Episode 9
Rise
Jeff stared at the rubble. There was a part of him that had to take in the horrible sight. Another part was trying to comprehend it. Other people were doing the same. Especially those who were coming out from the shops and buildings.
The entire world was grey. The wave of smoke had covered everything, including those who couldn't make it inside. Coughs came, trying to expel the cause of the grey. The sound surrounded Jeff, until he realized a few of those coughs were coming from his own mouth.
The large pile of metal, brick - everything that comprised the Tower - was all he cared about. It wasn't abstract, like a car without its victim. He knew, just as the people around him did, that people were in that building. People that he spoke to. People that he had names to. People that had their own lives.
The scan-glasses were in Jeff's hand. He wiped away as much of the dust from it as possible. Putting them back on, he held them to scan the enormous pile. The glasses showed several signs, but they were faint and flickered on and off.
That realization caused Jeff to move forward. At first it was a walk. Then he gained more and more a sense of urgency. The ground felt rough and slick. Jeff couldn't keep steady at first. Then his own hesitation faded away and he went into a full-out run. He was not the only one.
Other people followed. They varied from young and old. Anyone that was there before was now headed for the wreckage.
Jeff climbed onto the nearest block. The terrain was firm. Jeff grabbed the nearest block he could lift. He then aimlessly threw it out of the way. Then the next. Then another one.
Everyone else did the same thing, each moving a small portion of the rubble. They all put in as much effort as they could. However, even the combined effort was barely putting a dent on the problem.
For Jeff, as well as everyone else, that didn't matter. They were doing something. Each pebble was a pebble closer to finding someone.
He didn't know how long he did that. Take a table-sized pebble, throw it behind him. Grab another one, throw it out. His vision was completely taken with that red dot - the life sign that remained.
Then a hand went onto Jeff's shoulder. "Jeff. You can stop."
Jeff turned to find Detective Yelm. He looked right at the police officer, showing that he wanted to be there. "There are people still under there!"
"I know that there could be people..."
Jeff interrupted him, showing his insistence. "I know that there are people in there! I can't just leave them. Not now."
"No, especially now!" Yelm was showing his own insistence, "We don't know what the hell just happened. We need someone who can find out. You are that person.
"I know you want to help. Heck, everyone does. But all those people, including you, don't know what they're doing. As much as you want to help those people, I can't let any more people get hurt.
"Now, go do your thing. I'll do mine."
Jeff couldn't argue. He knew that he was right, but still didn't like it. "Alright. Just make sure you get to those people."
Yelm agreed, "I won't sleep until I do."
Jeff reluctantly got up and walked away. More officers were giving the same speech to other people that had got there. He felt for them. At least Jeff had something he could contribute.
The newsroom was in a panic. Every reporter was moving. The editor was in the production room scrambling to see what they had. Red sat in the chair, alone in front of the camera. The producer was behind the camera, holding her hand to the headset.
The anchor was solemn. He heard the news literally one minute ago. The reporter in him tried to compose himself. Many other things were on his mind, but this was his job. It was moments like this that being here was most important for everyone out there.
Looking up at the producer, he begun the last series of quick questions before going live. "Who's on site?"
"We got Henesy on the move; should be ready in two."
"Any live feeds?"
The producer looked down at her notes, "We have one traffic cam right now. Not the best view, but it tells the story."
Most important for Red, "And any viewer submissions?"
"Yeah, going through them now. We can get them on air in a few.
"We're live in five..." The producer showed her fingers for the final countdown, remaining silent for the camera.
Red re-composed himself, though the weight of the tragedy still showed through. "This is Red Perlman. The New York Tower...has collapsed. There were reports of random winds, explosions of some kind happening all around the area. We don't know if that is what caused the collapsed of the entire tower.
"This happened at nine-twenty-three eastern. We can not confirm how many people were in the building at the time, but a previous report we have estimated that around three to four thousand people could have been inside.
"We're told that every emergency respondent in the downtown area is already on scene, with many more still in route. All though officials have yet to release much information, they have told anyone in the New York area that if you can stay home, please do so. Unless you are..."
