The ground tremored again, as it had for the past week, and we all grasped whatever furniture was closest in the tiny living room of my New York City apartment. The lights flickered like a strobe light in the club across the street, and we all looked up, dreading that this would be the one that knocked the power out. Sweat trickled down my forehead, plastering my blonde hair to my face, as I looked at my friends surrounding me in this tiny room. Dave had sprawled his arms in legs in the doorway to the bathroom, as if that would block the rubble from breaking his neck, and Tansy had crawled under my scrawny metal desk, huddling like we did in school to prepare for disasters like this.
Why couldn’t we have just listened to the news reporters when they said this was coming? Everyone else did.
The TV was preaching of doom in the corner of the peach colored room, talking about the potential for a country-shattering earthquake. “The fault line has continued to build pressure for 60 years. With so much pressure, the potential for a catastrophically large quake is something that should be considered imminent.” I threw another card on top of the pile. A red draw four and looked at Dave with a smirk, watching as he picked up each of his new Uno cards in turn. Tansy had her eyes glued to the TV, mindlessly throwing down another red card when it was her turn.
“Do you think we should be worried about that?” Tansy had looked at Dave and me. “I’m really afraid they might be right.”
“The media always preaches doom and gloom. Nothing has ever come of it before, has it?” I rolled my eyes, knowing that it’s never as bad as they say it’s going to be. “Even if we do have an earthquake, how could it reach all the way here?”
“I guess you’re right. I just feel like somethin’ really bad is about to happen.” Tansy replied, throwing her blue reverse card down.
“Seismologists have studied recent spikes in the seismographic waves, indicating that this earthquake could be nation-destroying,” the news anchor squawked from the corner. Dave looked at me, and smiled, quirking a dark brown eyebrow at me, throwing a wild draw four on top of the pile.
“Green. Oh, and draw four,” he said with a smug tone.
“Ass,” I murmured, a smile creeping across my face despite the fact that I now had 17 cards in my hand.
The shaking subsided, and it was over for now. The hype about this wasn’t an overstatement. A month ago, I was playing Uno and drinking with my friends as we scoffed at news report after news report for being “too dramatic.” Now that the tremors had been going on for a week, it was only a matter of time before the fault that rested on the opposite side of the country caused mass destruction.
Great. Now you sound like the news anchors.
“What the hell are we supposed to do?” I asked no one in particular. I felt numb and angry with the stupidity of my past self since the tremors started. I really didn’t believe the reports. “Fake news” was the running joke between the three of us. It wasn’t so fake now. It was hard to believe they were already reaching all the way to New York already. And these were just minor ones.
“We need water. All the water we can get. Go fill up the tub. Empty out any juice or milk cartons and fill those too,” Dave snapped.
He had taken control. Dave wasn’t normally like that, but with Tansy hiding every time we turned around, and me numb from shock, he didn’t have much choice. He was the only one who picked anything up from the TV’s endless warnings of catastrophe. I was used to Dave’s sarcastic and almost never serious disposition. When all the tremors started hitting New York, he kicked it into high gear. The first time he ordered me to do something, I actually laughed. He didn’t think it was funny.
Turning to me, Dave said, “Check again for something we can eat. There’s gotta be something in this apartment. Look hard this time. Don’t just stare at the open cupboard like the last 5 times I’ve asked.”
I walked mindlessly to the kitchen, searching the cabinets for the 100th time for something that would last us through the devastation.
“What about twinkies?” I asked Dave. I bought them a couple months ago, thinking I would like the treat once in awhile, but I never opened them.
“Those are great. The news anchors said they could last like 20 years. There actually was one that lasted 20 years. Do you have any ramen?”
“Oh, yeah! I have some in my room.”
I moved out of the kitchen to get the bulk package of chicken flavored ramen, only to find Tansy in a heap of flower printed blankets and matching pillows on my stiff mattress…her newest hiding place.
“Tans, you gotta get out of there. If a real earthquake hits there’s no way you’d get to a safe place in time,” I said, a little harsher than I had meant to be. She shook her head vigorously, pulling the comforter even tighter under her chin.
“I am not leavin’ this bed. I want to die in comfort.” She set her jaw and I could tell she wasn’t moving right now.
I reached under my bed for the storage container I kept my extra food in. My cabinet space was limited, so I had to improvise. Pulling out the bulk-sized box of ramen, I walked back into the kitchen.
“Take the necessary precautions now,” the news anchor squawked at the three of us. “Seismologists are estimating two weeks for the San Andreas fault to give in.”
“Do you think maybe we should do what they are saying?” Tansy was biting her nails with her worry. She had progressively become more and more panicked as the broadcasts continued.
“Tansy, how many times do we have to tell you? It’s not going to happen,” I snapped. She had been camped out in my apartment for the past two weeks, thinking that the world was going to come crashing down mid subway ride. I was more than a little irritated with her at this point.
“…heavy boots to avoid fallen debris, flashlights with extra batteries, and water are your most vital survival tool, though water is the most important. Fill your bathtubs and any extra containers you may have now because once the ground starts shaking, you won’t have access to it anymore. It is likely that most pipes will burst or become blocked by debris.” The anchors were droning on in the background. I had decided to tune it all out since Tansy insisted we keep it on all the time. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I just chose to ignore it. I looked to Dave who had just retrieved a round of chinese food from the delivery guy at the door and smiled. Our Thursday night ritual was about to commence, and I was starving. I bounced over to him, taking the bags from his hands. I couldn’t wait to dig into my favorite—ramen.
The ground shook again, and we all clung to the nearest solid object. Tansy had gotten brave enough to come back into the living room with us. According to the anchors now, the seismograph readings were off the charts, and that was from the labs in the middle of the US. California was already in ruins from the constant quakes. We were only feeling “slight” tremors here.
Slight my ass.
Over there, they had experienced several massive quakes. There were very few buildings still standing, and those that did were in shambles, only a skeleton of what it used to be.
“I swear on my grandmother’s dead body that if I have to eat ramen one more time I will just die,” Tansy whined. Her southern drawl had never totally left her even though she moved here when she was 12, and it gets worse when she whines.
“Would you rather starve?” Dave snapped. In the past week, he had grown pissy. He was tired of being in control. Tired of having to be the only functioning adult.
“Tans, it’s okay,” I cooed at her. You had to be gentle with Tansy. I’ve figured that out in the past two weeks. I tried tough love. It didn’t work. “I’m sick of it too.”
“We should get out of the country. Pool our money together and fly.” Dave was starting to lose his sense of rationality.
“The planes are grounded. Have been for weeks. They can’t even begin to take off with the way the ground is shaking,” I said. My stomach sank to my feet knowing there was little hope for our survival.
“Then a boat. Let’s take a boat. Who cares if it’s slow. At least it’s not here.” Dave said running his hands through his hair in frustration. He knew as well as I did that there was little hope for that route too.
“Wouldn’t a boat get eaten up by the tsunami waves from the tremors?” Tansy had lifted her head from her arms. She had been folded in half, arms folded on her knees, on the couch most of the day.
“Maybe not here. They might just be small enough to get us to Europe,” I said, pulling out my iPhone to call every boating agency in NYC.
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