by Akart, Bobby
Cort didn’t know if Congressman Pratt had already exited the wreckage. He was concerned that the sixty-something-year-old man, who was pushing three hundred pounds, might be in trouble. Cort did what he knew was right, setting aside any political differences the two men might’ve had, and the threat to his own life his decision meant.
After taking his life vest off, Cort shed his jacket and removed his tie. He kicked off his shoes and took a deep breath. Then Michael Cortland did something he almost didn’t live to regret.
Chapter Forty-Three
Times Square
New York City
Tom and Donna stood arm in arm as the clock ticked a minute closer to midnight. In another three minutes, the twelve-foot-diameter geodesic sphere would begin its sixty-second descent to the bottom as millions of people prepared to count down the final seconds. Then they’d give their loved one a kiss for good luck, perhaps toast a glass of champagne, and belt out the words to “Auld Lang Syne.”
The ball was covered with nearly three thousand Waterford crystal triangles in varied sizes ranging from four to five inches. Television cameras couldn’t capture the enormity of the sphere that weighed in at twelve thousand pounds.
For this New Year’s gala, the triangles included eight hundred eighty-eight special cuts representing the spirit of peace and kindness. The pattern resembled an Adonis blue butterfly, with its four brilliantly-colored blue wings that graced its body.
Of course, Tom and Donna couldn’t see this design clearly, as the thousands of LED lights that illuminated the ball generated millions of vibrant colors and patterns, creating a spectacular kaleidoscope effect.
Mesmerized by the appearance, Donna hopped a little out of sheer excitement as her eyes were affixed to the ball perched nearly two hundred feet above them. Tom also stared upward, waiting for the ball to begin its descent.
That was when he caught a glimpse of something flying up Seventh Avenue directly toward them. He wiped the moisture away from his eyes, caused by the snow flurries that pelted his face. The object was getting closer, and then suddenly a second one appeared next to it, flying in formation about a hundred feet off the ground.
His mind raced to the many conversations he’d had with Willa about drone warfare. She’d told him that the United States might be the master of the remotely piloted aircraft, like the Reaper and Predator drones, as a tool of modern warfare, but terrorists were becoming adept at using commercial drones to level the playing field on a smaller, more localized scale.
Tom shouted to his wife, “Donna, we have to go!”
“No, why? It’s just a couple more minutes.”
“No! There’s no time. Come on!”
Tom jerked her arm and began frantically forcing his way through the crowd toward the Jersey barriers. People shoved back, but not out of hostility. The entire evening, they’d been accustomed to being pushed and shoved.
Tom persisted and began issuing verbal commands. “Please move out of the way. We have an emergency!”
“Tom! Why? What’s wrong?”
He heard the drone buzz over their heads. He ignored his wife’s pleas, and when he reached the Jersey barriers, he straddled one and helped his wife climb over. He looked around for cover. Bubba Gump was closed, as was the Levi’s clothing store adjacent to it.
He pulled Donna as close to the store’s entrance as he could and tried to force himself through a packed group of people crowding the entrance to the Hard Rock Café. They wouldn’t budge.
“This way!” he shouted, reversing course as he tried to shove through the masses to turn down Forty-Forth Street. They reached the corner just as the one-minute countdown was about to begin. The air around Times Square was filled with the sounds of shouting revelers eagerly anticipating the moment that people around the world had waited for. The noise was deafening, and the revelers distracted, so they never noticed the drones buzzing over their heads.
Two quadcopters carrying contact explosive devices raced toward their target. They were designed to detonate violently when exposed to a relatively small amount of energy created by sound or, in this case, pressure and friction.
As the quadcopters collided with the sphere, the nitroglycerin contained within their payload exploded, easily shattering the Waterford crystal that encapsulated the ball, sending millions of shards of glass fluttering downward upon the shocked crowd.
The sounds of explosions were heard in all directions, causing a chaotic stampede as over a million terrorized revelers sought protection.
Tom quickly assessed the situation. Blowing up the ball was most likely not the terrorists’ goal. The visual of frightened Americans coupled with their dead bodies being trampled was.
“Dirty bombs,” he mumbled to himself as he stared into the sky between the skyscrapers. “Come on, Donna, there’s not much time!”
They were running with the crowd now, doing their best to hug the wall and avoid getting knocked over. None of the businesses were open. They needed to get back to the hotel, but the long city blocks prevented them from taking a direct route.
Tom led them under an awning and tucked into a doorway. He contemplated waiting there, but the wind was blowing too hard They kept moving as more explosions rocked the vicinity of Times Square, setting off car alarms, which joined the cacophony of sirens from police and fire vehicles.
Suddenly, Donna fell to the ground and screamed in agony. “My ankle!”
She’d turned her ankle on the edge of a sewer grate and crashed into the stampeding mob. Tom tried to help her up, but he was knocked over too. The collapse caused a chain reaction that looked like it was straight out of a Three Stooges movie, except it wasn’t funny.
