Emilie Richards - The Parting Glass

“Nick!” Casey reached them. “Where’s Jon?”

Niccolo released Megan. “He was in the very back. I’ve got to see what kind of damage was done. I’ve got to find my family.”

Megan started after him. She knew his real mission was to see if anyone had lagged behind and been caught in the collapse. The sight that greeted her nearly tore the breath from her lungs again. The roof over the front quarter of the building had fallen to seal off the entrance completely. What rubble she could see beneath it was waist-high. “Oh, God!”

Casey grabbed her. “Stay away, Megan. For Pete’s sake, don’t get near—”

Jon reached them. “Get in the back with everybody else. Please. It’s safer.”

“What if somebody—” Megan couldn’t finish that thought.

“Most everybody was in the back milling around the cake. If we’re lucky…Just help us get everybody else back there now. We’ll do head counts. Start, would you?”

Megan knew he was right. Thick dust choked the room, and her vision was obscured. But nothing she could see indicated that anyone had been in the extreme front when the wall collapsed.

Casey was already helping people move farther toward the back. Megan saw one of the Brick kids holding his head, but he was walking unaided. One of Marco’s daughters had a scratch on her cheek, but the bleeding didn’t look serious. Niccolo’s mother had her arm around his grandfather and was helping him walk. Megan turned to see Peggy struggling with the door to the apartment, and she remembered that Kieran was upstairs with their aunt.

As she watched, Peggy wrenched open the door, despite the crush of frantic guests, and disappeared into the stairwell. The back of the building seemed secure, but what if the second story wasn’t? What if the upstairs, which camel backed the saloon, had been blown away? The apartment only ran across the back, but what if…

She stumbled forward, helping a great-uncle who seemed unable to find his way. Once she was sure he was heading in the right direction, she made it to the door and started up the stairs.

“Peggy?” She called her sister’s name as she climbed. The stairs seemed secure. Above her, everything looked the way it always did. “Peggy! Aunt Dee!”

The door at the head of the stairwell was open. She made it to the top without incident and found Peggy and her aunt clasped together in a bear hug, Kieran screaming between them.

“Thank God.” She joined them.

“The bedroom’s wrecked,” Deirdre said calmly. “The window exploded. There’s glass everywhere, but Kieran and I were in here.”

“Let’s get downstairs. We can exit through the kitchen door. The front’s a nightmare.”

“No, we can’t get out that way,” Peggy said. “The back door’s blocked.”

Megan knew she wasn’t thinking clearly, but now she was particularly confused. “How do you know? You came straight up here.”

“A tree fell in front of the back door this morning, Megan. Right on top of Nick’s car. We’d pulled his Civic out behind the kitchen door to decorate it, and that old maple toppled right onto his roof. Nobody wanted to tell you until we had to. We didn’t want to spoil—”

“I guess you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Peggy said.

The loss of a car seemed inconsequential at the moment. “Nick’s won’t be the only car in Cleveland to suffer storm damage. Kieran’s okay?”

“Just scared. We’re all scared.” Peggy kissed Kieran’s hair.

“Aunt Dee?”

Deirdre drew herself up straight. “Let’s get downstairs. Did you see your uncle?”

Megan tried to remember if she had seen Uncle Frank. “I didn’t, I’m sorry. But I didn’t see any serious injuries.” She thought of the roof sitting at the front of the saloon and what might be under it. “Nick and Jon were checking when I came upstairs.”

“I think we need to go down right away.” Deirdre no longer sounded calm, and Megan knew reality was setting in.

They started for the stairs. Megan went first, with Peggy and Kieran right behind her and their aunt bringing up the rear.

Niccolo was waiting at the bottom, and at the sight of them, he looked relieved. “I don’t think anyone was buried in the rubble,” he said in a low voice. “There’s no sign anybody was that close. Some people were hit by flying debris. There’s some blood and some bruises, but none of the injuries are life-threatening. We’re doing a head count now.”

“Nick, there’s no exit.” Megan stepped aside to let Peggy and her aunt by. “There’s a tree blocking the kitchen door.”

“Jon told me.”

“Maybe it’s better if we stay inside until the fire department can get to us. Outside must be as bad as in. Wires must be down, trees are down. If nobody’s seriously hurt here—”

“Megan, a couple of people claim they smell gas.”

She couldn’t breathe again. She was angry at herself for succumbing to fear, but anger was not inflating her lungs.

“Take it easy,” he said, spotting her dilemma. “Let yourself go limp. Don’t think about breathing….”

She obeyed as well as she could. In a moment the light-headedness passed and air was moving again. “What’s wrong with us?” she gasped. “Why didn’t we have the radio on? Why didn’t somebody warn us?”

He ignored her question and began to catalogue their options. “We can’t get out through the front. The roof is precarious. If we start moving debris, more of it could fall, and somebody could be injured or killed.”

“We put a steel door in the kitchen two years ago after that carjacking. There’s no way we’ll be able to break it down, not with a car and a tree in front of it.”

“Are there other exits? Anything I don’t know about?”

She tried to think. There were no windows on the sides of the building. “Kitchen window?”

“Too small for most of us, and blocked besides. The tree did a lot of damage.”

Now she understood why no one had allowed her near the kitchen.

“We might be able to get the smaller children out that way if we have to,” he continued.

Megan had often fantasized about a picture window over the side work counter. She had told herself she would put one in someday, even if the view was mediocre and she had to add bars for security. “The fire department must be on the way,” she said.

“I don’t think we can count on them coming quickly. I’m sure we’re not the only casualty.”

“There’s a hole in the roof.”

“No help.”

“The gas won’t build up, will it? Even if there’s a leak, it’ll dissipate.”

“I’d rather not find out.”

“Are the phones—”

“Dead. And so far nobody’s gotten a cell phone working. The local tower might be down, or the system could be flooded with calls.”

Jon arrived. “Rooney’s missing.”

Megan looked at Niccolo, searching his eyes. “Did you see him recently? Do you remember? The last time I saw him, Aunt Dee had him tucked under her wing, but she was upstairs with Kieran when the tornado hit.”

“He was with your uncle Frank,” Jon said.

“Is Uncle Frank—”

“Fine. But he lost Rooney after the tornado.”

“Were they in the front?”

“No, in the back. He should be safe, but he’s disappeared.”

“Anyone else missing?” Niccolo asked.

“Not that we’ve discovered. Unless somebody was here alone with no one to vouch for them.”

Megan frantically tried to think. “Where could Rooney be?”

“Upstairs?” Jon asked.

“No, we were just up there. Maybe he’s hiding. In the kitchen or behind the bar?”

“We checked.”

“Storeroom?”

“Checked it.”

“The cellar,” Megan said. “Did anybody check the cellar?”