“Dad,” a young voice called out. “Dad?”
Abby gasped. It was the child. She knew in their car at least, there was only one child. But where was he? He was calling out for his father, but his voice wasn’t close.
Where?
The moment the train hit its breaks, Tyler’s father huddled over him, wrapping his arms around him. Tyler remembered burying his face in his father’s arms, holding on tight and his little fingers gripping his father’s shirt. But then they hit something and his father’s hold released.
Tyler flew out of his father’s arms, across the train car. He was so tiny he hit no one. He was like a perfectly thrown basketball, sailing in the small space. Just before the train landed completely on its side, Tyler went seamlessly through the window.
Swish.
His hip hit the concrete first and, like the time he fell from his bike, his body skidded across the concrete and he rolled over and over. He could hear the train sliding against the concrete, the metal squealing loudly against the ground until it came to a stop.
Tyler was hurt. He could feel it, but couldn’t think about. Once his body came to a stop he looked up to see the remaining train cars careening his way, reckless, out of control with the cars flipping haphazardly.
Scurrying to his knees and then to his feet, Tyler was running before he was completely standing.
There really wasn’t anywhere to go, but he ran away from the certain impact that was headed toward him straight to train car number two. He slipped in a small space between the train car and the wall, brought his knees to his chest, covered his head and screamed.
His screams were buried beneath the crashing sounds of the tumbling cars.
How he escaped getting crushed was nothing shy of a miracle.
But he did.
Bleeding just a little from concrete rash burns that would radiate through him later, Tyler crawled out when everything stopped and grew silent.
He had to find his father.
“Okay, swell, I’m stuck,” Harry thought. He must have been knocked out because he had one doozie of a headache. He only hoped he hadn’t fractured his skull. His hands were free and he felt for his nose and then his ears. No fluid. Good sign. But then again, he was stuck.
Leo’s gift was digging into his chest due to the weight of the man on top of it, dead weight.
But had the gift not been there, Harry supposed he would have suffocated. Then again, Harry was a big man, tall, robust and strong too.
How he survived he didn’t know. Again he attributed it to his size. Of course, with his luck, at his age he probably had broken a hip and when the pressure of the bodies lifted he would be unable to move. Stuck in the wreckage, he would be one of those people emergency workers carried out on a stretcher.
But Harry wouldn’t scream. No way. No how.
That wasn’t him.
He took a second, took a deep breath and thought about his situation.
Peering left then right around the dead body on top of him, Harry assessed he was about six people deep.
Again, thinking, ‘swell,’ Harry looked for head room. He wasn’t packed like a sardine and that was a good thing. The car was on its side, but not completely. It was angled. If he could just slip out from the bodies, slide his back up against the wall, which was actually the floor, he could conceivably climb up. That was if his hip wasn’t broken.
He wanted to call out to those on top of him, he swore he saw one of them move. But he feared doing that would cause the perfect pyramid to collapse and crush him.
He just needed leverage.
What could he use for leverage?
The gift, Leo’s gift, was a strong box made of heavy metal. It already protected Harry once. It was possible it could save him again.
Harry wiggled his toes, twitched his legs and checked any and all body parts he would need to get out. They all seemed to be working rather painlessly and it was time to make the attempt.
Using all his strength, Harry gripped the box and inched to the right. It was a struggle, but he moved. Or at least he thought he moved.
He took a moment, got another breath, held the box and inched some more, this time backwards.
By God, Harry thought, it is going to work. It would take some time, but he’d get there.
“Dad?”
Abby’s head jolted quickly to the close sound of the boy’s voice. She saw him. He was peeking in the open door at the other end of the train.
“Dad?”
“Stop,” Abby called to him, holding out her hand. “Don’t come in here.”
“I need to find my Dad,” Tyler said.
“We will. Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay, then just…. Stay there. We’ll find him.”
Tyler nodded.
Abby was relieved, she lowered her head and released a single sob.
“Can you help me?” the voice, the same voice, the man who was stuck, called to her again. “I’m really stuck. This guy on top of me is huge.”
“Recite the alphabet,” Abby said.
“Is this a test?”
“No, I need to find you.”
He did.
To the left, his voice came from the left. Abby scooted over some. Where? Where was he?
By the time he got to the letter ‘W’, Abby had pinpointed the voice.
“Can you move anything?” Abby asked. “I know you’re here somewhere.”
“No. I’m pinned in.”
Abby looked around her. She was perched on the arm of a seat and when she looked down she saw the cell phone. Grabbing it, she played with the phone until it lit up enough for her to use it as a guide.
“Call out again.”
“Hello.”
Found.
The light cast a small hue on the almond colored face. His eyes blinked. It was reminiscent of the scene from the movie ET.
“You found me,” he said.
Abby noticed he was young. “I did.”
“When you were calling for the little boy, I thought you meant me.”
“You’re not that young.” Abby touched the dead body on top of him.
“No. But I’m too young to die. Can you get me out of here?”
“I’ll try,” Abby said. “Ok, let me think for a second.”
“What about if I push and you pull this guy,” he suggested.
“Then what?” Abby asked.
“Can we roll him out of the way?” he asked.
“We can try. Okay.” Abby took another breath. It was going to be difficult but she wasn’t a small woman. While her height was average, she always was a big boned gal and her body had held the extra weight from the baby, but she wasn’t anywhere as nimble as she wanted to be. But Abby was strong, she knew that.
Positioning herself belly down on the seat, Abby scooted up enough to get a good grip on the man’s body. “I’ll pull outward, you push and hopefully the momentum will move him. We start on the count of three. One, two…”
“Wait.” Another voice entered the equation.
They stopped.
The voice was close. Abby grabbed the cell phone again and used it as a light. Down at the bottom of the pile was a man, an older man.
It was Harry.
He was nearly free. He was still pinned from the waist down, but he had managed to get out some and was in a semi sitting position. “Just be careful. I don’t want all my hard work trying to free myself to be for naught,” he said.
“Are you hurt?” Abby asked.
“I ache,” Harry answered. “Then again at my age everything is gonna hurt.”