Part 1
December 23
The mall was crowded with people doing their early holiday shopping. Lights were strung from the ceiling of the two-story building. Each store had its own decorations lining its windows and aisles, setting the atmosphere for shoppers to be more 'giving' to others.
Couples walked arm in arm as mothers, and the occasional conscripted fathers, walked with children. Exasperated mothers called out to their young ones as children ran to see the wonderful sights that the season brought. Husbands asked total strangers about the size that would fit their wives, and Peter Caine watched as the mall filled with people of all different shapes and sizes. Patting his mother's hand, which was looped around his arm, he guided her with ease through the milling crowd. Having lived with the Blaisdells for half his life, Peter had learned to appreciate the time of season. This was his time of year, and he relished every minute.
"Honey, when did you say Kermit was going to meet us?" Annie Blaisdell asked, as she listened to the music piped in through the mall intercom system. In her many years of blindness, she had learned to tune out the sounds of others so she could concentrate and focus her attention where she chose.
"Oh." Peter looked at his watch, remembering he was supposed to meet his temporary partner at the food court in the center of the mall. "In about thirty minutes. We've got time to go to…" Peter hesitated.
Annie smiled as she intuited her foster son's thoughts in the words that he didn't say. "Yes, we have time to go the Rail Shop."
They took the escalator. Peter studiously avoided looking over the side, instead kept his eyes either on his mother or on the steps as they moved up then disappeared into the floor at the top of the moving stairs.
The Rail Shop was Peter and Paul Blaisdell's favorite store. They enjoyed the model railroads they each had had collected over the years. Paul had passed his love of the hobby on to his foster son. The store was several doors down from the escalator, past the cinnamon roll shop, the shoe store, and the specialty store.
Looking in the store, Peter noticed the crowd of people milling around the aisles, browsing for that one special gift. "Mom, there's a lot of people in there. I'll just come back later."
Disappointment sounded in the young man's voice. He had been so excited about buying the one piece he had decided was missing from Paul's set. It was a piece the cat had broken when she decided to have her kittens next to the toy depot. Somehow, in the throes of giving birth, Isis had knocked over the building, sending it crashing to the floor.
"Peter, I'm a little tired. I'll just sit down on a bench. Isn't there one near the store?"
"Yes, over in front of Aland's. Are you sure you don't mind?" Peter asked, excitement once again building.
Smiling, Annie put her free hand around the arm that guided her so safely through the throng of people. "Yes, I'm sure. Besides, if you miss it, I would never forgive myself. Now, take me over there so you can go and get the depot. We don't have much time before we have to meet Kermit."
After seeing that his foster mother was seated safely on a bench under a tree, Peter ran back into the store, a smile lighting up his hazel eyes.
**
Kermit started shutting down his computer, ready for his lunch with Annie Blaisdell. It had been a while since he had seen her.
A ringing phone stopped him as he pushed the button to turning off the machine. Picking up the phone, he answered, "Griffin. What do you…No, wait!" The caller hung up the phone.
Replacing the receiver haphazardly, Kermit grabbed for his Desert Eagle and briskly left his office. "Chief! Got a bomb threat at the mall. Just came in on my line."
Th low noise that usually filled the squad room stopped as all officers looked up.
"Broderick! Call the fire department and bomb squad. Skalany, call the mall and have them evacuate the building. We can't take the chance this is a false alarm." Frank Strenlich, Chief of Detectives, ordered. "Powell, you, Kindcaid, and Kermit get over there. Let's get some marked units over there."
They all sprang into action, each going to their assigned duty. Kermit volunteered the Kermitmobile, his green Corvair. A warning look from the ex-mercenary broached no argument from the other two officers.
**
Walking into the train store, Peter went back ten years. Seeing the different sizes of trains and buildings sent his heart soaring. Along the wall was a track that went the entire side of the store. Makeshift hills and dells were created for the train to go up and down. Railroad crossings lowered their arms as their red lights blinked off and on. Miniature cows and sheep stood in makeshift pastures. The locomotive pulled its cars, and gave an occasional deep toot and chug-a-chug as the train made its way around the track. Children of all ages stopped to stare at the train, wishing theirs would look something like this one day.
Peter couldn't help but touch the various cars on display. Even years ago, when Paul had brought him here and instructed that he should touch only what he was going to buy, Peter couldn't help but touch, then smiled as he remembered that his foster father not following his own words.
