by Cross, Amy
Dr. Stef Grant
Today
"Steady!" Cooper calls out as the boat slowly drifts toward the side of the quay. With rough waves making the operation much more difficult than we'd anticipated, and with our suits making our every move more cumbersome, it's clearly not going to be easy to step from the boat to the concrete steps that line the edge of the water. "Try to hold it steady!" Cooper calls out again, turning and waving at Sutton. "Remember the drill!"
"Just jump already!" Sutton calls back to him.
After taking a moment to steady himself, Cooper finally makes the leap, landing hard on the steps and immediately stumbling onto his hands and knees. He clambers up the concrete and climbs over the metal railing, before turning back to watch as we get ready to follow.
"Go," I say to Lacey, watching as she seems uncertain about whether she should follow. "Just go!" I tell her, trying not to seem too irritated by her dithering. We haven't even made landfall yet, and she's already starting to bug the hell out of me.
Slowly, Lacey climbs to the edge of the boat and jumps onto the steps, and Cooper helps her as she struggles to climb over the railing. Gretchen follows, making the whole process look disarmingly simple.
"Break a leg!" Sutton calls out from the cabin.
"Geronimo," I mutter, before jumping and landing near the others. Like Cooper, I fumble the landing a little and end up on my hands and knees, but I quickly get to my feet and make my way up the steps and over the railing until I join the others on the wide, open path that runs along the southern edge of the park.
"Back to the holding position!" Cooper shouts at Sutton, who has already started to maneuver the boat a little way back from the shore. The idea is that he's going to keep a watching brief, monitoring the shoreline and making sure to be ready for an evacuation at a moment's notice. If it comes to it, we might even have to swim back out to him, although that would be a tall order while the water's so rough. There's a fine mist hanging in the air, making everything feel slightly damp.
"Are you sure he has to go back out like that?" Lacey asks nervously. "Wouldn't it be better if he stayed close, just in case we need to get out of here in a hurry?"
"We won't need to get out of here in a hurry," Cooper says firmly, "and Sutton says the weather's too choppy for him to stay close to the shore. He needs to go further out. Don't worry. He's going to pick us up at 5pm, just before the sun goes down."
"Sure," Lacey says, smiling nervously.
"Okay," Cooper says eventually, his voice muffled a little by his suit. "Welcome to America, everyone. Let's just focus on the job at hand, and not allow ourselves to get distracted. The company didn't pay us to come for a vacation. We've got a checklist of things to get done, and there's no point dawdling. If we can get ahead of the plan, I'm happy to leave early, but we're going to be here for the best part of a week so let's start as we mean to go on. No bickering. No in-fighting. No heroics. Stick together, work as a team, and make sure you've got each other's backs."
Turning, I look up at the skyscrapers. We're standing on a large open piece of concreted land, surrounded by a series of small buildings and stalls. Nearby, the concrete gives way to a section of grassland, as if this was once some kind of waterside park. As I expected, there's no sign of anyone nearby, not even dead bodies. It's as if all the people in New York - hell, all the people in America - just vanished, leaving their world behind. The question is, where did they go? And why?
"No radiation spikes," Cooper says, checking his hand-held monitor. "Background radiation is within normal parameters, maybe even slightly below what you'd normally expect to see."
"Are you sure that thing's even working properly?" Lacey asks. "Most electronics are kinda fucked up right now."
"It's the best we've got," he replies. "It seems to be responding normally, but you're right, we can't trust it completely. Still, the pills we took earlier should give us some protection." He pauses. "It's going to be a lot easier to get about if we're not weighed down by these masks. If everyone's in agreement, I'm going to suggest that we remove them."
Without waiting for Lacey or Gretchen to voice an opinion, I remove my mask, finally feeling the cold breeze on my face. I take a deep breath of early morning Manhattan air, which turns out to be surprisingly clear. Cautiously, the others also remove their masks and set them down on the ground.
