Skyfire Read Free Page B

The Upper West Side ramped up steeply at 59 th Street into the bustling corporate haven and tourist trap known as midtown Manhattan.  The buildings went from a light yellowish brown to brilliant and shimmering metallic silver, accented by the sun, which had now begun its descent.  I loved sitting on the balcony looking at this.   The Bank of America Tower, 30 Rock, the Empire State Building, 1 Penn Plaza, and countless other landmarks adorned the sky.   He scanned beyond midtown, beyond where the bedrock was strong enough to support such impressive, gargantuan skyscrapers, till his eyes had skipped over everything south of 23 rd Street. He was focused on the financial district now.  HOLY SHIT.  What am I looking at?
    Above the cluster of buildings hovered a storm system that did not look natural.  It was a misty, threatening collection of clouds forming into some sort of a shape.  Goddamn… What is that thing?   Whatever, I’m a fucking infantryman.  I can figure out anything.  His thoughts narrowed. Emma. Survivors.  Move it, Hughes.  All of this would not be so out of the ordinary considering all the recent freak weather phenomena, the hurricanes and monsoons and everything else,  but what was strikingly odd was that there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky otherwise.  It was a beautiful, crisp October day.  The only hint that anything was amiss were small columns of smoke emanating from various points across the city.  And now this cloud formation over Lower Manhattan.
    Trent felt ill from the stink of blood.  Goddamn it.  This was my favorite Jets shirt.  Funny how priorities work sometimes…  What the hell do I do now? There’s nothing left at home.  I need to find Emma…

 
    CALLIE
     
    “Show no love, cuz love can get you killed.” – Curtis ‘50 Cent’ Jackson (1975 – present)
     
    Callie Kennedy woke up somewhere freezing, dark and claustrophobic.  My head.  Christ.  What happened? So thirsty...  I need water.  She sat up quickly, smacking her head into the ceiling of the enclosure.  “Fucking shit!” She bit her lower lip.  She could taste blood.  It was pitch black and impossible to see anything. 
    “Hello!” Callie yelled into the blackness.  There was no response.  The sound did not fade as it should have, making her think she was in a small, very confined space.  Don’t freak out.  It’s going to be OK.   At least I’m breathing.   She felt around with her arms and feet, searching for any possible clues.  The areas directly behind, above, below, and to her sides all had the same cold, metallic feel.  The most uncomfortable sensation was the cold metal against the back of her head, made worse by her closely-shaven undercut hair.  Ten inches from her feet lay a similar metallic surface with divots, levers, and what appeared to be a simple mechanical assembly.  Why the hell am I barefoot?
    Callie kicked the mechanical assembly at her feet as hard as she could.  “Goddamn it!”  She winced in pain, then kicked it three more times, without regard for her foot. On the fourth kick, a small rectangular cover measuring two by three feet burst open.  Callie wiggled out of the cold, dark enclosure into the low artificial light of the room.  She felt a disturbing chill as she realized she was in what appeared to be a morgue.  What?  I’m not dead…  My head hurts and I taste blood in the back of my throat…
    She had no memories of the last few days.  A quick glance to her left wrist revealed her basic information, most likely garnered from her driver’s license.  Kennedy, Callie R; 6105 JFK Boulevard East, West New York, NJ 07093, 151-36-63XX.  I was at the hospital? Where are my clothes?  Callie examined herself and her surroundings.  She was in a dirty hospital gown. A chill swept over her, standing up all the hairs on her body.  I have to get the fuck out of here.  
    The hallway hummed with the low frequency of intermittent emergency