by N R Brooks
I pondered things I would have done differently. Maybe things I could have avoided and yet still stopped the attack. If I had only meddled less, could I have prevented the ultimate destruction at the end? Or was the fact that I saved the lives of all those people the reason everything came to an end? I thought maybe I could still stop the attacks and have a different outcome. When my thoughts came to that point, I had to find something to do. It was tempting to start my mission again. The only problem was, I still had no idea how I kept ending up back in 1998. All I knew was it happened during one of my migraine episodes. The actual trigger was still unknown to me. It just wasn’t worth the risk.
My Walkman also had an am/fm radio on it so the few trips I made into town I would sometimes listen to see if there was any word of the black hole objects appearing. I never heard anything about it which made me feel that my decision to live off the grid was right. By the summer of 2001, I had not heard a single thing about them and when I did travel into the city, I saw no boarded up or cordoned off sections. I took all of this as a good sign.
No matter how many signs I had that told me my decision was the right one, I still couldn’t stop thinking about those who meant the most to me. I missed them and living in isolation only made that feeling worse. It was almost torture. Two years had passed and the only human interaction I had was when I slipped a couple of bills to whoever was at the register of wherever I was purchasing something I needed. Even that only happened a handful of times throughout the year at most. For someone like me who prefers isolation, even we grow tired of it and yearn for the company of another human.
As the summer of 2001 began to draw to a close, my nights grew longer and more painful by the day. I found it harder and harder to fall asleep. When I did finally fall asleep, I was awakened by nightmares involving Keiko. On more than one occasion I was tortured with the dream I had so many years ago of piloting Flight 11 into the North Tower. Only this time it happened on an almost regular basis. Other times I would have dreams recalling that fateful day when the sky tore open and swallowed the earth and took my beloved Keiko with it, leaving me behind only to awaken in the park in 1998 once again. I began to wonder how many times I would have to relive this section of my life. How many times would I have to relive the death of my parents? Was I in an endless loop, destined to fill the world with copies of myself until one of us finally encounters another and destroys everything in some world-destroying paradoxical cataclysm?
Long ago I decided I needed a calendar. Being alone in the wilderness with no real sense of routine or schedule, it is easy to lose track of time. I began marking off each day in an almost obsessive fashion. The days and weeks went by and melded into months. The months transformed into years. I was growing older yet everyone else remained the same age. Sometimes I would sit and stare at the calendar for what seemed hours at a time. I often wondered if this isolation was driving me crazy. Coupled with the nightmares that were occurring at increasing frequencies, it wouldn’t have been a surprise if I was slowly spiraling in my own little personal hell to the depths of insanity.
All of my friends I had made I knew would be fine without me in their lives. Pops and Ian would make pizzas for who knows how long. Jeni would probably do something great with her life once she decides what that would be. David would be shooting tranquilizer darts into animals—not humans like a certain somebody. But Keiko was going to die, and I just couldn’t live with myself knowing that. The only thing that would save me from falling completely into total mental psychosis was just knowing she was safe. Whether or not her life included me was not what was important. Knowing that she could have at least a full life made up of her own decisions was what mattered. I had to do something. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I didn’t at least try to save her.
I battled with the idea in my head for days. It was already September of 2001 and everything was creeping up on me slowly. Every day that drew nearer was another day that I debated with myself over whether I should do something. The point of no return was drawing close, and I had to make my decision. If I waited too long, there would be nothing I could do. I was in the foothills of Idaho and would never make it to New York in time.
I wrote a large black X over the square on my calendar representing the 7th of September. Only four days remained until the fateful day. Ziad, Atta, and their obsequious gang of zealots were preparing to give their lives to Allah and to take the lives of innocent workers and family members, my Keiko included. I just couldn’t allow it. It was far too late to stop the attacks like I had done before, but if I left now, I might just make it in time to at least save Keiko. My mind was made up. The least I could do was give her the life she deserved. She meant everything to me. I may not mean anything to her right now, but I was able to make the decision. I was going to do it. If I didn’t, I would live the rest of my miserable life knowing that I did nothing.
It was settled.
I put on the cleanest clothes I had, ones I had washed in the creek only a few days earlier with soap and water. I groomed myself with my switchblade razor and tiny hand mirror. I still had a large wad of money since living alone in the foothills required minimal spending. I made sure I had the money I would need in my pocket; more than enough to get me to New York on a bus. I packed up only the bare necessities I would need in my backpack and stepped out of my little shack, closing the door behind me. I didn’t know if I was going to be back. I didn’t even know if I would get there in time. But I was going to try.
I took one last look at my little abode that I had created with my own hands. It had served me well but now I had one last thing to do. I turned around and began my long walk towards Canyon, the city of my birth.
Chapter 34
When I arrived in Canyon, I was glad to see that everything was still normal. No rumbling ground, no police tape and wooden barricades around any establishments, just good ol’ Canyon in its boring glory.
I made way for the Greyhound bus station. No stealing cars from myself this time. No, I wanted as little interaction as humanly possible. Ironic how I was just describing my need for the company of another person yet I was still avoiding them like the plague. At least on the bus, I could just buy my ticket, and hide in one of the seats, keeping to myself until I reached my destination.