Red put his hand to his ear, having something told to him. "I'm being told that we do have video of the event. It was caught by a view with a cell phone. The quality is not the best. And I am told that this video can be disturbing."
Through the monitor, Red looked at what happened for the first time. The camera was shaky. The screen started showing a garbage truck that had flipped over. Then the camera zoomed across the street, focusing on an arm that was outstretched in an overturn car. Static coated the screen. The person filming had been flung down onto the ground. The screen went grey, fallen onto the ground.
Light returned. The camera focused on the Tower. It was already collapsing, grey smoke billowing from the implosion. Red's eyes were glued to the video. A part of him still in disbelief and expecting a cut-away saying that was a simulation. That wouldn't happen. This was the real thing - a real tragedy.
The screen returned to Red. The video had hit him more than anything else ever had. "As you have just seen, some strange...winds were occurring just before the tower collapsed. No word on any connection they had.
"The police insist that only authorized personnel can be at the scene. They did say they have good reason to expect that there are people still alive and that they will do anything and use every resource to find them."
The darkness is all that she could see. Cheryl woke up and couldn't see anything. She felt a large weight pinning her down - it was another person. "Arlando, is that you?"
Grunting, the man shifted. He had been awake for several minutes. He quipped, "Well, you wanted to get to know me, so here we are."
"I don't think this is the time for jokes."
He replied, "We don't have much else to do. Heck, we were lucky in getting this air pocket."
"And no way out."
"Especially with this leg pinned." He looked down, as though gesturing towards it. It was wedged between two huge blocks. There was no pain...which is what worried Arlando the most. "It'll be a while. Our best bet is to stay awake and hope they get to us sooner rather than later."
Cheryl nodded, knowing what he was asking of her. "Alright. So where are you from?"
Jeff swiftly entered the science station. He had little to no clue on what happened, so he had to start somewhere. There was a television monitor that had the news on. It was a different station than what Red was on, but the newscaster showed the very same emotions. The few workers that didn't have anything else to do were glued to the television.
The majority of the people within the room scrambled. New numbers and information were flowing in and each person needed to analyze it. Jeff walked into the mob. He couldn't identify who was leading the group. He walked up to one of the few people watching the television and tapped his shoulder. He turned around to face him. "Do you need something?"
"Yeah. I'm from the police department and want to see what y
ou guys have."
The scientist answered, "I can do that. In case you haven't noticed, everyone else is busy."
The man led Jeff to a Richter scale. Next to it was a computer, which was being used by another scientist. He had to tap her on the shoulder and gestured that he needed it for a second. Stepping aside, the geological scientist watched as the Scientist showed Jeff what they had found.
The first thing was a linear time scale, showing how much activity there was. There was a marker placed for when the Tower collapsed. The scientist explained, "As you can see, the collapse itself created a lot of activity. But before that...several smaller ones that increased in size...."
"I was there," Jeff said, implying for the scientist to skip onto the important information.
"OK, that'll save me a bit of time." He switched the screen to a map. Each mark on the map was noted to show exactly what period of time it had recorded. "As you see, they all had random location, going as far as twelve feet below ground and eight blocks away. That's not what caused the Tower to fall; at least the ones below ground."
"Being on a Richter scale, I'm guessing you don't have anything above ground."
He replied with a shrug, "Not really; only directly on the surface. As you saw, it was as though explosions happened without anything there. We tried to see if there was radiation left over, or something that we can study. Nothing."
"So you don't have anything."
The scientist shook his head negative, saying the opposite of Jeff's rhetorical statement. "Nothing we can study. A few of us have a theory that each of them had a very small detonator, as though atoms themselves were combining or splitting. But I have no idea how anything could have caused such a chain that we just saw."
Jeff sighed. He had many theories on what happened. This confirmed one at least one of those theories. "Unfortunately, I may have an idea. Thanks and keep up. This still is an important piece to the puzzle." Jeff left without another word, including something to give the baffled scientists.
Yelm was behind a row of other officers. He was continuously yelling muffled orders. The mob that was in front of the officers were pushing and tussling. Everyone, men and women of many origins, wanted to get in and help. The officers had to stand their ground. Luckily few were willing to give their full force to shove their way through the police line.