"Smell that?" Gretchen says, taking a deep breath. "The crisp odor of early morning Manhattan. Minus the relentless smog, of course."
"There's no radiation," I say, taking a couple of steps toward the grass. "If there had been any kind of radioactive release, this grass would have been affected." Crouching down, I run a gloved hand over the very tips of the blades of grass. "There'd be discoloration," I continue. "Whatever happened, it wasn't a nuclear event."
"You seem pretty damn sure of that," Lacey says nervously.
"I am," I reply, looking up at the skyscrapers and desperately searching for any sign of life. "Does this look like a place where everything went to shit?" I continue as I get to my feet. "There's no sign of chaos. There aren't bodies in the streets. This was more controlled. There was a plan."
"Care to elaborate?" Cooper asks, walking over to join me.
"I didn't say I had all the answers," I remind him. "I'm just giving you my honest opinion."
"So the entire country shut up shop and disappeared?" Lacey asks. "Overnight?"
"Maybe all the New Yorkers just popped out of existence," Gretchen adds with a smile.
"We didn't come here to argue," Cooper says firmly. "We came to get a first impression of what the hell's going on, so that's what we're going to do. I want to remind you that we're sticking together at all times. There'll be no wandering off, no taking the initiative. We don't have any way of keeping in touch, so we stay close and remain in each other's line of sight at all times. I know I keep saying this, but it's worth repeating. This isn't a time for heroes. We're scientists, so let's act rationally and do our job."
Walking away from the water's edge, I quickly reach the grass. I can't help looking up at the nearby tower blocks, scanning the windows in case there's some kind of movement. It's hard to believe that an entire city could be empty, and I guess my human instinct is still convinced that at some point there'll be some kind of sign. Still, as the cold wind continues to blow across the open space, and as a light rain starts to fall, the city seems extremely desolate.
"Here's what we're going to do," Cooper says as he catches up to me. "We're going to head north through Battery Gardens and then we're going to find, I think, Broadway. We're going to use that as our focal point, like a kind of spine moving up through the island. It's as good a starting point as any, and I figure our best bet is just to keep going north and see if we find anything of note." He turns to me. "Are you good with that plan?"
I nod, before turning and seeing that Lacey is hanging back a little, as if she's scared.
"Are you okay?" I call out to her.
"Totally," she replies, trying to smile. "I just... You guys are in the driver's seat. I'm just here to keep an eye on things, remember? That's why the company sent me. Just pretend like I'm not really here."
"That's gonna be hard if you keep talking," Gretchen tells her, rolling her eyes.
"I mean it," Lacey continues. "The company has utmost faith in your abilities. All of you. They just sent me to monitor things and eventually report back."
I glance at Cooper, and I can see a hint of concern in his eyes. We haven't talked about it, but I'm pretty sure that he and I share a healthy level of mistrust when it comes to Lacey. I mean, she's done and said nothing to make us dislike her, but I don't think either of us likes the feeling that we're being watched. When the company hired us for this mission and told us that we'd have to bring an observer to monitor our actions, we accepted it as a necessary part of the situation. That doesn't mean, however, that we have to like it.
"You can't slow us down," Cooper tells her. "One of the precond
itions was that you'd stick with us. If you're hanging back, you're endangering the mission. There's going to be a lot of walking. If you're not fit enough, you need to tell us right now so we can come up with an alternative solution."
"I'm not hanging back," she says defensively, "and I am fit enough! Don't worry about me! I'll be fine!"
"Then prove it," he replies, turning and walking across the grass. "Keep up!"
"Come on," I say, feeling a little sorry for her. "It's not so bad. Let's just stick to the plan, huh?"
Nodding, she hurries over to me and we start following Cooper. It's clear that Lacey is terrified, and I keep expecting her to turn and run, but to her credit she's able to stick with us as we walk toward the nearest road. The rain has started to fall a little more heavily now, but I figure we can't let a little bad weather hold us back. After all, we crossed the Atlantic in a rusty old boat, so we've already faced worse.