I found the bus station, ordered my ticket to New York—a little over a three-day bus ride for only $130—and waited for my specific bus to arrive. I was somewhat startled to learn that my bus would be arriving in New York somewhere between 6:45am and 7:15am on the 11th. This was cutting it way too short, but still doable. I crossed my fingers that there would be no flat tires or engine trouble along the way. If so, Greyhound would be receiving a very hostile review from one particular passenger.
It was an excruciating wait for the bus as the one I needed to board wouldn’t be leaving Canyon until 6:45pm. I had been walking from the foothills for nearly a day to make it this far only to find out I would have to wait around for another half day just to board my bus. I was incredibly tired and needed some sleep. The bus would be just fine for that but staying awake until it arrived proved to be a challenge equal to the one I was going to be facing in a few days.
When the bus finally arrived, I quickly boarded, found a seat in the very back which spanned the full width of the bus and laid down. A small town like Canyon had few others that needed to board, so I was fortunate enough to have the entire back seat to myself. For this leg of the trip, I had all the way until Denver before I had to transfer to a different bus. This meant plenty of time for me to sleep. I ended up passing out before the bus even left.
When I had finally woken up and felt rested, we were just about to reach Denver. It turned out, I had slept for twelve hours which was surprising. The bus isn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but I would rank it slightly above sleeping in the back seat of a car for months on end.
I would endure two more bus transfers after Denver, once in Omaha, and the last in Chicago. I cou
ld have wandered off during the one to two hour stops to grab some food but my mind was fixated on reaching New York in time and hauling ass to the towers before 8:46am. Lady Luck was once again with me during this voyage as there had been no mechanical issues whatsoever with any of the busses thus far. The bus I boarded in Chicago was the last one until New York; it was also by far the tensest.
Every mile was a mile closer to Keiko. I had purchased a cheap digital wristwatch in Chicago so I could keep track of the time. I was able to sync it up with one of the new ‘Atomic Clocks’ that were all the rage at this time. That would give me the most accurate timing to keep track of.
When we made our last stop in Newark, I began sweating with anticipation. I almost wanted to just jump off the bus at that stop and run towards Manhattan, but that would have been incredibly foolish. Only one more stop to go and my ass was going to be running as if my own life depended on it. Instead, there was a life much more important than my own that was on the line. This would be even more motivation to push my physical fitness to the limits.
We left Newark a few minutes behind schedule. It was nothing huge, but to me, every minute mattered more than the last. The thirty-minute bus ride to our final stop on 42nd street in Manhattan ended five minutes late. This put me even more on edge, but I realized it could have been much worse. Thankfully there was not a single issue with any of the busses. Even if we were five minutes late, I considered myself incredibly lucky.
I rushed to the front of the bus to ensure I was the first person off. I tried to avoid being rude, but I had more important things to worry about than proper bus etiquette. Once we came to a full stop, the bus driver welcomed us to New York City, announced our arrival, and opened the doors for all the passengers to exit. I ran off the bus and went into the street to orient myself to my precise location. I was presently on 42nd street and 8th Ave. I closed my eyes and tried to remember all of the streets and everywhere Keiko and I walked during the time I lived here.
If I walk along 42nd over to 6th Ave, that will turn into Avenue of the Americas and pretty much take me all the way to W Broadway which leads almost directly to the twin towers.
I had my route laid out, I just needed to hustle. I wasn’t even sure I was going to make it on time anymore, but I wasn’t about to stop now.
I looked at my watch, it was 7:20am. I had less than an hour and a half until the plane strikes the North Tower where Keiko would be sitting at her desk. I realized that at this very moment she wasn’t at work yet, but probably already walking that way. There was no way to catch up to her in time. I set out running east on 42nd St until I saw the sign for 6th Ave. It would be nearly a straight line from that point.
I was in probably the best shape of my life right now after all the days spent at the gym plus the last two and a half years living on my own as a rugged mountain man in the foothills of Idaho. Cutting down the trees and building my tiny cabin did wonders on my body. Running was incredibly easy for me right now, but I felt as though I could still run faster. I realized that I still had my backpack on with all the things I brought with me. It was holding me back if only slightly. I needed every bit of speed I could get.
I stopped at an alley and saw a homeless man sitting next to a dumpster looking incredibly haggard and pitiful. I walked up to him and gave him my backpack with all of my belongings. Without saying a word, I resumed my run towards the towers. With the exception of my brief stall to rid myself of my backpack, it was nonstop running. I didn’t bother waiting for crosswalk signs to flash green. I ran across the street, nearly colliding with crossing traffic numerous times, getting every swear word in the book hurled at me, but not once did I stop.
When I crossed Spring Street, for a moment I considered running down the road and getting a glimpse of Pops’ pizzeria which wasn’t even open this early. This would have to wait. I had no time for detours. The towers were in my field of view, and it was getting ever closer to 8:46. I pressed on.
When Avenue of the Americas merged with W Broadway, I knew I was almost there. I was exhausted at this point, but I couldn’t stop. Not yet. Only a few more blocks and I would be there. I could catch my breath on the elevator.