Those who were frantically chasing the rest of the crowd fleeing Times Square couldn’t see what had happened in front of them. They all crashed into the pile of bodies strewn about the sidewalk in front of 1155 Avenue of the Americas, the Durst property remodeled after the turn of the century. The granite sidewalks proved to be much harder than concrete as people’s heads struck the ground during their falls. Tom and Donna were now covered in a bloodied, panicked mass of injured revelers.
Donna moaned for assistance. “Tom, help me. I can’t breathe!”
Hearing his wife in distress, Tom Shelton disregarded his age. He stood and began dragging bodies off his injured wife, slinging them about like they were rag dolls. This resulted in more people tripping into the bunch, but Donna was free of the pile. He helped her under the entrance to the massive office building, where they were able to catch their breath.
Tom found a scarf on the ground and gave it to his wife. “Wrap this around your mouth and nose. Do not breathe the air, okay?”
She did as he requested and then looked around. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know, but from what I can see, this is what the apocalypse looks like.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Near Anacostia Station
Washington, DC
Hayden’s feet were screaming in pain from the unusual way she was walking along the Metrorail toward the south side of the Anacostia River. Her feet, however, were the least of her concerns at the moment. She was still alone, and now the tunnel was filling with smoke.
The DC Metrorail trains were powered by seven hundred fifty volts of electricity running through cable to third rails that run parallel to the two main rails. Insulators affixed to the concrete section that held the track kept this third rail off the ground. As the train traveled along the track, the train shoe extended outside the train itself, made contact with the third rail, and provided power.
When the power failure occurred, a surge shot through the third rail and created a stray current, a continuous flow of electricity beyond the third rail’s normal capacity. This stray current instantly generated an enormous amount of heat and interacted with the insulators holding up the third rail, which resulted in a series of tiny fires up and down the tracks in the tunnel.
Hayden came a
cross the fires as she made her way through the tunnel, but they were not a threat to her safety. The smoke, on the other hand, had become a real problem. Not only did it obscure her visibility, but it was stealing the oxygen from the confined space.
Hayden took her chances with the unsure footing and made her way to the bottom of the railbed next to the walls of the tunnel. The smoke was floating toward the ceiling, and traveling along the lowest possible point helped her breathing. She pulled her left arm out of her coat sleeve and used the cashmere material to cover her nose and mouth. Her eyes were still watering, but she was able to move faster now.
After fifteen minutes of walking up a slight incline toward the other side of the river, she heard voices ahead. Some people were talking excitedly while others were crying. The smoke began to dissipate, and she assumed she was nearing the Anacostia station.
Instead, she found a group of passengers huddled under a ladder affixed to the wall that led up through the smoke. The group huddled at the bottom consisted of Hispanic women and children.
Hayden wasn’t sure how to approach the group. They didn’t appear to be in danger but, rather, frightened. As she slowly closed the gap between them, she glanced upward. The ambient light from above ground allowed her to see the smoke pouring through the open space.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she approached the group. One of the women was cradling a toddler while another one seemed to be tending to another child’s leg.
“They all left us here,” one of the women replied. “Some kept going and others climbed up the stairs. Nobody was willing to help us.”
Hayden returned her arm inside her jacket, as the air had cleared thanks to the opening. She pointed up the ladder. “What’s up there?”
“The ladder leads to a vent shaft,” the woman replied. “The children are too weak to climb. This young one fell and sprained her ankle. I cannot carry the little one and go up the ladder. We fear it is too far to walk along the tracks; plus, we heard screams ahead.”
Her added comment reminded Hayden there was a predator lurking around in the dark behind them. If they moved forward, they could be walking into trouble. If they stayed here too long, her assailant would be upon them, and he’d take out his furor on these innocent people, especially her.
Hayden raised her voice so she could get their attention. “Ladies, listen to me. Can you climb up?”
“Yes, but the children—”
“I understand. Now, please wait here and stay calm. Let me make sure it’s safe, and I have an idea. Can you stay calm for me?”
“Yes, but please do not leave us. The men left us.”
“Don’t worry. Just wait until I return.”
Hayden didn’t hesitate. She looked back in the direction of the stalled train in the pitch-black tunnel, then adjusted her jacket and briefcase. She began her ascent up the ladder. With each rung, the smoke cleared, and fresh air hit her lungs. When she reached the top, the ability to breathe deeply was exhilarating and gave her a much-needed second wind to help those below her.
She climbed through the steel doors that had been flung open by other passengers. The vent shaft opened up into an empty field surrounded by dormant, tall grasses and leafless trees. Off in the distance, she could see a low-rise office building with a few lights burning.
She turned around and around, attempting to get her bearings. She could hear the roar of automobile traffic on the Suitland Parkway. She quickly spun around as a car alarm began to blare behind her. She then positioned herself so that the freeway was to her left and the car alarm was to her right. After taking into consideration the direction the track was following, she determined which direction was south, where Congress Station was located.
