“Whoa,” Ethan said, putting his hands up. “I’m as confused as you are.”
“Aren’t you here to rescue us?” The teen girl’s voice rose in anticipation. She reclaimed her space by stepping in front of the man who had pushed her away.
Ethan shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
The girl’s hopeful expression turned to one of defeat.
“All I know is that my jet was dead in the air a few minutes ago. I ejected, and landed here.”
“You’re responsible for all this?” the man asked. His face contorted into anger. “Do you know how many people have died!”
“Calm down,” Ethan replied. “I wish I had more answers.”
The crowd mumbled their displeasure because the U.S. government hadn’t come to their rescue.
The man who had accused Ethan yelled excitedly, “Over there! Maybe they know something.” He forgot about his anger towards Ethan and ran towards another group. The people clustered around Ethan followed the man, except for one person.
“Please,” the teen girl begged. “My brother is hurt. Can you help?”
“I, um…” Ethan muttered.
“Please. I have nobody else to turn to.”
“What’s your name?” Ethan asked.
“Kinsey.”
“I’m Ethan. Show me where your brother is.”
Kinsey led Ethan past the debris on the field, past bodies and parts of bodies, then up to the seats where she had been sitting with her brother.
Tyler sat slumped over with a trickle of blood running down the side of his face.
“Is he okay?” Kinsey nervously chewed on a ragged cuticle.
Ethan felt his wrist. “He has a strong pulse.”
“Thank God,” Kinsey said.
Ethan tapped Tyler’s arms and knees to test his reflexes. All were good. “Kinsey, I think he’s got a concussion. Once he wakes he should be okay, though he does need ice for the bump on his head. I’ll stay here and you go find some ice in the concession stands.”
“Umm, I don’t have any money.”
“Whoever is manning the concession stands isn’t worried about money. I doubt anyone will be there. Fill several cups with ice, and if you find any hand towels, bring those back. Can you do that?
“Yes,” Kinsey said. “You won’t leave my brother, will you?”
“I won’t. I’ll be here when you get back. Now go.”
“Okay.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Ethan said. “Are you and your brother here by yourselves?”
“We’re with my mom.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She went to the restroom before this happened. I tried to find her, but so many people are hurt or dead.” Kinsey sniffled and glanced away. She swallowed, dropped her chin, then burst into tears.
Comforting a teen girl was way out of Ethan’s comfort zone. Flying close to the speed of sound was a piece of cake, but a crying teen girl? He had no idea what to do.
He glanced around, hoping to find a mom who could help. The people in the seats surrounding them on the rows above and the rows below had left. Drinks had been spilled, sugary liquid dripped along the concrete steps; hotdogs and nachos had been scattered around in the desperate rush when people fled. Ethan couldn’t blame them. He would have run too if not for his training.
“Kinsey,” Ethan said, “you’ll be alright. Take a big breath.” He hesitantly patted her on the back.
She hiccupped.
“Chin up. When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”
Kinsey cracked a smile, and glanced at Ethan. “My dad used to say that.”
“I’m sure your dad would be proud of the way you helped your brother. I personally promise I’ll get you back to your dad.”
Kinsey’s face turned red, and she sniffled again.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“My dad died several months ago. We were supposed to attend as a family.”
“I’m so sorry,” Ethan said. “Tell you what. Your brother is sleeping, and I doubt he’ll wake up in the next few minutes. You stay here and I’ll go get ice.”
“No!” Kinsey blurted out. “You won’t come back. I know it.”
“I’m not going to desert you. How about I come with you? What’dya think?”
“Okay,” Kinsey meekly replied. “Will my brother be okay by himself for a little while?”
“He will. Let’s go get some ice.”
“Wait a sec.” Kinsey fumbled around in her purse, took out a pen and a note pad. She scribbled a few words, tore off the paper, folded it then stuffed it in her brother’s jacket. “If he wakes up while we are gone, hopefully he’ll find this. I told him to stay put and we’d be right back.”
Kinsey and Ethan climbed the concrete stairs to the promenade and stepped into unadulterated chaos. Among the people running and shoving each other, several people were sprawled in unnatural positions, Ethan surmised was the result of being trampled. Other injured people had propped themselves against the walls, and many were testing their cell phones for service.
Chunks of smoldering concrete and pieces of the stadium littered the walkway. A pile of people had been caught in the shockwave of heat and metal now lay crumpled against a concrete wall. He quickly scanned the pile for signs of life. Finding none, he diverted his eyes.
Police were trying to keep control over the masses, and like a tide drawn to land, they were helpless to stop the wave of humanity.
“It’s every man and woman for themselves,” Ethan muttered.
“People want to get out of here and get home,” Kinsey replied. “I’d be going home too if I could.”
“Kinsey, do you have a cell phone?”
“Yes.”
“Let me have it,” Ethan instructed.
Kinsey slipped her cell phone from her back pocket. She pressed the power button, and waited for the familiar sign indicating it was powering on. “Strange.” Kinsey frowned. “I never turn it off.”
“Let me try,” Ethan said.
Kinsey handed the phone over. “We need some light in here. Why are all the
