She felt the ground shift beneath her. Only it wasn’t the ground, but her knees collapsing underneath. She sank to the sidewalk. She did not know what started the fire but she couldn’t help but feel responsible. She should have been there. She should have responded to Karsen’s first request to meet. Maybe then, just maybe, none of this would be happening. Adelaide, that beautiful innocent child would be safe. Emily would be safe. Brad would be safe.
Oh God, this is my fault
.

“It’ll be okay,” Karsen bent down to hug Addison and help her to her feet. “Brad won’t let anything happen. I promise you.”

“We have to go,” Brad pleaded with Emily. “She’s not here. We’ve looked everywhere.” There was no way to estimate how much time they had left, but he knew they had to get out immediately. The air was thick with spongy, gray smoke. Sweat seeped down his brow and he covered his nose and mouth with his shirt. Emily fought desperately.

“Adie!” her voice cracked, strained from overuse and hoarse from breathing in polluted air. Brad pulled her toward him as a loud crack sapped from above them. A devising wall fell, crushing Marjorie’s desk. Ceiling tiles crumbled down around them from the impact. Brad embraced Emily to shield her.

Distraught and exhausted, she fell to the floor. She curled into a fetal position and sobbed.

He reached his arm around Emily’s back and curled the other under her knees. He picked her up like a father would a sleeping child. Brad carried her into the hallway and to the stairs against her will. She wailed, flailing her arms and kicking her feet, but he wouldn’t stop. She didn’t have the strength to break free or she’d never leave. She’d sacrifice her life before ever giving up on her daughter.

The stairwell no longer held the mass of people as it had before. The well was dead silent with only the occasional cracks from the building as it shifted under the flames. Brad hacked as he struggled for air. Even with his seasoned runner lungs, his body craved oxygen due to the extra exertion. He moved swiftly, but with every snap he feared they’d left too late. He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake by not forcing Emily to leave earlier.
I’m sorry, Hanna,
he thought, tormented by the idea that he may not see her again.

Brad continued down several flights of stairs. He carried Emily until his arms were weak. “You have to walk.” He moaned setting her down onto her own unstable feet. She started running up the steps. “No!” He grabbed her ankle. Her body slammed down against the cement steps.

“Adie!” she whimpered. He pulled her down. She turned toward him. His brave face looked beaten, frightened even. They stared at each other.

“I know you don’t want to give up, but you’re no use to her dead. We looked everywhere, Emily. She has to be down already.”

He squeezed her hand tight. White streaks striped her face from eye to chin where tears dripped down through the soot. She nodded blankly and he helped her to her feet. Together they began their descent again.

A fireman trudged past, stopping them. “Here.” He handed his oxygen mask to Emily. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs. “We thought everyone was out.”

“We were looking for a little girl. She’s only two,” Brad explained, wheezing. Emily held the oxygen mask to Brad. He took a drag from the mask then handed it back to the fireman.

“Keep it.” The fireman unstrapped the tank from his back. “I’ll take one last look around for the girl. What’s her name?”

“Adelaide,” Brad answered.

“Get down as fast as possible. I’m not sure how contained the fire is. It could still spread.” He pushed past before Brad could respond.

They trudged on for what seemed like hours, the repetitive motion and downward impact piercing Brad’s knees with pain. He winced with each step. They couldn’t afford to stop. Brad took an intermittent breath from the oxygen tank, allowing Emily to breathe with it freely. He held tight to her hand to make sure she couldn’t turn back.

Brad had lost count of floors somewhere around floor nineteen. He knew they were drawing close to the bottom, but wasn’t sure exactly how many more flights were ahead of them. With each floor the air grew thicker with ash. Brad’s lungs wheezed. He felt lightheaded.

“Look!” Through watery eyes he saw the first glimpse of daylight creep through the open doorway. His voice came out a mere whisper. “We made it!” He still held Emily’s hand. He could feel her hesitation knowing that leaving the building may also mean facing life without her child. Bewildered and exhausted, Brad’s oxygen-depleted body collapsed as they crossed the threshold.

Emily barely inhaled her first breath of fresh air before she saw Addison sprinting toward her. She sobbed as Addison threw her arms around her neck and pulled her in. At the same time, Karsen dropped to her knees beside Brad. She placed both hands on his face and lifted his head.

“Brad!” Hanna kneeled at his other side, as Emily and Addison huddled overhead.

“Brad! Don’t you dare leave me!” Karsen cried.

“Please, Brad! Wake up!” Hanna begged. “Please!” She held his hand to her heart desperate to feel him grip her hand, which felt like dead weight within hers.

Two paramedics launched through the crowd. A male medic dressed in a dark blue uniform grabbed Hanna’s arm and pulled her up, taking her place beside Brad.

“Move aside, please,” he directed Karsen without looking up. He began working diligently. Karsen staggered slowly back and walked around Brad’s body to Hanna. They wrapped their arms around one another as they watched, filled with despair.

Several yards away, another medic placed his hand on Addison’s back. “We need to check her vitals,” he advised, referring to Emily.