"I'm cold," Lacey says eventually. "Not that I'm complaining," she adds quickly, "I just... I just thought I'd mention it."
"Me too," I reply, hoping to set her mind at ease. "If that's the worst that happens while we're here, I'll take it."
She smiles, and this time it seems genuine.
"We'll be back on the boat well before nightfall," I continue. "Don't worry, there's no way we're going to spend the night on dry land. This place is so damn chilly even during the day, I wouldn't want to risk the possibility of hypothermia."
"We're not insured for being on the island at night," she replies.
"Well," I say, "I guess that settles it." We continue to walk for a moment, with Cooper still a few paces ahead. "I know I'm not supposed to ask," I say eventually, "but when the company sent us here, what exactly were they thinking we'd find?"
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"They must have some kind of expectation," I continue. "I mean, it's costing them money, and they must have an objective. That's the one thing I've never really been able to understand. Why not just wait for the European governments to decide what to do?"
"The company has no patience for the wheels of political bureaucracy," she replies. "If we wait for the EU to make a decision, nothing'll get done before Christmas. You know what they're like. The company needs answers as soon as possible."
"At least they we able to get permission for us to come out here," I point out. "I kinda thought there was no way any of the governments would let us come."
"Huh," she replies awkwardly.
"They do know we're here, right?" I continue.
"It's complicated," she replies.
Stopping dead in my tracks, I grab her shoulder and force her to turn to me. "This mission is above board, right?" I ask. "The company didn't just send us without proper authorization, did they?"
"Of course not!" she says, as if it's the craziest idea in the world. "There's loads of paperwork. Everything's rubber-stamped and signed and sealed, all that jazz. It's just that none of the governments could decide how they should react, but they were perfectly happy for the company to take responsibility. You know what it's like, right?"
"Keep up!" Cooper calls back to us, having got to the edge of the park and finally noticed that we've fallen behind.
"Sorry," I say, as Lacey and I start walking again. "I didn't mean to sound paranoid. I just didn't like the idea that maybe this was an unauthorized expedition."
"Well, it's not," she replies testily. "It's fully authorized. The company paid for all the necessary permits. The whole thing's above board. I could have shown you all the documentation before we left, if you'd asked. The company would never, ever cut corners."
"I'm sure," I mutter. "After all, why would they lie?"
"That must be where Broadway starts," Cooper says, pointing across the road.
"Listen," I say, turning and looking over at some nearby buildings. "There are really no sounds, are there?"
We stand in silence for a moment, and it's true: the whole city seems to be shrouded in an ominous hush. The only noise comes from the occasional rustling of our protective suits, plus there's a faint background hiss caused by the light rain as it fall on the grass.
"Let's not get spooked by this place," Cooper says. "Don't let your minds wander. It'd be way too easy to start imagining things, okay? Remember the psych briefing we had before we left. Even the strongest mind can start to go a little crazy when faced with something extreme, and I think this situation definitely counts as extreme. It's only natural for your imaginations to start filling in the gaps, but you need to stay focused." He turns to me. "Got it?"
I nod.
"Got it?" he asks Lacey.
"Totally," she replies.
"So it's settled," he continues. "We'll make our way along Broadway for a few hours and just see what we find. Remember to stick close to one another, and no-one's allowed to go wandering off." With that, he turns and starts walking across the wide, empty street. Lacey and I exchange a worried glance before heading off after him, and the three of us begin our walk into the heart of the empty city.
Caroline Jones
Fifteen days ago
"John Lydecker!" I shout, hoping that this time the deaf old woman might actually hear me. "He lives in apartment 23, across the hall!"
"Apartment 23?" the old woman replied, frowning. "No, I'm sorry, it can't be! That's where Mr. Lydecker lives!"
"I know!" I shout, trying not to let my exasperation boil over. "I'm trying to find Mr. Lydecker! Have you seen him around?"
