Aftershock by Jill Sorenson Page A

flexed his hands, focusing on
reality. Directly above him, a strip of smoky-blue sky peeked through the
crevice. The glimpse of the outside world bolstered his spirits further.
    Garrett understood the benefits of sunlight better than most
people. Fresh air was a precious commodity to humans in confinement. Without it,
men became monsters. He knew that from experience.
    He reached into his pack for the mirror. His movements were
clumsy from fatigue and he fumbled, almost dropping it. The fact that he was
suspended in a reclining position didn’t help. He kept his grip on the wire
hanger but leaned back too far. His helmet slipped off and tumbled through the
air before smashing on the ground.
    Fuck.
    Lauren stared at the cracked helmet in horror, as if it was his
head. Even Don appeared distressed.
    Garrett couldn’t afford to panic, and looking down made him
feel queasy, so he returned his attention to the crevice. The rebar barrier left
open spaces that were almost large enough to accommodate his hand. He slipped
the mirror past the barrier and squinted at the too-bright reflection.
    The sun was out. That was all he could see, and it was
enough.
    He didn’t want to expend too much effort looking around when
his top priority was hanging the flag. Instead of removing the mirror, he
pointed it upward and bent the wire around the rebar. Reflective flashes could
be seen for miles. Then he took the flag from his pack and passed it through the
crevice.
    Don had attached the fabric to a wooden pole with a tie on one
end. Garrett tied the pole to the rebar and hoped the flag wouldn’t fly away in
the wind.
    He had one more task to complete, which was checking for cell
phone service. It was worth a shot, even though power was down all over the
county. As he wrestled the phone from his pocket, he started swaying in
midair.
    Uh-oh.
    An aftershock rumbled through the structure, ripping the phone
from his hand. Concrete bits rained on his face and several metal squares popped
simultaneously. He fell about ten feet, gritting his teeth as the harness
caught. The force of motion sent him swinging like a kamikaze trapeze toward the
far wall.
    He slammed into it at full speed, cracking the side of his
head. Pain radiated from his shoulder to his hip, which had taken the brunt of
the impact. The last thing he heard before darkness descended was Lauren’s
terrified scream.
    * * *
    I T TOOK EVERY OUNCE of strength she possessed to keep her grip on
the rope.
    Don was working just as hard as she was, if not harder, but
they couldn’t hold on much longer. Garrett was so heavy. His body was slack and
lifeless, head thrown back, arms and legs dangling at his sides.
    What if he didn’t wake up?
    Lauren shouted for Penny. They needed all the help they could
get. The teenager was at her side in a split second, Cadence in tow. Both girls
grabbed a section of the rope, easing the tension slightly.
    It was just enough to buy them another minute.
    “We have to lower him slowly,” Don said.
    Lauren followed his lead. He showed her how to let out the
slack in gradual measures so they wouldn’t lose control of the rope. She
mimicked his motions, hand over hand. Working together, the four of them brought
Garrett closer to the ground.
    “Cadence, go hold his head,” she ordered. “Don’t let it hit the
concrete.”
    The girl released the rope and ran to Garrett, cradling both
arms under his head. They lowered him the last few feet until he lay sprawled on
his back.
    Safe.
    Lauren rushed to his side, checking his wrist for a pulse. It
hammered against her fingertips, strong and steady.
    He moaned, listing his head to one side.
    She was so relieved to see signs of consciousness that tears
sprang to her eyes. Cadence held up her hands, showing Lauren the blood on them.
Lauren reached into her medical bag for moist wipes and gauze. She passed the
wipe to Cadence and pressed the gauze to the wound on Garrett’s scalp, stanching
the blood flow.
    “Can you