The detective, the unofficial coordinator in that area, walked away from the mess. His feet had to maneuver over large pieces of mortar. There was a nearby fire fighter that carried a bullhorn. He handed it over to the detective. "It's finicky, but it's the best I could find on short notice."
Yelm reassured the large man, "It'll be fine. Hopefully I won't need it for long."
The fire fighter gave a shrug then went back toward the main bulk of the Pile.
Yelm turned back around to the crowd. He stood upon an impromptu platform. Putting his mouth to bullhorn, he tried to speak but found it didn't work. Lowering it, he pulled the trigger several times before it squealed. Once again he raised it up.
"Everyone, please stand aside. I know you want to help just as much as I do, but we can only have those trained for such emergencies on site. We don't want anyone else getting hurt, most especially those that are trying to help.
"Go home or go volunteer somewhere else. But please, let those who can help best do so. Just give us your prayers. We'll need them."
The speech calmed the crowd. No one moved. Instead, they watched. They gave their silence and cooperation. But Yelm could see that nothing would move them. He gave a sigh, knowing that was all he could do. Stepping down, he walked back towards the Pile and where he himself could work.
Once in the spot he had begun work at, he removed gloves from his pocket and put them on. He begun lifting many of the smaller stones that he could. This was more strategically done than those had done before him. The gloves were already old and wearing more with the work. He continued even with the little protection they provided.
Then a yell came from several hundred feet away. He looked up to find a fire fighter waving his hands. "Someone get a stretcher!"
Two men raced on both sides of a stretcher. They carried it with swiftness, though they didn't need to. Yelm ran to the site of the discovery. In an opening, there was a body of a boy. He would have been in his early teens. Why he was in there no one knew, nor cared.
The police officers that carried the stretcher waited up top. Fire fighters lifted the body from below. With much caution and solemn, they placed it onto the stretcher. Another fire fighter took a silver blanket and placed it over the quiet body.
It started with one officer that was watching: he gave a salute to the fallen. It took a second for another to notice and follow suit. Soon, everyone that was in the vicinity raised their hands to the fallen boy, ending with Yelm.
The officers lifted the occupied stretcher and carried it away from the Pile. For them, this was as much a funeral as a recovery.
The back door of the Transport was opening. Once it had fully lowered, Jeff walked right to the cockpit and sat down. Swiveling around, he pressed several buttons. He held the look of intent that persisted throughout the day.
Then the phone went off - the very one that Yelm had given him. Removing it from his pocket, he he clicked the green button. Before he could say anything, the caller said, "Yelm, good thing I got through. I need to know...."
Jeff interrupted the night detective, "Sorry, Farnsworth. This is Jeff. Yelm gave me his phone before the...tower fell."
"Oh. I've been trying to call everyone I could, though the phones are jammed. Took me a half-hour just for this number. Well, it would still be good to know what you're up to."
Jeff continued looking at his various monitors. "I'm trying to find out exactly what happened."
More curious than expecting anything, Farnsworth asked, "Found anything?"
"Not really, but I got a theory that I'm checking on."
"What is it?"
Jeff replied, "I can't really say..."
"Dang it, Hunter! Don't play coy, not now! What the heck is it?"
Jeff knew he was right. He stopped looking at the monitor and focused on the phone call. "Both me and Karns are from an alternate reality."
It sounded completely off-topic. "You're talking sci-fi now?"
"Look outside and explain that." Jeff referred to the Tower and how it fell.
"All right. Then what?"
"Karns stole the project I was working on, the very one that creates portals and allows us to travel between realities. Usually, a portal is opened several hundred feet in the air. That way nothing would be affected on either side of the portal. However, I'm not sure what would happen if he opened one on top or directly into solid matter."
Farnsworth was shocked at the implication. "You think Karns did this?"
"I went to a half-dozen research centers ruling out more natural causes. Mostly because I was hoping that it wasn't Karns this time." The monitor beeped, informing Jeff that it was finished. He turned his attention back to see the results.
