Chapter 5

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MARK TRIED TO OPEN his eyes. They felt heavy, like they had weights on them. Finally, he forced one eyelid open, but instantly closed it against the painful, blinding light.

Head throbbing, he waited a moment before squinting through both eyes. He was lying on a bed in a medium-sized room with a television mounted on the opposite wall. A man on the screen wearing a suit pointed at clouds rushing over a satellite picture of the United States, talking rapidly. But all he could hear was a monotonous beeping sound.

Mark turned his head. The sound seemed to come from the machine beside the bed. He heard rustling and saw someone in scrubs pass his door. So I’m in a hospital, was his first thought.His second was, Why?

He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his side and knocked him back to his pillow. But it wasn’t just his side. His whole body ached.Eyes wide, he stared at his torso, which was swathed in bandages, and at the tubes that protruded between the strips. Had he been in a car accident? Had he fallen? Had he—?

Then he remembered. He shuddered, recalling the horror of watching his family walk into the grocery store just as a frantic man dashed out. He relived the explosion. Saw the ball of fire flashing toward him.

“Nurse! Nurse!” he called. “I need help! Someone help me!” Despite the bandages on his hands, he frantically felt the bed for the call button but couldn’t find it.

A nurse rushed into the room. “Mr. Appleton, are you in pain?” She glanced at his chart then reached for his wrist. “I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Please,” he croaked as she took his pulse. His mouth was so dry, he could barely speak. “My wife. My daughter. Where are they? They were in the grocery store. Have you seen them? Please…” He gripped her hand and stared into her face.

She took his hand in both of hers. “Mr. Appleton, I am so sorry…” She swallowed. “Everyone inside the supermarket died in the explosion. Only four survivors were found outside the building, including you. I am so sorry about your family.” Tears filled her eyes. “I wish I could give you hope, but I can’t.”

“No!” He pushed himself upright. “It can’t be!”

She shook her head, tears now pouring down her cheeks.

His heart exploded into a million pieces, like the windows of his car. He covered his face with his hands and began to rock as he wept. He had to think, but he couldn’t marshal his thoughts. He could barely breathe. How could he live without his family? K and Samantha were his life, his everything.The nurse patted his back and asked him if he wanted anything.

He shook his head.

She offered him water.

Again, he shook his head. Though his throat was parched, he couldn’t drink, not with Sam and K dead.

She told him she was going to find the doctor and hurried out of the room.

Still rocking, he wrapped his arms around his sore ribs. He should have gone into the store with them, should have protected them from...from whatever it was. Or died with his family.

Finally, he dropped onto his pillow and stared at the ceiling, wishing he could sleep, then feeling guilty for wanting to escape the pain.

The doctor came in, looked him over and checked his charts. He offered his condolences, asked how he felt, but Mark didn’t respond. Instead, he asked what caused the explosion. The doctor told him no one knew, but the authorities were already investigating.

Later that evening, Bill and Holly visited. His mother-in-law’s eyes were red and puffy. Bill looked like he was about to pass out. Without even a hello, Mark turned his back to them. It was selfish, he knew. They had lost their daughter and granddaughter, but he could not feel anything beyond his own deep, dark grief. He couldn’t shoulder their grief, too.

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