The Shades of Spring

Cataclysm in its wake

The streetlights blurred, grass lost substance and stares stopped mattering to them as they ran across the green, hurried up the steps and literally spilled in through the front doors with Sidra nearly swinging her way up to the third floor. Kevin, who waited for their return on the marble steps, rushed in after them and watched Sidra fall on her knees inside Hafsa's cubicle, staring at the bag that partly stuck out out from its usual stowaway spot.
Her face was red with exertion and her eyes wild, her pulse was shooting like fireworks inside her heart. She was wild with panic
"Did you tell..tell Peter?" she panted.
Ayaan looked to Kevin who nodded vigorously, "Yes. Yes, I did. The handful of us are scouring the building."

"Okay, okay," she muttered trying to regulate her breathing. When Sidra went into panic mode, everything else lost importance and her sole focus was directed at the problem. As such, she did not give herself further freedom of emotion or the luxury of breaking down. "She's gotta be in here somewhere. Who saw her last?"
"I-I did. I saw her-her sneak to-"
"-but that was over two hours ago!!"
"I know!" Kevin snapped at her, "I was covering for you both and I only-" he sucked in a breath "-I only got back from the bathroom and then I saw her bag and they told you left already."
"Why did-" Sidra sprang to her feet in a fit of rage but Ayaan stepped between her and Kevin, breaking up the argument.
"Doesn't matter what happened. We need to- go find her in there," his breath wasn't properly back but he managed to shove Kevin away from Sidra. Immediately the two old friends looked at each other apologetically and mumbled sorry before shooting off in opposite directions.

Hafsa's name echoed throughout the near empty building; it sounded in the basement, the archives, the lobby, the janitor's closets, the study rooms, the aisles and every conceivable place. No patrons were left at that hour, so the skeleton staff called out to their missing co-worker. With every call that went unanswered, Sidra felt fear swell in her stomach until her breath started to hitch in her throat.
"Calm down. Calm down," she muttered to herself on repeat.

Minutes after their arrival, while Sidra and Ayaan were on opposite ends of the building, Musa tore in through the front door; his shirt drenched in sweat and face bright red. He joined the howling, choking back tears. Josh stuck by him mumbling assurances.

Sheer desperation drew Sidra out of the building and to least likely places like checking under parked cars and chasing shadows behind trees. She ran left and right, dialling Hafsa's number though she knew everyone who did went straight to voicemail. She lost sense of time and collapsed on a concrete floor outside the main body, falling into prostration while sobs wracked her body.

Running footfalls reached her ears and she rose to kneel, greeted with the sight of a disheveled Ayaan whose beige shirt was crumpled and sticking to his body. Judging by his appearance, he too was chasing after shadows. He spotted her crying on the floor and came to a stop in front of her.
"Sidra, get up. She needs you."
"But I can't find her," she burst out in tears. "I can't find her..."
"Look, hey, look at me. Sidra, look up. Crying won't help anyone. If you want, stick with me and show me places. We'll find her."
She looked at his anxious face through tear filled eyes and complied, both of them calling out loud Hafsa's name. Between them, they covered the whole external perimeter, coming a full circle back to the old car park where she had been crying.

Her strength finally failed her; the burden of collective pain and anxiety crushing her throat like a bug. If it wasn't for Ayaan's constant interruption of her distraction, she would have fallen long ago.
"She's a big girl," he told her after he ran out of proper excuses.
She snapped at him like at Kevin, "But she's missing. The big girl is missing and all of us are freaking useless!"

"Tawakkul, have trust. Have we checked everywhere?"
"Yes."
"The out house? The boarded up back room?" he continued to rant places which she always ticked off
"Guard shack?"
"Yes," she wiped away her tears. Enough blubbering and crying. They had a friend to find. "We've checked them all. Even-" her eyes went wide as saucers and Ayaan eagerly nodded to prompt her, "there's one on that side." She was running before the words left her mouth.
Together, they made it to a weather worn wooden room with a door barely hanging on the hinges. Ayaan made to kick it in, but Sidra beat him to it and entered first. Disappointment enveloped them both as they found it to be empty. In order to take her mind away from the failure, she pushed open another door and walked back out under the starry canopy.
"Khair. In Sha Allah," Ayaan came after her, wiping the sweat off his brow.
"Just hang on. Okay? Call Kevin. Ask him."

She dug into her pocket and remembered she had no recollection where she left her bag. The area was dark except for the stars and the moon now behind a gray veil. While she fumbled with trembling fingers and a sweaty palm, Ayaan scanned the expanse behind her. There was no motion. No movement. Almost as if the world held its breath. He looked back at her, then suddenly blanched.

The moon coming out of her cloud cover, shone a sliver of light that bounced off a car hood barely visible behind a thick tree. Realisation sank cold knives into his heart as the colour and make of the Nissan became apparent to him.
"Come!" he ordered the girl and carelessly jumped in the direction of the car. Baffled but blindly faithful, she followed him until they reached the object of his interest.
Very quietly she heard his disheartening whisper, "He left ages ago."
"Who?" she asked him fearfully.
"John," he said before they both stuck their faces to the glass windows and peered in desperately. It was too dark, and the car appeared empty, but tension and fear made Ayaan drive his elbow into the glass. It cracked in three tries, shattered in four. Strangely, no burglar alarm sounded.
"Empty," he told her through rising pain in his elbow. "She's here. I know it," he added.
The next second, he was at the boot of the car, next to Sidra and an inhuman cry ripped through the treeline, only later he realised to be coming from the girl next to him. For, sticking out of the half closed boot, was the pink fabric of Hafsa's maxi dress.
_______________

He gently but quickly carried her out of it and set her down on the clearing having rushed a few metres away from the tree cover.
"Hafsa? Hafsa!" Sidra patted her face.
"Water. We need water," she instructed him and he immediately retrieved a bottle of beer instead.
She sprinkled the foul smelling liquid on her friend's face but to no avail. Ayaan deduced they needed proper first aid. He whipped out a phone from is pocket and saw the black device battery dead. Short of many careful options, he instructed Sidra to run back and fetch help.
It was a very unwise decision, with John lurking somewhere in the vicinity, but to leave her behind with Hafsa was even more detrimental. Sidra agreed not without hesitation, but putting her trust in Her Rabb, she sprinted away.

Half the distance covered, she realised she still carried a phone in her pocket. She stopped short and turned on the screen. She cursed when the power button didn't respond. But soon, she realised she was holding Ayaan's phone for some reason and turned on her heels at the same time loud shouts rang out from where she left them.

A figure of darkness slammed into Ayaan from behind, taking him clean off his feet. More shouts followed from the wrestling pair. In the darkness she couldn't tell who was beating up whom, but recognised a bald head reflecting the moonlight, straddling a person underneath. She screamed at the top of her lungs and charged across the empty space, forgetting the phone and the big picture, solely focused on the immediate threat.
Without a second's hesitation she flung herself into the melee, using her momentum to pull John away from choking Ayaan.
In reply to her effort, John rammed a meaty fist into her belly, making her double over and emptying her lungs of breath. What followed was a blur. There was a lot of face meeting concrete, flailing limbs that missed or connected; God alone knew. Pain from different parts of her body bled together to make her entire body a pit of excruciation.

When Hollywood showed brawls, they deceived you. In a real fight, there is no order or class or sophistication; it's ugly and it's raw and it's bloody and it's not something you just come out of. You go within an inch of death and bite and kick and scream and rip at hair to survive.

She had no idea when, but she found her phone in her hands and unlocked it, calling the first name in her log and yelling "West side! 911! Flashlights now!"