Farnsworth commented, "I hope so as well. Something like that...I don't want to..."
"That isn't it."
The correction sounded odd to Farnsworth, "Wait, I thought you said it was him."
Jeff re-confirmed his findings from the screen, "I said it was possibly him. It still could, but it wasn't with the Transport. Which is one reason I don't like saying anything: just saying it implies that it's true. Something I hate about politics."
The detective gave out an audible sigh, "All right. Keep at it and keep me informed. I got the FBI and NSA down my throat, not to mention the public."
"Yeah, I know." He lowered the phone and pressed the end-call button. Looking back up at the monitor, a new question had been raised. Dozens of entries were listed. Each entry showed where and when the explosions had occurred.
Pressing a button on screen, it switched to a map. Most had centered around where the Tower was, but many more we
re marked elsewhere. Many more leads he had to chase.
Arlando was still lying face-down within darkness. For some time he was trying to shove a rock over. Cheryl could hear him grunting - that tipped her off. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea."
"Well, I can't just stay here all day."
She was worried, "If you take out the wrong rock..."
"I still can't take this sitting here not doing anything!"
Cheryl turned equally insistent, "This is the time that not doing anything is the best!"
Arlando stopped her movements. He looked at where her voice came from, giving a look of shock. Then it turned to a fit of anger. "No one should ever say that. Waiting for something to happen, for someone to help..."
"Sorry," she admitted.
He continued his rant, "My mother, her illness started because she was attacked, right on the street. Several people stood by but no one helped. Not a one called 911. What I've been doing for these past five years may not have been the best, but it was something."
A light flickered on. That small amount of light illuminated the entire cavern. Cheryl had flicked open her cell phone, intending to hand it over to her fellow prisoner. "I forgot I had placed it in my pocket."
"Thanks." He took the phone and dialed 911. Placing it on his ear, the light faded a bit as he waited for a response.
The answer came with him hitting the rock next to him with his fist. "Dang! A message said the phones are tied up."
As he lowered the phone, the light hit Cheryl's clothes - blood-stained clothes. He said to her, "You're hurt."
"It isn't bad. 'Doesn't hurt, really."
Arlando touched it, pressing it. She didn't squint. "You can't feel a thing there. That isn't good."
"I'll do fine. After all, I've had worse while biking."
He looked upon her. Her face showed that she wasn't worried. Closing the cell phone, the prison went dark again. Now she released her mask, showing just as much worry as he had.
Red drank from his cup of water. He listened to the reporter that was on a nearby monitor. This was one of the few breaks that he got, and he tried to make the most of it. It was only for a few minutes. That small amount of time was enough.
He took out his phone and pressed one button. He raised it to his ear and listened. The report still took a large portion of his attention. For him, it didn't matter where he went - he couldn't escape.
When the other side picked up the phone, he could hear the television in the background. It was the same newscast. He said, "Hi, honey. I got three minutes."
The worried woman said, "I noticed. When are you coming home?"
"I'll probably have to be here all day."
That didn't please her, "All day?! I was hoping you would pick up Ben."
"I can't leave it here. You've been watching?" It wasn't just a sense that no one else could do his job; it was his duty.
She gave an almost loving answer, "As always."
"Then you know what kind of tragedy happened. We have to stay on air."
She still had to know, "Until when?"
He couldn't give an exact answer, "I don't know. With something like this, I don't know when we can stop filming people's tears."
Jeff walked around the city. He was guided by the phone that Yelm had given him. The screen showed a map, with several destinations logged in. He followed one that had several entries.
People were walking everywhere. It was the ones that held pictures that concerned Jeff the most. They held them up, hoping that any passer-bys would recognize the faces. The others had equally sad expressions, most going toward the place the Tower used to be.
He looked down, making sure that the directions he mentally held were correct. When he looked back up, he had pass by a group of people hovering around a cell phone. He could hear it ring. When a beep sounded, the very one for an answering machine, the holder ended the call and redialed. It seemed like a futile effort. But that effort was something both they and everyone around them put their faith into.
Looking the other way, something caught Jeff's attention. He lowered the phone from his direct view. There were no cars, only pedestrians lined the street. The crowd was staring at something.
