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Chapter TWO

I duck behind the freezer and cover my ears, waiting for the whole building to come down. There's a lot of crashing, but not as much as you'd think, and nobody is screaming.

Finally there's a sudden, thick silence. The car must have stopped. I look over the pass-out bar at the cooks, and they're staring toward the front, mouths open. We all stand there for who knows how long-two seconds? five?-and then there's a really loud, long crash and somebody screams.

We all rush to the front. I shove open the swinging doors and we peer out.

"Holy shit," somebody says behind me.

The place is so demolished it's hard to even tell what's what. The car has pushed through the front door, taken out the counter by the cash register, a couple of booths along the window and several tables, and come to rest at the far wall with debris all over it.

But the worst thing is that the car took out a support beam or something, because half the roof has fallen down in front, leaving a great big hole. We can see blue sky through it.

I reach in my pocket with shaking hands, grab my phone and dial 911. "A car came through the building at Billy's Restaurant on Platte and Circle," I say, and my voice is wavery. "Hurry. I think people might be dead."

And that's when it hits me. I run into what used to be the restaurant and see people crawling out from under tables. "Virginia!" I cry, trying to think where I saw her last. Was she by the cash register? "Virginia!"

I hear a muffled cry near where the front door used to be and leap over some debris to get there. Shattered glass of all sizes litters the floor, glittering and shining. A sugar dispenser is on its side, and scattered yellow packets of Splenda are confetti on every surface. A pile of wood and metal hides the spot where the booth and cash register counter were.

Or maybe that is the counter. My heart squeezes so hard I'm afraid it will burst.

I kneel down urgently. "Virginia? Are you there?"

"Help!"

"Oh, my God." I start pulling shattered pieces of wood away, looking to see where she is. Behind me there are other cries, and I think about the people who sat by the window. Are they alive?

But I have to get Virginia out before I do anything else. Frantically, I fling away everything I can, and then there's a guy standing next to me, putting a hand on my arm. The hot one Virginia intercepted at the door.

"Whoa. Slow down," he says, and there's confidence in his tone. His hand falls on my shoulder. "You don't want to crush her."

My hands are shaking, along with my entire insides, which have turned to jelly. "Right, right. How do we get her out? Help me!"

He's a tall guy. Rugged but lean, with glossy brownish-blondish hair that's too long. He takes a second to look me in eye, straight and clear. The color of his irises is startling enough that I notice even under these crazy circumstances, blue with green mixed in, very bright.

And kind. "Don't worry," he says in a deep, warm voice. "We'll get her out."

I nod.

He squats, looking at the mess as if he knows what he's doing. I call out, "Virginia, are you okay?"

"My arm is stuck! I'm freaking out."

"Hang on," I tell her. "We're going to get you out."

The guy points at a big piece of wall. "Let's get everything off that, and then we can probably see if anything else is on her."