building and suddenly understands the gravity of the situation. ‘Oh Christ! Spike! We’re going!’
They turn and run.
The building falls.
~ * ~
16
The sound is a thundering, biblical roar, like the world is coming to a conclusion.
Judd runs as fast as he can, the only escape route straight ahead as there are buildings to the left and right. Corey is three metres ahead, Spike in front of him and pulling away.
The roar behind Judd grows louder. He glances back as the building’s wall of black windows smash into the street like a tidal wave breaking on a beach. The torrent of concrete and steel and glass rolls over Bowen’s body and surges onward. If they’d tried to move him they would not have survived.
The rubble keeps coming, seems to gather speed. Judd turns forward, tries to lift his pace. He doesn’t think he can outrun it, doesn’t think Usain Bolt could outrun it.
He can’t see Corey or Spike. Where the hell are they? The roar is deafening now. He looks back again, wishes he hadn’t. The rubble is right at his heels. He can’t outrun it -
A hand yanks him left, into the recessed entrance of a car park as the river of debris thunders past like a runaway train, the noise echoing off the buildings. It goes on and on - then stops abruptly.
Judd turns, sees Corey, then Spike between them. The astronaut exhales, relieved beyond all measure. ‘Thanks, man.’
Corey grins his crooked grin. ‘We’re even.’
~ * ~
A solid cloud of grey dust hangs over the road as Judd and Corey emerge from the car park entrance. Judd holds his hand over his mouth and nose, remembers how dust from the Twin Towers made so many sick after 9/11. Corey follows suit.
They turn back to where the CNN building once stood and see a thick column of the same grey dust rise in its place. Judd looks up at the sky. The usual smog that hovers above the city is darker now, fed by columns of black smoke. It dulls the sun, casts an eerie orange pall across the city.
People emerge from surrounding buildings, scared, stunned and confused. Something strikes Judd as odd. Usually, if this happened in the middle of a major city, ambulances and fire trucks and police cruisers would quickly converge on the scene with engines roaring and sirens blaring. But there are no emergency vehicles to be seen and no sirens to be heard. The only sounds are the regular thud of explosions, some distant, some close, which are, he is sure, vehicles detonating. Something terrible is happening in this city, something that makes the collapse of a large office building almost inconsequential.
Corey turns to him. ‘Why is this happening?’
Judd thinks it through. ‘It’s the engines, isn’t it? Before that police cruiser exploded it sounded - strange, and its exhaust was purple, right?’
‘Yeah. As it accelerated it got darker, turned black right before it blew up.’
‘That must have something to do with it —’
A flash of yellow to the right. Judd turns, notices a school bus fifty metres away. He looks closer. There are children on board. Lots of them. It turns down Sunset Boulevard. Judd shifts position, focuses on its exhaust.
It’s a light purple colour.
‘No.’
‘What? What’s “No”?’
‘We’ve got to stop that bus.’
‘Bus? What bus?’ Confused, Corey turns, follows Judd’s eye line, catches sight of the school bus - and sees its purple exhaust. ‘Oh, that bus.’
Judd takes off after it and Corey follows, Spike just behind. They circumnavigate the debris field and sprint towards Vine Street.
It is horrifying.
The street is littered with the twisted, flaming hulks of vehicles which loom through the smoke haze. Worse, there are burned bodies everywhere, many still alight. The bus swerves past a series of blazing wrecks, then slows as it reaches a bottleneck where two abandoned cars almost
They turn and run.
The building falls.
~ * ~
16
The sound is a thundering, biblical roar, like the world is coming to a conclusion.
Judd runs as fast as he can, the only escape route straight ahead as there are buildings to the left and right. Corey is three metres ahead, Spike in front of him and pulling away.
The roar behind Judd grows louder. He glances back as the building’s wall of black windows smash into the street like a tidal wave breaking on a beach. The torrent of concrete and steel and glass rolls over Bowen’s body and surges onward. If they’d tried to move him they would not have survived.
The rubble keeps coming, seems to gather speed. Judd turns forward, tries to lift his pace. He doesn’t think he can outrun it, doesn’t think Usain Bolt could outrun it.
He can’t see Corey or Spike. Where the hell are they? The roar is deafening now. He looks back again, wishes he hadn’t. The rubble is right at his heels. He can’t outrun it -
A hand yanks him left, into the recessed entrance of a car park as the river of debris thunders past like a runaway train, the noise echoing off the buildings. It goes on and on - then stops abruptly.
Judd turns, sees Corey, then Spike between them. The astronaut exhales, relieved beyond all measure. ‘Thanks, man.’
Corey grins his crooked grin. ‘We’re even.’
~ * ~
A solid cloud of grey dust hangs over the road as Judd and Corey emerge from the car park entrance. Judd holds his hand over his mouth and nose, remembers how dust from the Twin Towers made so many sick after 9/11. Corey follows suit.
They turn back to where the CNN building once stood and see a thick column of the same grey dust rise in its place. Judd looks up at the sky. The usual smog that hovers above the city is darker now, fed by columns of black smoke. It dulls the sun, casts an eerie orange pall across the city.
People emerge from surrounding buildings, scared, stunned and confused. Something strikes Judd as odd. Usually, if this happened in the middle of a major city, ambulances and fire trucks and police cruisers would quickly converge on the scene with engines roaring and sirens blaring. But there are no emergency vehicles to be seen and no sirens to be heard. The only sounds are the regular thud of explosions, some distant, some close, which are, he is sure, vehicles detonating. Something terrible is happening in this city, something that makes the collapse of a large office building almost inconsequential.
Corey turns to him. ‘Why is this happening?’
Judd thinks it through. ‘It’s the engines, isn’t it? Before that police cruiser exploded it sounded - strange, and its exhaust was purple, right?’
‘Yeah. As it accelerated it got darker, turned black right before it blew up.’
‘That must have something to do with it —’
A flash of yellow to the right. Judd turns, notices a school bus fifty metres away. He looks closer. There are children on board. Lots of them. It turns down Sunset Boulevard. Judd shifts position, focuses on its exhaust.
It’s a light purple colour.
‘No.’
‘What? What’s “No”?’
‘We’ve got to stop that bus.’
‘Bus? What bus?’ Confused, Corey turns, follows Judd’s eye line, catches sight of the school bus - and sees its purple exhaust. ‘Oh, that bus.’
Judd takes off after it and Corey follows, Spike just behind. They circumnavigate the debris field and sprint towards Vine Street.
It is horrifying.
The street is littered with the twisted, flaming hulks of vehicles which loom through the smoke haze. Worse, there are burned bodies everywhere, many still alight. The bus swerves past a series of blazing wrecks, then slows as it reaches a bottleneck where two abandoned cars almost
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