Crossing the road, he got a better picture of the window. It was covered with pictures. They were all the same loved ones that others were trying to find elsewhere. Each had a phone number, and a name. One in particular caught Jeff's attention. He got close to find it was of Cheryl. The small photo showed her on a some kind of European vacation overlooking a grand valley.
Jeff punched the wall. Holding the fist against the bare brick, Jeff looked down in frustration. He didn't know how at yet, but he knew that he failed someone else.
He looked up, seeing her in focus. Then the focus drifted farther and farther out. Along with Cheryl was many other people that were also lost. Even if they were alive, their lives wouldn't be the same - all haunted by the same tragedy.
"No more," he swore, "No more."
Shoving himself back up with his fist, he turned back to his lead. He walked much more swiftly and with intent. He needed answers; it was the least he could give everyone.
Yelm continued his work of trying to get as much rubble out as possible. Standing up, he wiped his sweat-covered brow. His breath was heavy. He looked around to find plenty of people working on the same job that he had. But they were approaching larger and larger pieces; things that couldn't be moved by hand.
Turning around, he approached a construction worker who had just arrived. "Do we have the large machines for the heavier stuff?"
"It's on the way still. I called just a minute ago and..."
A loud boom echoed across the rubbled field. Several of the workers ran from their site. The explosion had spooked them. It had looked like nothing had moved, but quite a few people were still yelling to get out. Yelm ran to the area, trying to look inside a hole that they had dug out. At first he couldn't see anything in the darkness.
Not looking at anyone in particular, Yelm asked, "What happened?"
A nearby fire fighter answered him, "A car probably exploded. It's pretty hot in there and we're right on top the parking garage."
Looking around the unrecognizable mess of metal, Yelm verbalized the shocking fact, "We're on top the garage?"
He looked more carefully into the hole. There was a slight flicker inside. It only indicated that there was a fire far within the rubble. Yelm turned toward the center of the Tower site, noticing that heavy smoke still billowed from it. "That's what that is: something's still burning."
"Yeah. I can't even speculate how long that will last. It could be for a few more hours, or a few days. 'Just hope that it's on the shorter end of things."
Yelm agreed by saying, "I hear." He walked back to where he was assigned to work.
Farnsworth slammed the phone on the desk. There was very few people in the station; most were in the streets controlling crowds or in the Pile digging. The detective had the agonizing task of coordinating several squads of the station and several other squads of incoming officers from other parts of the city.
"Jill, where's the eighth district SWAT cars?"
The secretary still had a phone on her ear. She turned, covering the receiver. "They're two miles south. There's some traffic, so it'll take a bit."
"Tell them to swerve to the east. We need more people on that side."
Jill nodded in confirmation then turned back to her phone.
The phone rang at Farnsworth's desk. He immediately picked it up. "Farnsworth speaking."
It was another in the line of federal agencies that wanted answers.
"I have my best men on the job," he said to the phone, "They haven't found a thing yet."
They held their insistence.
"I said...!
The man on the other side wouldn't give Farnsworth a word.
So he decided not to let them. "Now, listen! I don't have any answers for you. What do you have for me?! Cause a
t this point, I can't have you calling me every fifteen minutes! So unless you have something to give me, don't call back!"
Once again he slammed the phone. He whispered to himself, "I had to have the hardest job of all: sitting here." He looked over to the television. It showed images of people that held their pictures. "Me and and all those people."
Jeff walked up to the building, recognizing it immediately. It was the same location that he found the kidnapped scientist. The question remained, "Was Karns behind this after all?" Turning his thoughts more directly toward the task at hand, he entered the building.
Inside it was just as abandoned as it was when he first came in the night before. Police tape blocked much of the floor, but there was no one inside to enforce the blockade. Ducking under the tape, he walked right into the very room that Gregory was held in.
It wasn't that event that led him there. Jeff found that room was the center of an anomaly that the Transport detected. At the doorway, he scanned the room using his glasses. The entire room was empty, including the very thing he searched for.
He sighed, showing a bit of disappointment. "Whatever it is, it doesn't leave anything."