I ran the rest of the way until I made it to Fulton Street where the towers stood. By now I was completely drenched in sweat, on the verge of hyperventilating and just wanting to sit down but I couldn’t. I still wasn’t there yet. It was 8:29am. By now Betty Ong, the flight attendant on the plane that was now being piloted by Mohamed Atta, was already on the phone with a customer service agent informing them of the hijacking. Forgive me Betty…I tried.
I ran into the ground floor lobby of the North Tower and found the express elevator that would take me up to the 78th floor sky lobby. From there I would have to take a local elevator up to the 95th floor. Thanks to the Christmas party Keiko and I attended in the previous timeline, I knew almost exactly where she would be located.
I jogged to the elevator I needed and impatiently pressed the button to go up. Those around me were giving me weird looks. They all were wearing business attire and carrying briefcases. They must not have been used to seeing a man drenched in sweat, breathing heavily and wearing clothes that would probably only look appropriate on a vagrant. I didn’t care at all about the looks.
I got in the elevator with everyone else who would be joining me in the sky lobby. It struck me like a ton of bricks that most, if not, all of these people in the elevator with me were probably going to die. I wanted to tell them to leave, to go home and take the day off. But I already knew what would happen if I meddled. I was already taking a chance by rescuing Keiko. I kept my mouth shut and tried to remove the thought of all of these poor people and what their fate would be mere minutes from now. I wanted to save them, I wanted to save everyone. I already had once, and it only resulted in humanity’s doom. I wanted to tell them sorry; sorry that I would fail no matter what I did. I only hoped that their families could forgive me.
We reached the sky lobby on the 78th floor much quicker than I had thought. The word ‘express’ was no lie. I looked for the local elevator that would have the least amount of people. The fewer people in the elevator car, the fewer stops on this section of the tower. I found the elevator I would take and ran inside, repeatedly jamming the button for the 95th floor. Fortunately for me, I was the first top. Everyone else in the car with me was probably going to one of the top floors. When I got out, I looked at the people who rode up with me and silently mouthed the words “forgive me” before taking off towards where Keiko’s desk was located.
I looked at my watch and saw that it was 8:37. Less than ten minutes to go. I had to hurry. I ran down to the corridor into the open area on the north end of the tower which was filled with office equipment and collapsible cubicle walls. I maneuvered through the maze of cubicles and looked inside at the people who occupied them. I knew the vicinity of her desk, but not the exact one. This area looked slightly different when I was last here at the Christmas party.
When I finally found her desk, I saw her sitting there typing away, completely focused on her work. I put my hand on her shoulder and said her name.
“Keiko, it is really you!” I said, still somewhat out of breath.
“Who are you?”
“No time, I need you to come with me, now!” I grabbed her arm and pulled her out of her seat to follow me.
“Wait, what are you doing? Who are you?” She said, not quite yelling.
“Just follow me! Please! We have to get to a lower floor.”
By now many of her coworkers were standing up in the cubicles, peeking over the tops of the walls to see what was going on. Nobody followed us, they just stood there staring.
Keiko didn’t put up any kind of struggle. I held her hand tightly so she couldn’t leave me and ran to the stairwell furthest from the north wall. I looked at my watch, it was now 8:41. Only 5 minutes. I was worried we wouldn’t make it.
“Why are we taking the stairs? There are elevators we ca
n take just over there.” She said as she trailed behind me.
“We can’t take the elevators. They aren’t safe right now. We have to hurry. Take your heels off, you can run faster.” I yelled just before we made our descent down the stairs.
She took her heels off and set them down beside the door and followed me in our hasty descent. I was skipping two or three steps at a time and counted the painted floor numbers on the wall. 95…94…93…92…
“Shit, I don’t think we are going to make it.” I was getting nervous. We just weren’t going fast enough.
“Will you tell me what is going on? Who are you? And why are you making me leave my desk? My boss is going to be pissed when he sees I am not there.”
“Babe, your boss isn’t going to say a thing. You will find out in a couple of minutes why you are coming with me. Just focus on getting to safety, please.” I was still counting the floors as I was talking to her. I didn’t even realize that I had called her ‘babe,’ and she either didn’t notice or just let it slide. Some habits never die.
81…80…79… I looked at my watch. The digital display showed the last digit changing from a five to a six. We had less than a minute to find cover.
We reached the 78th floor, the sky lobby with all of the elevators that went to this level. We had to get out of the stairwell unless we wanted to face an explosion of jet fuel and pressure from the impact that was coming in under a minute.
“Go through the door here into the sky lobby. We have to get out of the stairwell, now.” I opened the door to go into the sky lobby and made her enter first.
I followed behind her and ran to a section that was far enough away from both the stairwell doors as well as the elevator doors. Once the plane hits, those doors will turn into projectile missiles from the explosion above and the shockwave traveling down the elevator shafts. I pulled Keiko in front of me and guided her to a storage closet that was around the corner from the elevator lobby and told her to get down on her knees. I got in the closet with her and got down next to Keiko to shield her from any potential falling debris.