Rick maneuvered the car around the wreckage until he reached the worst of it. Horror, sorrow, and empathy bludgeoned Mac as he surveyed the houses that had been wiped off their foundations, piles of rubble everywhere.
Oh God, these people. The shock. The fear. The grief. Emotions clogged his throat and he squeezed his hands into tight fists, digging his nails into his palms. His trauma happened in the past. This was happening to people right now, this minute.
Fires had started from gas line ruptures. Cars were perched precariously on rooftops. A crib lay broken on a lawn. A pained groan pressed out between his desperately clenched teeth.
Gayle squeezed his hand again. “I’m so sorry, Mac. I wanted to save you from this.” Her sentenced ended on a smothered sob. “There are people trapped. We have to help.”
“Absolutely,” he managed.
He felt the same way. Felt so much respect and was in awe of her because of her compassion. But that didn’t stop the demons that had tormented him for the last four years from completely overtaking him.
Rick stopped the car. As Gayle opened the door, screams for help punched him in the gut, hitting him harder and with more power than any heavyweight fighter ever had. A man stumbled out into the road, blood coating the left side of his face. Gayle immediately hurried over to him, put her arm around him, and helped him sit down. Rick came up to the man and handed him a water bottle. Where he’d gotten it, Mac had no idea.
But the sight of the two of them helping reached deep inside Mac. He hadn’t been able to help Ally. No one had been able to help her. She had most likely been taken from this world before she’d even hit the ground. But he could help someone now.
He opened the door and climbed out. From where the tornado had demolished a line through the heart of the town, he could see for miles in each direction. People were slowly emerging from damaged buildings on the perimeter of the tornado’s path and were making their way over to the destruction that lay before them, while others were crawling out from under rubble and climbing out of storm shelters.
The cries for help went through him like knives. He met Gayle’s devastated but determined gaze, gathered strength from her, and leapt into action. A young teen was pinned by a collapsed wall. Mac lifted it and she crawled out, sobbing. Other than a few scrapes, she was relatively unharmed. A miracle.
Ambulances, police cruisers, and fire trucks slowly made their way through the debris. But there still weren’t enough rescuers. As he helped the girl to one of the EMTs, he felt a tug on his shirt. He glanced down. A small girl, maybe around the age of three, with blond hair and blue eyes. Blood ran from a cut on her forehead, and her clothes were soaked and caked with dirt. But it was the innocence in her eyes that knocked him hard in the heart.
The blond hair and blue eyes reminded him so much of Ally. And she was right around the same age as their child would’ve been… His heart wrenched painfully as he squatted in front of her.
“Hey, sweetie.” His voice was thick with repressed emotions and he had to clear it.
“I can’t find my mommy.” Tears welled in the child’s eyes as her chin started to wobble. She touched the knot on her forehead. Her little fingernails were painted a cheerful pink, such a contrast to the devastation around them. “M-my house is all gone, so is my m-mommy. I want my daddy.”
He didn’t know if he had the strength for this. “It’s going to be okay,” he soothed, seeing the shock of whatever she’d been through was wearing off. “I need you to be brave for just a little bit longer so we can find your mommy. Okay? Do you know where your house was?”
Taking hiccupping breaths, the little girl looked around, and he could tell she wasn’t sure. How could she? Everything was leveled. Then she pointed a tiny trembling finger down the road a bit. “That’s my room,” she said, then burst into a wail only a terrified child could make. “Mr. Alligator!”
The child’s distress tore at him, and he gathered her up in his arms, as he glanced over at the one pink wall still standing about forty yards away. The tiny body convulsed against his chest as she sobbed for everything she had lost. God, he hoped he found her mom. Maybe he would…just like he found Ally.
He squeezed his eyes closed. He couldn’t let his mind go there. Not now.
When he opened them, he made eye contact with Gayle, who was hurrying over. She stopped in front of them and gently touched the child’s back. The little girl lifted her head. Wetness streaked her face as she took shaky inhales.
“Hey there, sweetie. I’m Gayle. What’s your name?”
“S-Sophie.” She scrubbed her eyes with her fists.
“She can’t find her mom,” Mac said, and Gayle shot a glance at him. They stared at each other for a moment.
“What’s your mom’s name, honey?”
“B-Brandi.”
“I’ll go find her,” he said.