Still frowning, the old woman shook her head.
"When was the last time?" I ask.
"Knock on his door!" she replies, before smiling politely and stepping back into her apartment. The door slowly swings shut, leaving me standing alone in the corridor.
"Thank you for your help," I mutter, before wandering back over to the door to apartment 23. There seems little point in knocking yet again, since it's clear that Lydecker is either out or dead. The last thing I want to do is go bursting into the stench of a decomposing body, but anyway, I'm fairly sure he's not in there. The corridor definitely doesn't seem to smell bad, and when I put my nose against the keyhole, there's nothing unusual. Maybe I'm just keen to ensure that I don't have to see a dead body, but I'm pretty damn certain that Lydecker's rotting, decomposing corpse isn't in the apartment.
"Great," I mutter, remembering how Mendez told me not to go back to the office until I'd found the bastard. To be honest, knowing my boss's unpredictability, I'm kind of worried that he might fire me if I return empty-handed. He clearly doesn't hold me in very high regard, and he has a history of using grand gestures to make points to the rest of the workforce. It took me six months to get that job, and I'm damn well not going to let John Lydecker get me fired just because he can't be bothered to turn up for work. If Mendez wants me to find that little asshole, then I'm damn well going to find him.
Grabbing a notebook and pen from my bag, I tear out a page and place it flat against the door before starting to write a quick note, informing Lydecker in no uncertain terms that he needs to get his ass to the office immediately. I have no idea whether he'll pay any attention to such a note, of course, but I figure I have to try. The guy's always been a total ass-hat and there's a part of me that worries he's less likely to turn up if he thinks he can get me fired by staying away, but I guess I should be a little less cynical and hope, instead, that there might still be a sliver of humanity in his cold heart. Once I've finished the note, I fold it in half and tuck it under the door, before taking a step back and realizing that I don't have any more options. All I can do is maybe loiter nearby and hope that I spot Lydecker coming home. Fat chance, but it's my best shot.
Taking a seat in the cafe opposed Lydecker's apartment, I order a coffee and grab a newspaper from the bench. Frankly, I can't shake the feeling that this entire situation is ridiculous. I'm supposed to be a junior investment analyst at one of the city's leading private banks, so why the hell have I been sent out to look for a colleague who c
an't be bothered to show up for work? Flicking through to the back of the newspaper, I start idly looking through the job adverts, figuring I could always use a switch to a new position or even a new career. At this point in time, I'd take pretty much anything that's on offer.
"Tough day?" asks a voice nearby.
At first, I barely even notice that someone's trying to get my attention. I'm not used to random strangers starting conversations with me in coffee shops, so I just assume that he's talking to someone else.
"Sorry," he continues, "I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll let you get on with that."
Glancing over at the next table, I see a middle-aged, besuited guy with a cautious smile, looking directly at me. The first thing I notice about him is that he's got piercing light blue eyes; the second thing is that he has the kind of chiseled jawline and rugged good looks of a guy who might as well have been specifically designed to hit on women in coffee shops.
"I..." Pausing, I realize I have no idea what to say. I'm terrible at small-talk; right now, my brain is freezing up, and I'm pretty sure I must already seem like an idiot. Within a couple of seconds, I realize I've already left it too long to reply, which means that this insanely handsome guy must have already pegged me as some kind of idiot.
"Sorry," he says again. "I really don't make a habit of this kind of thing. I just heard you sighing a few times, I thought maybe something was up."
"Sighing?" I ask. Was I sighing? I don't remember sighing, but I suppose I might have been. Come to think of it, I guess I was sighing in my head, but I had no idea they were coming out in real life too. "Sorry," I say eventually, "I didn't mean to..." Before I can finish the sentence, I realize I'm blushing. Damn it, I'm not this kind of person: I don't meet guys randomly in coffee shops, and I can't hold a casual conversation to save my life. I need to reset my brain.