The Final Day (After, #3)(103)

“I think it might be broken,” Grace replied. “They should have sounded it by now.”

“Should I go to the shelter?” she asked.

“If you would feel more comfortable,” Grace said smoothly. “If you want, I’ll walk you there.”

“Okay.”

Grace took another step up, reached out, and put a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder and then looked down at Buster. “I have a bear almost just like him,” she said warmly, and there was genuine emotion in her voice. “Mine is named Winnie. How did Buster get his name?”

Laura instantly began to choke up, tears coming to her eyes. “They kept telling me that they would go back and get our dog, Buster, and bring him here, but they never did.”

She started to cry, and Grace gently embraced her.

“Come on, let me help you to where the shelter is, but you’ll have to show me the way.”

She nodded, sniffing back tears, clutching tight to Buster.

John struggled with his own emotions. The frightened girl was the same age as his Jennifer. At least the same age as Jennifer was when she was still alive … and dying.

Something she said forced the question he had to ask, sensing that if there were going to be straight answers, it would be here and now from this girl.

“How did you get here, Laura? You haven’t always lived here.”

“Some men came to our school and called out my name and those of a few other kids. And now I’m here.”

John knelt down in front of her, looking up at Grace, shaking his head slightly for her to wait. Grace picked up on the signal, stopping in place, a protective arm around Laura, holding her tightly to reassure her.

“Can I see Buster?” John asked. Laura reluctantly held him out, and John took him.

It was nearly impossible to keep his own emotions in check. The scent of the stuffed bear, the worn fabric, a bent ear that had obviously been stitched back into place. For a moment, in his heart, Buster was Rabs.

He kissed Buster and handed him back to Laura with a whispered, “Thank you.”

She snatched him back, but her eyes were on John. “Are you okay, mister?” she asked.

John could only nod.

“He misses his daughter,” Maury said, voice thick with emotion as well.

“Where is she?”

“She’s back home in North Carolina,” Maury quickly interjected, sparing John from giving a more honest answer.

John took a deep breath and forced a smile. “So you were in school, some men came in, called out your name, and you left with them. Is that it?”

Laura nodded.

“Where did you go to school, Laura?” Maury asked.

“Sidwell Friends in Washington.”

“And why did the men take you out of class?”

“It was all kind of scary. We all knew the men. They work for the Secret Service.”

“Secret Service?” John asked, startled but trying to not let it show.

“Yes, sir. They’re always there because the president’s kids go there too. The men are very nice to us, though it’s a bit scary at times since we all know they have guns on them. One of them would always sit in the back of the classroom where the president’s kids were in class. Out on the playground, they’d even bat some balls for us, so we all knew them.”

“So the Secret Service men took you out of your classes?”

“Did anyone else go with you?” Maury interjected.

“Yes, sir. About twenty or so. They said we were going on a special trip.” She clutched Buster a bit tighter. “They let me bring my backpack, and I had Buster in there, so he came with me.”

“And then what happened, Laura?”

“We went out to the ball field behind the school, and there were two helicopters there, and they had me get on board.”

“Just you?”

“Oh, no, sir. About twenty kids or so.”

“The president’s kids as well?”

“No, sir. We thought it strange, but they were left behind.”

“And then?”

“We flew here. It was a fun ride. The Secret Service men told us to buckle in tight, that it was going to be like a roller-coaster ride, and it sure was. My friend Becky threw up all over the place.” She smiled at the memory.

“Where did you go on this ride?”

“Here. We landed outside, and they had us run in here. It was a bit scary; there were some men with guns outside. They had us get into the backs of a couple of trucks and brought us down inside here.”

“Laura, when did you take this helicopter ride, and how long have you been here?”

She looked around, suddenly a bit nervous. “We were told we’re not supposed to talk about it, sir.”

“Laura.” It was Grace now, bending over to face the girl at eye level. “It’s okay, sweetie. You can share it with us. Mr. Matherson trusts you, and I do too.”

Laura was silent for a moment, and tears began to well up. “It was a scary day. We were taken to what they call the shelter here. All day long, more kids were coming in, parents, some old people. I had to put on a large name tag that hung from my neck with my parents’ names on it.

“Finally, I saw my mom with my two little brothers. She had one suitcase for all of us”—she paused, welling up—“but Buster, our dog, wasn’t with her. She was crying and told me that Daddy was safe but in another place. Then they told us they had to shut off all the electricity for a day, except for emergency lights, and we all slept in the shelter area.”