Shock

-22-

"Uhm... Hello," I offered a tiny wave.
Most of the people just looked at us with blank expressions on their faces, though some smiled lightly.
One kid, a little boy I'd place around two years below Peter, actually waved back with an enthusiastic 'Hi!'.
I looked back at Nathan with an expression I hoped said, 'what now?'.
He shrugged.
Because I didn't really see any other logical steps, I inched forwards.

Tens, maybe even hundreds of cots were spread throughout the open space. The walls were lined with bags, clothes and other personal belongings people had been carrying -or perhaps they'd gone back to retrieve them- when the earthquake hit.
People I vaguely recognized, though I wouldn't be able to name them, sat talking, feeding children, reading crumpled pocket novels...
I made my way through the maze of cots, looking for a person in charge, an information point or, in a best case scenario, my family.
When I couldn't find any of those things after crossing three-fourths of the hall, I turned to the nearest person, a slightly above middle aged man with a graying beard and crows feet near his eyes from smiling too much.
"Excuse me, sir," I said.
"Do you happen to know who's in charge here?"
"Yeah, he's right over there," the man said.
"It's the one in the blue shirt. Can't miss him."
I looked over my shoulder and spotted a pale twenty something in a teal shirt talking to a mother and her child. I thanked the man and approached blue shirt.
"Hi, how can I help you?" He said it in a way that made me assume he'd uttered those words so many times they'd become a reflex rather than a genuine act of kindness. He smiled, but fatigue showed in his eyes.
"I'm looking for my family,"
He nodded, "You're not alone, we have a list of everyone staying here at the centre. What's the name?"
He started walking towards a ratchet looking table in the corner. On it lay a few sheets of paper and a pen.
"Robins," I said.
He scanned the list, eyebrows furrowed. When he got to the end he shook his head.
"Sorry, no Robins,"
I felt my heart sink. I can't say I'd expected them to be there but I had hoped. Now, I had to  swallow back tears to prevent a breakdown.
"You okay?" Nathan, who'd been standing beside me, asked.
I nodded, afraid that if I opened my mouth, the tears might become unstoppable. I looked at Peter. He had been standing too far away to hear the news.
"I'll tell him," Nathan promised. I smiled gratefully, before closing my eyes and dropping my head.
"We will find them," Nathan said, for the second time that day. Though I knew he meant well, it was starting to sound like an empty promise.
How many times would we be disappointed like this? How many more places did we have to check?
I felt a hand on my shoulder - Paisley's, I presumed - guide me back towards the door through which we'd entered.
My feet move on their own, for my mind was too occupied with self-pity. I ambledthrough the crowd preceded by Nathan, Haley and a visibly upset Peter.
We were a somber parade, our little road trip-group. With our sad faces and hanging heads, we resembled a death march.
As much as I wanted to stay strong, I couldn't. All the cropped-up feelings from the past twenty-four hours were rising to the surface quickly, threatening to spill over.
I felt like nothing could lift my spirits right now, and only time would heal the -emotional- wounds.
We neared the exit. I could already feel the wind on my face, when suddenly a voice shouted my name.

"Charlie!"
The voice came from behind me. I recognized it immediately. It was a voice I knew better than my own, as I'd heard it every day for the last ten years.
I abruptly turned around, shaking off Paisley's hand and stepping around her to walk back the way we came.
In my hurry to reach the source of the sound, I tripped over a cot, but I quickly regained my balance. I could hear Paisley asking me where I was going, but I didn't bother with an answer. All I wanted was to reach the owner of the voice.
She was lying at the end of the row cot that ran perpendicular to the one we were traveling through.
Partially hidden under a blanket with her upper body propped up on some pillows, she was smiling at me.
"Rhonda," I breathed.