The screams woke him from his sleep. Keeping his eyes closed his mind registered where he was and the environment around him. The ground shook again, as it had been for the past few days and a glass from the kitchen had fallen and shattered. He opened his eyes to see the orange glow from the window. The fires were still going on yet the police sirens that where here yesterday had gone silent.
He turned the television on to see if anything was showing up. There was still the snow screen and the deafening sound. He turned it off and walked to the window, thirty floors above the city he looked down to see the sun rising above the smog from the fires. The riots were still raging on; once the computers crashed the city went right along with them. Maybe it was the world he couldn’t tell.
He walked to the kitchen to clean up the mess; all of the explosions were knocking down his dishes. The coup began three weeks earlier and had escalated into a national movement that bordered on civil war. The fighting slowly made its way across the nation and within days of starting in Washington, DC fighting began in New York. That’s all he knew, the internet had been shut down nationwide after a massive computer attack destroyed all military computers at the Pentagon.
There had been transmissions over the radio, but they were just random numbers that he didn’t understand. He walked past the table in the hallway that was days old, the headline reading “Fighting Ravages City, Evacuations Halted.” He turned the kitchen light switch on to see that a glass had fallen from the counter. He began to clean it up after he slid a pair of blue slippers on. Another explosion went off in the distance as he bent down to sweep the glass into the dustpan, a tear slammed to the ground as the silence resumed.
He walked back to his room to gather some clothes; he was going to take a shower and soon would be leaving his home for the first time in a week to look for his ex wife and their son. He hadn’t heard from either one since the cell phone signals were shut off three days prior. He walked to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror; he’d never been paler and realized it was the fear running through his blood. Sighing he stepped into the shower and turned the water on and let the steaming water fall over his face. Minutes later while he was finishing his was and violently scrubbing shampoo through his thick black hair the lights flickered for nearly thirty seconds. The water soon turned cold and suddenly shut off.
Walking out of the shower and grabbing a towel, he turned to the bathroom sink and turned on the faucet which also turned out to be empty, he then walked quickly back to the kitchen and the sink their also failed. He dried his hair and walked back to his bedroom, he stared at the red walls as he prepared his departure. Grabbing his bag he placed a day’s worth of food, a flashlight, his camera, a cell phone, clothes, and a knife.
He grabbed the keys to the apartment and looked out the window one last time in order to get a general idea of the outside world. There were dozens of fires coming from downtown Manhattan, luckily he was going uptown. He had overheard his neighbors saying that it was safer above midtown that was where the military was.
He turned around and faced the door, minutes later he walked out of the entrance of his building. The streets were filled with a light coating of smoke from the fires and a distinct smell from the teargas. Garbage was strewn about on both sides and almost every store was broken into, the Dunkin Donuts next to the building was on fire because the stove had been smashed.
He stood in the middle of the once popular street, now it lay lifeless and trashed with cars seemingly thrown about. No one was around yet there was yelling and shooting off in the distance, this grabbed his attention and he began to walk towards his ex-wife’s home twenty blocks north and on the other side of town. He began to walk and placed his camera around his neck; being a photojournalist he knew people were going to want to see the destruction of this vast metropolis. Snapping pictures he soon noticed two men staring at him with guns drawn.
He jumped and fell back over a garbage can that had been thrown in the street. The surrounded him and began asking questions. He soon realized they were the government and not the militia, he swiped his federal id and press badge over the portable scanner, the screen on it lit green and they let him go telling him to go north to Madison Square Garden where evacuees were being gathered and put on trains to leave the city. They warned him that the violence had increased and the militia was beginning to take hostages.
He walked away wondering how the conflict would end, he remembered a few years before when he was sent to photograph a terrorist attack on the Long Island Railroad where there were four suicide bombers in Jamaica, Queens and others throughout the city. Recalling that soon after the movement gained much popularity when the draft was called back into effect. He was one of the photographers during an interview with the leaders before the Declaration of War was set upon the federal government.
He could never imagine that it would become so violent and dangerous. Just then a jet flew over the island and dropped bombs alongside the FDR Drive. Gunshots rang out and soon men came running into the streets with large guns, he ran into a looted Duane Reade to hide and take pictures. Looking at the street sign reading 19th St. He heard cheering and shooting immediately before a loud screeching sound then a large explosion; the plane that had just flew over him was now in flames over across the river in Queens.
He decided to jump up and run for the next block over, they didn’t see him. Soon his run slowed back to a walk, it felt more like a hike. He no longer recognized the places he had grown up around, the smog was beginning to burn his eyes and the layer of ash flew in the air with every step. There were large fires in the small tenement buildings he loved so much, people were screaming from tall towers because they were trapped. Others lay dead on the floor from jumping out of the buildings or being shot to death.
He soon approached the Evacuation Center, knowing he still had to make his way north to look for his family. There were barbed wired gates and many people were sitting outside on the floor. It didn’t look welcoming and in fact it was reminiscent of third world prisons. He ran back before any guard could notice him and he continued his trek uptown.
There were more fires north of the city, and it seemed as if the government jets were doing more of the bombings than anyone else. He walked through Times Square to see that many of the buildings had been leveled. The New Years Ball lay on the street in millions of pieces and rats were running through the street in every direction. The Ferris wheel in the Toys R’ Us had fallen into the sidewalk, dozens of people crushed and killed underneath it.
Fliers were blown into the air when another jet flew over; he grabbed one and read it. It was an invitation to the first protest of the government. This occurred days before the fighting commenced and gained national attention because of the accusations of police brutality. He folded the paper and placed it in his back pocket and began to snap pictures of Times Square, which was now in ruins. As he began to leave there was a large explosion behind him blacks south. He couldn’t see but he thought it was Madison Square Garden because of the screams from so many people.
Flinching he continued to walk north along Broadway. Soon he made his way to the area where his son lived. He began to scream out his son’s name as a plane flew in from the distance. Minutes later he heard someone screaming as a door flew open. It was his son; they had gone to a neighbor’s home a block south. He turned around to see his son and ex wife standing in the middle of the street.
He started to run to his son and the boy screamed out because his mother wouldn’t let him run in all of the rubble. He tripped of a fallen street light and cut his hand; he gained his composure and looked up. He put his hands on the ground in order to push himself back up when there was the familiar whistling sound. He screamed as the metal object flew from the sky and pierced the New York City Street.
The explosion was greater than he could imagine, the street exploded from beneath them. He was flown from the ground further back and his child’s screams were cut short by the massive sound. He hit his head on the street and was knocked unconscious. The street now wore a massive hole and pipes bled water and sewage to fill it. He was awoken by the sound of someone screaming, looking up he realized it was his ex-wife.
He ran on the side of the street to get to her side, he stopped in his tracks when he saw her. She lay on the ground without any legs. He immediately looked for his son as she screamed out for him to help her. Ignoring her he saw his son in the corner of his eye, the little boy’s lifeless body was crushed underneath a car that had been thrown in the air during the explosion.
Horror and blood ran to his face, another plane flew overhead, his ex-wife screamed helplessly in the street and blood from his son’s head drained onto the street.
He stood there.
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