The depots had been moved to the front of the store. Some were long and one story, while others were two or three stories. Each had large doors in the back of the building for loading and unloading of cargo. The one that caught Peter's eye was the long one with "Seaboard Railroad Lines" written across the front. It looked just like the one that Paul had been born. Peter looked out the store window as he reached for his prize, to make sure Annie continued to be safe. He worried about her, even though he knew she would be all right by herself.
He wasn't sure why the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Looking around, he didn't see anything unusual. Feeling his back pocket, he reassured himself his wallet was still there. Shaking it off as just a cop habit, he started walking to the cashier with depot in hand.
The intercom system message was muffled in the store as the crowd of shoppers talked and bargained for their pieces. A telephone ringing made the cashier stop the current transaction while he answered it. The mall manager told him of the emergency evacuation, causing the young man to call for his supervisor. The teenager had been hired only for the holidays and didn't want to call a false alarm.
Peter's became more aware of the action around him. Looking outside, he saw Annie trying to make her way to the store, alone. Shoppers weren't paying any attention to her, instead bumping and pushing her around as they moved toward the building exits. He was still unaware of the message that his mother had heard. *Neiman's must be having a sale,* Peter thought as the other shoppers hurried by the store, giving little space for the woman walking with a white cane.
The explosion was forceful, blowing over everything and everyone. What used to be harmless tracks and trains, now became missiles of destruction. Sheet rock and metal bent outward toward the unsuspecting shoppers, killing some, maiming others, and injuring most of them. Glass store windows blew outward into the corridor, along with the inventory of the store, again biting into flesh, regardless of race, or sex.
Most ran screaming from the carnage, ignoring the pleas for help from those injured in the blast. Others attempted to help those who needed it, finding cloth to stem the flow of blood caused by projectiles. One man, who had not been caught in the blast, assisted the woman he had seen walking with a white cane. "I'll help you," he yelled, taking her arm, not knowing why she was pulling away.
"No, I have to find my son." She jerked away, ignoring another blast further down the mall, which was followed by more screams. Her only thought was for Peter.
"Please, lady. We need to get out of here." He grasped her arm, squeezing it tighter, determined to help the handicapped woman.
A third explosion rocked the building, destroying the second-story balcony, sending both Annie and her rescuer to the ground level along with other fleeing victims. A single scream escaped Annie's lips as she fell in the darkness, her worst nightmare coming to life. She landed on the broken concrete head first as other layers of rubble and people landed atop her, forcing her mind to recede into unconsciousness.
Kermit, Powell, and Blake rushed into the crumbling mall, ignoring the protests of firemen. Flashing their badges, they gave a brief, "We were ordered here to help with survivors."
"Where could they be?" Powell asked as they made their way through the smoke and dust-filled building. They stepped around a life size Santa mannequin who was now missing his head. Sparks shot from the deer that danced from lighted wires as the sprinkler system turned on. Fires were slow in building as the sparks landed on the tents in the center isle of the mall. Candles that once burned in containers had been knocked over, now burned carpet and furniture.
"You two check the food court. I'll check the second floor; Peter mentioned he was going to see if he could find a piece to Paul's railroad. I'll meet you back over at the food court." Kermit raced off to the escalator that now stood still. One escalator was blocked by what used to be a piece of the ceiling; the other had only shards of glass and wood, and a wooden silhouette of a deer.
Running carefully along the balcony closest to the stores, Kermit made his way to the Rail Shop. It was littered with people lying in the isles and over counters. Some were obviously dead, while others were severely injured. Looking briefly down to the ground floor from the hole in the second-story floor, Kermit watched as firemen and medics dug victims from the rubble and tagged them as either dead or alive. The dead would remain in the building; they had time right now to get only the living out.
Finding Peter was not hard. He had gone head first through the glass in the display window, while his lower body had stayed in the store. Dark and bright red blood mingled as it ran down his face and into his hair to drip onto the floor below him. A slab of tile covered his back. His right arm draped through the window, his fingers almost touching the ground where the depot he had selected sat, unscathed by the destruction around them.
Firemen and medics made their way through the various stores. Two were carrying a backboard. Kermit persuaded them to tend to his friend first by showing them his badge.
Rolling over the injured officer, the medics worked to stabilize a piece of track that had embedded itself into Peter's chest. A low moan escaped his lips, then a cough that was followed by bright pink bubbly liquid, spurring the medics to working quicker to extricate the victim.
"M-Mom?" Peter breathed out as another and yet another cough sent him into a spasm of pain and more pink liquid welled up from his mouth and around the track.
