Black Box 86ed (15 page)

“Ha, it’s not falling if you never land,” she smiles back.

Passing comets and meteors, a satellite flies by no longer tethered to earth. I look out into the cold, dark emptiness. The stars and light that once came with them gone from the sky. I look out into pitch darkness, once filled with the colors of planets and moons now just dark balls of dirt. They have no direction, no path to follow. Nothing to keep them safe and warm. Nothing to show them where to go, to take them and almost magically keep them.

My knuckles turning white as I try to pull Grace closer to me.

“We’ll die Grace, we’re going to freeze to death.”

Taking another puff off her nearly gone cigarette. “The sun always thinks it’s cold outside.” She smiles as she softly blows the ash off the tip of the cigarette and buries it into my chest.

CHAPTER…

“Will, hey Will, wake up.”

“What?” I'm shaken awake by Grace. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You were talking in your sleep, you woke me up jerk. She whispers
”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Its ok you just seemed distressed, like it was a nightmare. I probably saved you dreaming self.” She smiles

It’s weird, I feel like I’ve just experience the most tragic thing in my life but when I saw Grace, it just… melted. I just feel so
... so cared for, so loved.

“What where you dreaming about?” She asks.

I try desperately to remember what I can only assume was a tragic nightmare. I dig and dig into my brain but it feels like trying to scoop out ice cream that’s just way too frozen.

“No idea, I can never remember them.”

“Well from how you sounded it’s probably a good thing anyways,” she smiles at me.

“Did I really sound that bad?”

“Well I wouldn’t say you were experiencing the end of the world or anything. It’s like you just got told you had to do a double shift or something like that.”

“Ha, that’s still pretty bad.”

“Well at least
I’m here to help.”
She adjusts herself sinking deeper into me. Filling every open
space like puzzle pieces we fit together, not a centimeter of open air between us. Then something catches her eye.

“What?” I ask

“Look, down the street.”

Following her gaze I look to about three men huddled in front a skyscraper at the end of the block.
They look like ants from all the way up here.

“What do you think they are doing?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to tell.”

“You don’t think they’re going around searching for people do you?”

“No, they look more like they’re
homeless than anything. They are probably just taking advantage of some free super nice digs.”

“I guess.”
She trails of
f, obviously a little scared and uncomfortable.

“Here, just think in an hour or two we’re gona look around and see what’s going down there. We’ll find the best way out and before you know it boom, the Chicago skyline will be in our rear view mirror. And I will have successfully escape yet another attempt of you trying to get me to go on that God forsaken fa
rris wheel”.

“Ohohoho you have won this time young grass hoper,” she laughs, the warmth of her breath soaking into my shirt.

CHAPTER…

I feel the sun burning through my eyelids. I squint out my left eye to
it refl
ecting off the skyline to me.
The building rumbles.

“HEY, Get the fuck
up!”

“What, what’s wrong?” I yell.

“Look down at the street,
” Roger barrels at me.

I jump
off the couch pressing my head against the window I look to the street below. It's an all out battle, the rebels pushing the army down the street to the right.

“Holy hell, this is not good,” Over cries.

“What do we do we're trapped!” Grace exclaims.

My head still pressed to the window I can feel the gunfire vibrating the glass.

“They're surrounded, I mean me n Grace saw some guys go into the building behind them earlier,” I tell them.

“Which one? I don't see anyone shooting from behind them.” Over says.

“I don't know their where definitely people in that building,” I say pointing to the end of the block.
Suddenly fire and smoke explode out of the base sending shock waves up through the entire building.

“O my God!”
Over exclaims.

We all watch stunned as the high rise, all sixty
floors slowly start to crumble under its own weight. Looking to the street we watch in horror as all the men in military uniforms run for their lives. Sprinting into the oncoming gunfire
,
nowhere else to go. Rubble spewing out of the base of the building and through the lower windows as the building slowly tip
s
towards the street. A thunderous sound as the men below scram
ble to get out of the way all while they are torn up by the enemy they are running to. The building in full freefall crashing down eclipsing about two hundred
men as they run for their lives. A deafening boom followed by an earthquake of concrete and paperwork. Ash and rubble fly into the air blocking the street from view. Waiting for the dust to settle the gunfire has ceased, as we hear
boisterous cheers coming from the street below.

“I don't believe it!
Did they really just use an entire building as a weapon?” Roger asks in disbelief.

“We need to get out of here
!” Grace cries her voice cracks in terror.

“Yes, we need to move it now,” I agree.

“Where do we go? The militia is still outside and who knows what’s going on around the other streets. We won't make it two
blocks before we get caught up in it.” Over interjects

“Ya but it's either that or wait till the floor comes out from under us,” Roger remarks.

“Get your things now, we’re leaving,” I tell Grace.

“Wait now hold on a minute we need to think this through,” Roger tries to say but I cut him off.

“I can't risk just sitting here waiting to die. W
e are going to go if you want to you are more than welcome to come with.”

“Where are you going to go?” Over asks the fear in his voice very clear.

“North, we are going to go north. If the militia attacked Union Station first that means they probably came through either the south or west so all we have to do is get ahead of them and we will be out of the line of fire.”

“Ya but if you head north you'll be going more into the city!”

“I know but I don't think we have much of a choice.” I retort.

“Grab your bag and let’s go,
” I order to Grace. She quickly races to the corner grabbing her purse.