As her eyes adjusted from the smoke-filled tunnel to the outside, she was able to see lights off in the distance. A good sign. She assessed her options. The fact that the power was on both relieved and puzzled Hayden. What could cause the power to the trains to be cut off, but not the rest of the area?
She set aside her curiosity and looked up toward the light snow that continued to fall. She removed her coat and briefcase and set them to the side. A chill immediately came over her body, but she had no choice. She’d promised to help. Hayden immediately climbed back down the ladder, hoping that the women and children had not been joined by anyone else.
Chapter Forty-Five
Six Flags Great Adventure
Jackson, New Jersey
An hour after the coaster came to a screeching halt, rescue workers from the park had made their way to the uppermost platform of Kingda Ka. Inside the top-hat-designed structure on which the Rankin family was stuck with other passengers, there was another ride known as Zumanjaro, Drop of Doom. The drop tower featured three gondolas integrated into the Kingda Ka ride.
Zumanjaro was the world’s tallest drop tower, featuring a floorless gondola with seating for eight. The cars were hoisted within the Kingda Ka loop, then dropped in three successive falls at ninety miles per hour.
At the moment the power was lost, Zumanjaro was being reloaded at the bottom, so no riders were stranded. Once park emergency personnel dealt with crowd control at the base of Kingda Ka and formulated a plan to extract the passengers, the rescue effort was underway.
Tyler was impressed when a fire chief as well as a firefighter arrived on the platform at eye level to their stuck coaster. Chiefs usually gave direction and certainly didn’t climb forty-five-story ladders.
They climbed up the enclosed safety ladder, which rose from the ground to the top of the ride, utilizing ten interconnected platforms in between. The chief addressed the group first, with the firefighter illuminating his face and upper body with a flashlight.
“Everyone, can you hear me all right?”
“Yes,” the group responded in unison.
“Good. My name is Chief Simpson with Jackson Township Fire and Rescue. First, let me ask if anyone is injured or needs priority medical assistance.”
Nobody answered.
“Okay, I’ll take that as a no. Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you. The coaster cars will not derail. Let me repeat this. It is physically impossible to derail under these circumstances. The only danger you will face is forcibly removing your restraints. Sadly, that wasn’t understood clearly enough by some.”
“How are you gonna get us out of here?” a woman shouted her question.
“We have a couple of options, and park engineers are coming up with the best possible solution. We have removed the other coasters from the track at the bottom of the ride, so your car is the only one that’s left.”
“Does that mean we can just ride to the bottom?” asked a man toward the rear of the coaster.
“Not necessarily,” replied Chief Simpson. “The engineers are doing their calculations now. You see, without any electricity, the ride is unable to apply brakes before you round the last ninety-degree curve to enter the ride’s loading station. Without a way to slow your descent, a whiplash effect could cause permanent injury as the coaster speeds through the final series of S curves before slowing on its own.”
“Chief, my name is Tyler Rankin, a firefighter and EMT from Richmond. Are there Coast Guard rescue choppers available? Their baskets could handle an extraction.”
“Hello, Mr. Rankin. Yes, and we’re working on that. Without going into unnecessary details right now, but a lot has happened on the East Coast this evening, and it’s all hands on deck for first responders and our Coast Guard.”
The questions rained down on the chief.
“What happened?”
“Were we attacked again? Like 9/11?”
The chief held his hands up in an attempt to calm the passengers down. “I understand you have a lot of questions, and so do we. But for now, I hope you’d agree nothing is more important than getting you to the ground safely, right?”
“Yes, of course,” said Angela.
Other passengers voiced their agreement.
“Good
. Now, let me tell you what we have in mind. We have a team of specialists headed over here from Fort Dix. The Coast Guard Atlantic Strike Team has personnel specifically trained for rescue operations with specialized equipment to handle situations like this one.”
“Great!”
“When will they be here?”
“Like I said, they are en route, but there are some things we can do to get ready to work with them.”
“I think we can handle it, right, everyone?” asked Tyler enthusiastically.
The flashlight left the chief’s face for a moment as three more firefighters joined them on the platform. Each was carrying a long stretch of nylon rope and was toting a large stuffed duffle bag.
Once the three firefighters unloaded their gear onto the platform, they caught their breath and listened to the chief assess their options.
Tyler leaned in to Angela and whispered, “The choppers aren’t coming, and we don’t want them to release the brake.”
“I thought he was a little too optimistic about the coaster staying on the rails. But even if it does, he’s right about our bodies being unable to handle the speed through those sharp turns. Every one of us will suffer whiplash or worse.”
“Agreed. I think they’re going to extract us up here and get us over to the platforms.”
“How?” she asked hesitantly.
“My guess is the chief is about to add a new ride to the scariest theme park on earth.”