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“Over here!”
I followed the voice as the crunching of glass below my feet also filtered through my ears. One thing I was surprised about was the lack of sirens.
Where the hell are they?I wondered.
With the windows broken, the worst of the smoke was much higher and flowed toward the sides of the building. I clutched my injured right side with one hand and kept my shirt over my mouth with the other. It didn’t help much, but some relief was better than nothing. I could breathe, and that worked for me.
“Temperance! Oh, Temperance. Hurry. Help lift this. It was thrown onto me in the blast,” Pastor Montgomery said.
“The blast?” I asked.
I stood behind the pew and leaned forward, trying not to scream as I did. I placed both hands on the wood and prepared to lift. It was in pieces from what I assumed was the blast Pastor Montgomery had mentioned, but it was still a large chunk. It would weigh a couple hundred pounds at least.
“Yes.” He looked at me with concerned, narrowed eyes. “There was an explosion. You don’t remember? Get this off me. I need to check you out.”
Increased worry filled his face as he examined me from his place on the floor. Trying not to think too much about my own injuries, I said, “Okay. On three. You push. I pull. Ready?” He nodded, and I continued. “One. Two.THREE!”
A sharp, ear-piercing sound cut through my ears as the heavy pew moved. I didn’t know how far we needed it to move, so I just kept pulling. Arms wrapped around me, and the pew fell, but the sound didn’t stop. When I was roughly turned and stared into the terrified eyes of Pastor Montgomery, I realized the sound had faded. And as I closed my mouth, I realized the ear-splitting noise had been me screaming from pain.
He wiped tears from my face, the coolness of the air caressing my cheeks as it brushed across the wet spots left behind.
“Tempe, we have to get you out of here,” he said. “You’re hurt very badly. You’re soaked in blood.”
I sniffled and looked down at a large hole in my side that seemed like something was still in it. When my fingertips brushed against jagged edges of something foreign, I knew I was correct. Part of the pew I’d been on earlier must have splintered off into my side.
What I hadn’t realized was the object wasn’t in my ribs at all but just below them, and for that, I was grateful. Had it been any higher, I might have bled out already. However, I assumed the pain in my ribs meant they were broken.
“Don’t touch it. Leave it in,” he said as he stilled my hand.
“Where’s my father?” I asked, my brain suddenly remembering I’d been there with him. “He wasn’t over there with me.” I looked around, realizing then that aside from the sounds of the fire blazing in the back of the church, there were no longer any whimpers or screams. Only dead silence. “What happened to all the screams?”
Pastor Montgomery’s mouth turned to a straight line as he looked at me. “We need to get you out of here.”
I shook my head and pushed him away. As I turned to walk away, determined to search for anyone still alive, I tripped over someone. Someone who was quite dead. I managed to catch myself, but that didn’t stop the pain that radiated through my head and side. At that moment, I realized it was pure shock and adrenaline keeping my eyes open and my feet under me. I probably wouldn’t have long.
I needed to find my dad. I needed to findanyonestill alive.
“Dad!” I shouted as I walked down the aisle, looking for any signs of him. “Dad! It’s Tempe! Is anyone alive?”
My head throbbed as I tried my damnedest to remember. Something.Anything. We’d come together. I remembered that. We’d sat together. I remembered that.
But where did he go?
Why wasn’t he there with me when I woke up?
The sounds of fire engines, ambulances, and police cruiser sirens all blared in the distance. Relief flooded through me. Help was on the way.
While looking around, a sea of death stared back at me. Some familiar faces. Some random limbs strewn about from the blast. Some people full of bullet holes. Tears burned at my eyes as I forced myself to register nothing while seeing everything.
“Don’t identify them,” I told myself. “Don’t identify them. Just look for Dad. Just look for Dad. Just look for Dad.”
Over and over, I whispered to myself, reminding myself not to notice the family of four huddled together several feet away. All slumped lifelessly together.
Fear threatened to take me over, but I couldn’t let it. Not yet. I was almost there. I just had to find my dad.
“Dear God in Heaven,” Pastor Montgomery said.
I followed his slack-jawed gaze nearly ten feet away and landed on a familiar face—a face that wasn’t supposed to be there.