“Wait, wait we'll come with,” Over exhales. Roger quickly gives him
a condemned look. “I
have no clue what to do, this seems like the best plan we have.”

“Jesus alright,
” he concedes.

Reaching into my pockets I take out my menthols and pull one out. Leaning over I pick up the handgun off the end table. I quickly chamber a bullet. “Everyone make sure you’re locked and loaded before we go. I would be surprised if we don't end up using them.” I say staring down towards the street the dust only half settled.

“Do you really think we can get out of here?” Grace asks fumbling with her purse
.

“I know we will, without a doubt. Y
ou will be just fine I’ll make sure of it.”

She squeezed me as if this will be the last time she will ever hug me.

“Ok.”

“Alright we're ready,
” Roger tells us as him and Over walk up.

“Ok let’s go before the military send reinforcements... or worse.”
Over leads us out the door into the dim hallway. Lights flicker as we make our way down to the elevator.
Over holding it open for us we run
in. The light flickers above us as the doors close.

“Wait, wait why the hell are we taking the elevator?”
Grace points out.

“Uh I didn’t really put much thought into it,” Over shrugs.

“It’ll be a hella lot quicker,” Roger says pressing the first floor button
as the soft music from the speaker’s serenades us. The elevator doors slowly close and we begin our decent. The light flickers blackening out the small room and bringing it back to life in an instant.

“O god we’re gona get trapped.
This was stupid,” Grace cries.

“We won't don't worry.”

A soft rumbling enters the elevator; we all feel it at once making me seasick. Roger clearing his throat probably to take any fear from his voice. The elevator shakes wildly this time. The light going out completely.

“What was that?” Over yells.

“I don't know but it was dam close.” We stand in silence the slightest bit of light coming through the doors. The sound of metal and concrete bending and breaking faintly flows through the doors, as the elevator comes to a complete stop
.

“O god is it us?
Are they knocking us ov
er?”
Grace cries.

“Crowbar!”
Roger Orders to Over.

He rummages through his bag producing the crowbar we found last night. The squeals of metal bending as the entire elevator trembles. It feels like what I can only assume what the titanic felt like right before it broke in half.

Roger struggles with the door, bringing it to a few inches enough for Over and I to get our hands in and pry it open. “Come on,” I shout to Grace, she jumps through followed by Roger the
n Over, and me.

“I think we're on the second
floor,” Roger tells us.

Looking out the line of windows I can see the gaping hole in the line of buildings where
the tower fell. The skyscraper to the immediate left s
hifting its weight it appears to come to a stop, at least for no
w. The bulk of
its weight resting on the skyscraper
next to it. Hundreds of papers still floating
through the air.

“O thank god I thought for sure it was us going down.” Grace sighs.

“What now?”
Over asks looking out the window.
“There has to be a hundred guys out there still and all of them have assault rifles.”

“Get to the ground floor and we'll check the other side then” Roger orders.

Running to the stairs we sprint to the ground level. Making our way to the other end of the building we stop at the double doors. The fear of what’s on the other side sending a wave of shuffling feet and nearly pissed pants through the group.

“I'll go” I offer as I walk through the first set of doors. The street looks to be deserted; I press my head against the glass looking up and down the street. I turn waving them on. I slowly open the door.

“There,” Roger says pointing to a parking garage.

Running through and down three
deserted blocks we come to a clearing, and the end of downtown. It's more or less residential from her
e on, so no more buildings can fall on us at leas
t. We take off down the street,
crossing yard after yard for a few more blocks.

“Wait look,” Grace tells us. The parking lot is near full of cars but not a single person to be seen. “Why did they leave their cars?” She asks.

We walk slowly through the parking lot nearly filled with empty cars. Doors still open, walking past one with a
quiet beeping alerting the missing driver they left their keys in the ignition.

“What the hell this couldn't of happened more than a day ago,”
Over says.

We continue to walk into the park the trees giving shade to this eerie sight. I look down; a diaper bag sitting all alone on a park bench. Bottles of formula and baby wipes still inside. A shoe for a toddler sits on the ground, still tied but missing its owner.

“It's like everyone just got up and left.” I
remark.

“Or they were taken.” Roger retorts.

“What if it's true? What if the government is taking everyone to those camps?” Grace asks.

“I don't know but this is really creeping me out,
” I reply.

We continue through the park past the playground. The swings slowly floating back and forth pushed by the wind.

“How could this happen and we not hear about it?
How does
word not get out?” Grace asks.

“I don't know. I mean you would think some news agency would be reporting this stuff.”
Over replies.

“What did I tell you, it's all part of the same deal, the government controls the newsman. You think they would let something like this get out. Scaring everyone into not trusting them?”

“Ya but what about the internet?
”

“O ya, like, hey my family got kidnapped by the government hash tag prisoner of war.” Roger retorts.

“You see that?” Over asks. We turn to where he is pointing. A trail of dried blood on the sidewalk.

“Jesus Christ,” Roger exhales, following it down the path. Reaching into the parking lot on the other side of the park where it
suddenly stops.

“What happened? Did they shoot people who tried to get away?” Grace asks almost whispering to herself.

None of us answer her we try
to take in the incredible almost zombie apocalypse like scene.

“Look!” We follow Grace’s finger as she points to a warehouse. Its door swinging softly in the wind as a man lays at the bottom of its fr
ame half in half out.
Roger takes off at a dead sprint. Going against ever cell in my body I follow close behind. I can tell he’s dead from twenty
feet away. Roger leans down checking his pulse.