Free 6:00 Hours: A Dystopian Novel by Chad Evercroft

him. The first thing he noticed was the blue sky above him. He was laying on his back, most of his body covered by broken wooden beams, drywall, and other pieces of debris. There was a pain in one of his legs, but when he tried to move, he found he was able to untangle himself without too much discomfort. He saw that something sharp had cut into his leg and that he was bleeding, but nothing seemed to be broken. Now free, he saw he was sitting in rubble that went on for what seemed like miles. No houses were standing. Most of the trees had been uprooted and tossed around as if the wind had been tossing sticks for a dog. The ones that were still standing were tattered from zooming wood and metal scraps. Danny noticed his truck had flown towards the trees before crumbled like a soda can by a falling trunk. The storm clouds had dispersed to the south, smearing the sky in black. Everything stood strangely still. A light breeze blew over the remains of Danny’s neighborhood. Crawling, Danny made his way to the mini shelter.
                  “Miranda? Boys?” he screamed desperately.
                  There were splintered boards laying across it and the paint had chipped in several places, but the shelter still stood. The slab of concrete had held and was the only indication of where the basement had been before. All that had been above it was now gone. Danny attempted to push some rubble away to clear a path, but his hands were shaking. From inside the shelter, he could hear the boys shouting and a foot kicked open the door from the inside. Miranda’s sneakered foot emerged, and then the rest of her. Hunter and Jesse quickly followed, like two little moles from a hole squinting against the bright sky.
    “Oh my God,” Miranda said, kneeling beside Danny.
    She touched his head and his shoulders as if to make sure he was really there.
    “You’re bleeding!” Hunter wailed.
    Both boys had looked like they were in shock, but seeing their father hurt brought on sobs. They looked around at the chaos surrounding them and wept, their minds unable to grasp what they saw. His ears numbed by the tremendous decibels he had been exposed to, Danny tried to comfort them, but his mind was elsewhere. He knew he had to deal with his leg and head injury, and what about the neighbors? Marty and his family? He could hear a siren drawing nearer and sure enough, an ambulance and fire truck pulled into view. An EMT leapt down from the vehicle and soon Danny was inundated with a series of questions.
    “Where are you hurt?”
    “Do you remember what happened to you? What’s your name?”
    “How do you feel? Do you have a headache?”
    Danny answered as best as he could and soon had his leg and head bandaged while Miranda talked to another EMT.
    “He might have a concussion,” the EMT was saying. “Keep an eye on him.”
    Danny was the only one who had been hurt. Everyone was given a blanket and lead away from the rubble while firefighters went to investigate the other smashed houses. Danny scanned the wreckage, searching for signs of Marty or Val or Tammy or Marty’s daughter, Sara. Marty didn’t have a shelter nailed to the concrete. Were they able to find protection? Were they badly hurt? Danny didn’t have the stomach to ask himself the most obvious, but also the most piercing question: Were they still alive?
    A shout drew Danny from his place of fear and he saw Marty standing above the rubble waving his arm at an EMT. Danny’s heart leapt into his throat and he suddenly felt like he had to be sick.
    Breathe , he told himself. Slow.
    Marty and his family had been half-buried in rubble, but were miraculously all unhurt except for a few bruises and scratches. Their basement had been on the side least touched by the tornado, so the heavy couch had shielded them from the heavier flying debris. Tammy, Val, and Miranda all embraced each other, crying silently, and Marty put a hand firmly on Danny’s shoulder. He looked