window.
“There is a third stairwell. We don’t know if it’s passable,” my father said, “but maybe it’s even better and everybody has evacuated down that one.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” I felt relieved.
“Or perhaps they’re now taking people off the roof by helicopter,” he said.
“Do you think that could happen?”
“It’s more of a possibility on this building because it doesn’t have the communications tower at the top. There’s even a helicopter pad.”
“There is?” Why hadn’t he told me that before? We could have gone up and waited for evacuation.
“But it hasn’t been used for years. I’m not even sure it’s still functional. Besides, with all the smoke I doubt a helicopter could land, and if it could the last thing they’d need is one more person to evacuate.”
“Don’t you mean two more?” I said, pointing at myself.
“One. If I
was
going back up it would have been by myself. I’m not risking your life.”
“And I wouldn’t have let you go up without me.”
“I thought of that. Besides, I didn’t think I could let you go anywhere without me. You’re more important than anything in this building … anything in this world.”
I felt taken aback by what he’d said. I guess I sort of knew he thought that, but to hear him say it out loud was different.
“So, it’s decided. We have to keep going down. Together. I just hope we can let somebody know—the police or the Fire Department—so they can get up the stairs or get a message up to the people up top, just in case this was the only way down.”
I felt a renewed sense of relief. There was no way I wanted my father to go back up there by himself, and there was no way that I was going back up there with him. I knew my father well enough to know that he wasn’t just saying empty words. He had really been contemplating, figuring, planning what needed to be done to help those people, including that stupid guy who hadn’t listened to him, who had basically taunted him and refused to evacuate. He didn’t deserve to be saved … but he didn’t deserve to die, either.
“We’ll just go down as fast as possible. We’ll keep on trying to get a call out, or maybe we’ll meet some emergency personnel coming up the tower and we can tell them.”
I thought back to the interview with the fire captain. It was going to be a long time before any firefighters would be able to climb this high.
“We’ll just go down a few more floors and then try to find a phone that—”
My father stopped mid-sentence. He’d heard what I’d heard—or thought I’d heard: a faint voice calling out.
CHAPTER
TEN
We both stood there, no words exchanged, knowing that we had to silently wait and listen. It came again, a voice. Soft and barely audible but there.
“I think it’s coming from the offices on this floor,” my father said, pointing at the door.
He reached over and put a hand against the door. We both knew that the door would be cool, but I was glad he was being careful. He grabbed the handle and went to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. He pulled harder.
“Is it locked?”
“It could be, but I don’t think so. I think it’s jammed,” he said.
The door itself looked fine, no buckles or bends or dents, but the frame seemed crooked, as though the wall had shifted over.
“Help me. Grab the handle.”
I grabbed on to it beneath his hands.
“Now, on three. One, two,
three!”
I strained with all my might and the door held firm. I put my foot against the wall and used my entire body to try to muscle it and—it popped open, sending me flying backwards, my grip on the handle the only thing that saved me from tumbling down the stairs. I put a hand down on the soaking-wet landing and got to my feet.
I peered through the doorway. It was darker than in the stairwell and it was difficult to see clearly what was there. Suddenly a beam of light stretched out and through the darkness. My father had turned on
“There is a third stairwell. We don’t know if it’s passable,” my father said, “but maybe it’s even better and everybody has evacuated down that one.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” I felt relieved.
“Or perhaps they’re now taking people off the roof by helicopter,” he said.
“Do you think that could happen?”
“It’s more of a possibility on this building because it doesn’t have the communications tower at the top. There’s even a helicopter pad.”
“There is?” Why hadn’t he told me that before? We could have gone up and waited for evacuation.
“But it hasn’t been used for years. I’m not even sure it’s still functional. Besides, with all the smoke I doubt a helicopter could land, and if it could the last thing they’d need is one more person to evacuate.”
“Don’t you mean two more?” I said, pointing at myself.
“One. If I
was
going back up it would have been by myself. I’m not risking your life.”
“And I wouldn’t have let you go up without me.”
“I thought of that. Besides, I didn’t think I could let you go anywhere without me. You’re more important than anything in this building … anything in this world.”
I felt taken aback by what he’d said. I guess I sort of knew he thought that, but to hear him say it out loud was different.
“So, it’s decided. We have to keep going down. Together. I just hope we can let somebody know—the police or the Fire Department—so they can get up the stairs or get a message up to the people up top, just in case this was the only way down.”
I felt a renewed sense of relief. There was no way I wanted my father to go back up there by himself, and there was no way that I was going back up there with him. I knew my father well enough to know that he wasn’t just saying empty words. He had really been contemplating, figuring, planning what needed to be done to help those people, including that stupid guy who hadn’t listened to him, who had basically taunted him and refused to evacuate. He didn’t deserve to be saved … but he didn’t deserve to die, either.
“We’ll just go down as fast as possible. We’ll keep on trying to get a call out, or maybe we’ll meet some emergency personnel coming up the tower and we can tell them.”
I thought back to the interview with the fire captain. It was going to be a long time before any firefighters would be able to climb this high.
“We’ll just go down a few more floors and then try to find a phone that—”
My father stopped mid-sentence. He’d heard what I’d heard—or thought I’d heard: a faint voice calling out.
CHAPTER
TEN
We both stood there, no words exchanged, knowing that we had to silently wait and listen. It came again, a voice. Soft and barely audible but there.
“I think it’s coming from the offices on this floor,” my father said, pointing at the door.
He reached over and put a hand against the door. We both knew that the door would be cool, but I was glad he was being careful. He grabbed the handle and went to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. He pulled harder.
“Is it locked?”
“It could be, but I don’t think so. I think it’s jammed,” he said.
The door itself looked fine, no buckles or bends or dents, but the frame seemed crooked, as though the wall had shifted over.
“Help me. Grab the handle.”
I grabbed on to it beneath his hands.
“Now, on three. One, two,
three!”
I strained with all my might and the door held firm. I put my foot against the wall and used my entire body to try to muscle it and—it popped open, sending me flying backwards, my grip on the handle the only thing that saved me from tumbling down the stairs. I put a hand down on the soaking-wet landing and got to my feet.
I peered through the doorway. It was darker than in the stairwell and it was difficult to see clearly what was there. Suddenly a beam of light stretched out and through the darkness. My father had turned on
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