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buildings.

Then I saw it.

Bent some, tilted to the right, but still standing … the Golden Arches of McDonalds.

I gathered I was on the street behind it, and I used that sign as my point of direction because I knew the garage was across from it.

I wasn’t far.

From where I stood, I saw the yellow roof of McDonald’s, half of it, lay in the parking lot. It blocked my view and my ability to see if our building was still standing. My eyes were adjusting nicely, it was dead quiet and eerie.

My legs were like jelly, unsteady. Debris was everywhere, some in plain view, some hidden in puddles. I walked cautiously so as not to trip or twist an ankle.

At the edge of the fast food restaurant, the ‘enter’ sign was untouched and a few feet from it, off the lot was a tipped over picnic table on its side. There near the bottom was my pink tee shirt.

I don’t know what possessed me to go get it. It wasn’t like it was dry and would keep me warm, but I was glad I did.

When I bent down for my shirt, I realized it was wrapped around Skip’s wrist. He was nestled in there.

Thinking, ‘please don’t let him be dead’, I called his name. “Skip. Skip.”

He turned his head and looked at me.

Dropping to my knees, I gasped out. I couldn’t see how badly he was hurt.

“You’re alive,” he said. “Thank God.”

“Thank God, you’re alive, too. Are you hurt?”

“I think something is broken. Ribs for sure. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I’ll go get help.”

“I … I think I can get out.” Skip inched some and paused. “I let go when Bryan let go of me. I’m sorry.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m fine. We need to go look for him. Get some flashlights. Well, maybe not you and I.”

“I’m fine.” He cringed as he looked up. “A lot of good that table did.”

“You crawled under?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He scooted again toward me, grunting. I knew he was hiding his pain.

Skip just had to make it over the bench seat. He rolled to his side with a loud groan.

“Okay,” he said. “It’s the rib and the arm.”

“I’ll go get help.”

“No. No. I think my legs are fine.”

One arm tucked safely to him, I grabbed his good arm and pulled using mostly his legs, Skip wiggled his way out.

I helped him to stand.

“Thank you,” he said, then looked down. “Ha.” He raised his hand. “I have your shirt. How about that.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. Probably more so from being relieved.

I took my shirt and held it as I put one arm around his waist.

Together, leaning on each other, we hobbled across the parking lot.

Once we made it around the fallen rooftop, I saw the dancing lights going back and forth, four of them along with shouting.

“Jana! Skip! Bryan!”

“Jana!”

“Maria!

Lane and Martin’s voice carried over them.

I called out with a cracked voice, “Here.”

They were calling out so consistently, they couldn’t hear us.

I stopped, let go of Skip and backtracked a few steps to the roof. Lifting my leg, I stomped it four times. I wasn’t even sure if they’d hear that, but they finally stopped calling.

“Over here!” I called out.

A flashlight moved and the LED light caused me to squint.

“Jana!” Lane cried out.

The light was in my eyes, but I could hear the running footsteps.

“Oh my God,” he gushed, grabbing on to me. “Oh my God.”

“I’m okay, a little banged up. Skip needs help.”

“Oh, stop,” Skip said. “I’m fine.”

“I need to get you inside,” Lane said and without hesitating, lifted me in his arms.

“I can walk.”

“I got you,” he said.

I felt safe and even warm within his hold, I rested my head on his shoulder, slinging my arm around his neck. “Lane. You can’t stop looking. They’re out here. Bryan and his wife. You have to keep looking.”

“We will,” he replied. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll find him.”

There was something in the way he said it, a waver, he lacked confidence.

He didn’t believe his words. But if Skip and I made it, they could have, too.

✽✽✽

The hot mug of tea felt so soothing against the palms of my hands. I sat on a folding chair, wearing dry clothes, but also a blanket draped around my shoulders. I couldn’t warm up.

The hugs from Carlie and Reese helped, but Anita shooed them away so she could clean what she called road rash out of my elbows.

“How’s Skip?” I asked.

“He has a couple broken ribs and that forearm is broken as well. I have an air splint on it now …” she said. “I’ll mix a cast during our next stop.”

“He saved my life, you know.” I glanced down to my tea. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay him.”

“If I am correct, you’re bringing him to this survival shelter. That’s a huge thanks. You know,” she lowered her voice. “I was online before it all went down and even if this big storm you’re talking about, if it doesn’t hit, there’s nothing left out there. Not behind us.”

“What did you learn?”

“Places are flattened, hit a couple times. Yeah, there are places not hit, but more are than aren’t.” She shook her head. “There is no Red Cross to help the injured or to rebuild. There will be no fundraisers or celebrities sending money. Sure, people will rebuild, but there’s not gonna be a Home Depot to run to for supplies.”

“We’ve been reset.”

“Yes, we have.” Anita handed me a couple ibuprofen. “Take these. We aren’t leaving until sunup. You have about three good hours. Why don’t you go to your RV and get some sleep?”

“I don’t know if I can.” I placed the pills in my mouth, washing them down with a cautious sip of hot liquid. “I haven’t slept in days, but I don’t know if I can.”

“I can give you something,” she suggested.

Lane stepped closer, holding up the bottle of expensive bourbon. “How about a hefty shot of this in your tea? It’ll take

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