Free Quake by Jack Douglas

mother. Swallowed her whole, and yet Dad couldn’t understand why Lauren would want to leave New York, leave the entire East Coast. And now look at her, wounded and helpless on Columbia’s campus. Oh, God, as much as she loved books she didn’t want to die in a library, at least not for another sixty or seventy years.
    She listened intently for voices. Heard only the thumping of her own heart. Her ribs hurt and she was having difficulty breathing.
    Oh, shit. What if I’m bleeding internally?
    She tried to move and when she did a searing pain shot up both legs. This time it was futile to try to prevent her scream. She let out a terrified cry that echoed in the bookcases all around her. Tears now fell freely and she felt as desperate and as lonely as she had felt when she was five, when she learned her mother was never coming home again because people had intentionally flown airplanes into the tall buildings where her mom worked.
    Lauren listened, wondering whether her scream was heard by anyone. Was anyone in Butler Library even alive? She had no way of knowing. She had no way of knowing how long she’d been unconscious. And she had no way of knowing whether help was on its way or whether someone would eventually find her and whether it would be too late when they did. If she’d suffered internal injuries she might not have much time.
    She screamed again, this time intentionally, this time at the top of her lungs.
    No one can hear me, she thought. Everyone in the library was killed. And I’m going to die, too. Because no one will find me. No one even knows to look for me, except maybe the director of admissions. Oh, what was her name? Caroline, it was Caroline. Caroline Reignier. Yeah, Caroline knows where I am.
    But then, maybe Caroline was dead. If so, Lauren had no hope. She was going to die here in Butler Library. Of internal bleeding or dehydration or asphyxiation. She tried to control her breathing, but it was impossible.
    She thought: I’m going into shock.
    She thought: If I do go into shock, I’m dead; there will be no coming back.
    She thought: Calm down. You need to calm yourself down.
    She thought: How the hell can I calm down? I’m fucking buried alive.
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    She woke again hours later. Opened her eyes and saw nothing but blackness. Still. She listened for outside sounds but heard as little as she could see. Which was nothing at all. Only the increasingly ragged sound of her breathing was audible. A grim thought crossed her mind: Breathing won’t be a problem much longer.
    What if she died?
    She pictured her dad at her mom’s funeral twelve years ago. How he had broken down and cried during the service. As soon as she’d seen that, she’d fallen apart, too. Daddy was so strong, so courageous; if he was crying it just might be the end of the world, after all.
    She suddenly felt guilty over her earlier thoughts. No one had heard them—they were just in her head. But, still. How could she have turned on him like that?
    I was scared.
    Nothing in the universe could justify those thoughts. Her dad had sacrificed everything for Lauren. He never went out, never got drinks, never dated. Never got laid. All right, that was none of her business. But it was true. He’d given himself fully to his only daughter over the past twelve years. Other dads watched football on Sunday, not the first season of Girls on DVD. They went out with the guys one or two nights a week. Instead, her father took her on daddy-daughter dinner dates. And always let her pick the restaurant. Even if she insisted on going to the same restaurant in Chinatown for eleven months straight, like she did back when she was a kid.
    He’s safe, isn’t he?
    Of course, he was. Whatever happened, it happened here on the Upper West Side, not downtown by the courthouses. And that’s where Dad was, making opening statements in the high-profile trial against—
    That terrorist, could he