Kermit brushed blood-soaked hair from Peter's forehead as he tried to soothe his friend. "Don't worry. Blake and Jody are with her. It's going to be all right. Just relax." Kermit silently prayed that he hadn't told Peter a lie, that Annie was fine and alive.
The firemen carried Peter to the triage tent, with Kermit close on their heels, forgetting about meeting his fellow detectives, only concerned with keeping Peter still and alive.
Tagged as critical when they made it to triage, Peter was loaded onto the next available ambulance and rushed to a hospital, with Kermit never leaving his side.
"K-Ker…" Peter tried to talk, but his body screamed for him to just breathe in the oxygen that was supplied by the mask over his face.
"Kid, you need to be quiet. The only way they'll let me ride in this rig is if you do as I tell you, OK?" Kermit took Peter's slowly closing lids as a yes.
"M-Mom?"
"Don't worry. She's fine. You have to relax, OK? I'll call Paul when we get to the hospital and let him know what's happening. Blake will take care of Annie." Another lie. If Peter ever found out, he'd never forgive Kermit, but it was a chance the ex-mercenary had to take.
Swallowing around the taste of blood as another spell of coughing tried to clear the lung that was rapidly filling with fluid, Peter tried to make sense of the nightmare, tried to wake up. It had to be a nightmare, because it was dark and nightmares could only exist in the dark. Maybe Kermit could wake him up. "Wh-why is it-it s-so d-dark?"
Kermit looked at the medic beside him, then at the lights that glared overhead, heating up the inside of the ambulance faster than the heating system could. He watched as the medic finished hanging another bag of IV fluid, then shined a penlight into Peter's eyes; the medic watched for any reaction, then shook his head.
Pushing down rising fear and anger, Kermit held Peter's hand, squeezing it gently. "Don't worry. It'll be light soon. Hang on, Kid."
Peter's eyelids fluttered, then closed, as more blood left his circulatory system and entered his lung. The force pushed the other lung, causing it to slowly collapse.
The paramedic marked the trachea as it moved from the middle of Peter's throat to the left, knowing that within minutes the young man would stop breathing. Pulling out the equipment needed to intubate his patient; he looked at the man wearing sunglasses. "Try and hold him still."
Kermit kept a grasp on Peter's hands while the medic removed the oxygen mask and explained to Peter what he was fixing to do. Next, a metal blade with a light at the end, was passed into Peter's mouth after the medic placed Peter's head in a better position to see the slowly deviating airway. Peter gagged as the blade made its way to the back of his throat to hold open the flap to his airway. He pulled weakly against Kermit as next a plastic tube was passed into the trachea.
The ambulance stopped having reached its destination at the ER doors. The back doors flew open as the medic attached an inflated bag to the tube and squeezed, forcing air into Peter's badly damaged lungs.
Doctors and nurses took over Peter's care, leaving Kermit alone in the corridor, praying for a miracle.
Kermit signed the routine hospital admission papers, along with consents for treatment. Time dragged interminably as minutes seemed like hours while Kermit waited on any news about Peter. Finally, a blood-splattered man came out, harried by the demands of treating multiple victims from the disaster. His name-tag dangled by a clip on his lapel, Dr. Mark Harrison. "Caine? Anyone here with Peter Caine?"
"Me," Kermit spoke up. "I'm a friend." "Does he have any family?" The doctor sounded grave, making Kermit nervous.
"Yes, but they aren't here. His mother was in the explosion, and I've called his father. He's snowed-in in Chicago. How is he?"
"I won't mince words, he's in critical condition. His lung collapsed as the other one filled with blood. I have placed a chest tube in for that. What concerns me are the contusions to his brain."
"Contusions? Is that why he couldn't see in the ambulance?"
Nodding, the doctor fidgeted with the tie of his pants. "Have you heard of Shaken Baby Syndrome?"
"Yeah, that's where the baby's brain bangs around inside its skull and causes it to swell." Kermit knew this from a case another detective had worked on, where a baby had died because it's stepfather had shaken it to get the child to stop screaming.
The man's mission was accomplished; the baby would never cry again.
"That's right. Your friend is suffering from the same problem. We are giving him IV diuretics to help reduce the swelling. They'll be moving him to ICU and placing him on a ventilator for at least twelve hours to give his lungs a chance to heal. You may want to see if you can get his family here." Having told his bad news, the doctor hung his head with exhaustion and sadness, and walked back into the ER, wishing he could have delivered good news instead.