Holding up the cell phone, he looked at it. It had the map showing with him marked in the center. Pressing a button, he zoomed it in, but couldn't see anything but the building's roof.
Now that he had it zoomed in, it was a clearer picture. Everything had happened toward the center of the room, as though it surrounded the actor that caused them.
He knew one answer, "It was Karns. But it was also Dellard. Whatever Karns made him do was the final piece that caused the Tower to fall."
Pressing back on the phone, he dialed up Farnsworth. The call was in part to keep him in the loop. More importantly, it was to get Gregory Dellard's address. He needed more answers from the victim.
Red sat at the news desk. He spoke frankly to the camera, "Our reporters got a response from the New York Police Department. While they believe the strange effects, the ones you have seen for the past hour-and-a-half from various footage, and the fall of the New York Tower were linked in some way. Just how they don't know yet.
"We have a reporter right in the Pile, as they are calling it. Rebecca Terson is with Detective Yelm."
The monitors switched to a woman who's formal suit had hints of dust on it. She talked, but Red couldn't hear what she was saying. He had removed the earpiece that he had on for more than two hours.
The Editor approached the desk, a board in hand. "Alright Red, we got word from Susan that she'll be here in twenty minutes."
Red shook his head negative, "No, that's fine. I can stay as long as they can." He referred to the screen, showing firefighters and officers going through the Pile.
The editor couldn't refuse, at least not at that time. "Alright. I'll have her head elsewhere."
Red moved onto the upcoming reports, "Who else do we have?"
"Fred is at the Resergance Hospital. I was going to move him in thirty, but I'll send Susan instead."
"Anyone at any of the nearby fire or police stations?"
The editor showed disappointment in his voice, "Tried that. Jill said that everyone she went to declined."
"Alright, where's Peters?"
The editor stood silent for a second, knowing something that Red didn't. "He took off. I heard that he got a call from his wife early this morning that she was being interviewed in the Tower."
Red took this news very solemnly. "O.K. Do we have a photo of her?"
The editor knew this route, "You want to show it to viewers?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I had the same thought. I stole the portrait that Peters had on his desk."
Red nodded, "Good. As soon as we come back, have it up."
"Alright." The editor left the desk for the back room. Red put the earpiece back into place. Once again, the director gave a signal that it was almost time.
Red faced the camera and with a monotone spoke, "I just got a report that one of our reporters, Peters Velic, will not be with us for the rest of the day. He heard that his wife, Carla, might have been in the Tower during the incident. If my producers can put up a photo of her..."
The monitor showed a photo placed next to Red. Below was a phone number. "The number below is for the station. We have been putting it up for any tips, including if you have seen anyone that we've reported as missing. If you know where Carla is, please call is as soon as you can. I normally don't ask for much of our viewers, but this is something I must ask. Please, help us find her. Help us find everyone that is missing."
The television was the only thing that made sound in the entire house. Gregory and his wife sat in front of it. They watched, seeing the very images that Jeff had experienced personally. Both held their hands as though in silent prayer for the people within the Tower.
The doorbell rang. Gregory's wife reactively raised up to get it, but the husband put a hand on her shoulder. Greg got up and separated from his wife. He walked across the warm living room to the light-colored door.
It was Jeff. The former-captive easily recognized him despite the trauma from the night before. This time, however, meant something very bad.
"Can I speak with you?"
Gregory was more up front about the very apparent subject. "I caused this, didn't I?"
Jeff tried to impress upon him, "No, you didn't..."
Gregory cut him off, thinking what Jeff said was just false comfort. "Why would you be here then? It was the thing I made. I..."
"Dellard!" Jeff had to get his attention off the line of thought. With Gregory's eyes upon him, he softly said, "Let's talk in private."
Gregory nodded. He led Jeff towards the dinning room. Putting the table between them, Gregory awaited Jeff's questions.
"I won't lie," Jeff said, "I do suspect that Karns caused it. But I don't know how. So I need to know what you built for him."
"I...still don't exactly know. It had all the same components of the backpack."
The phrasing was curious to Jeff, "But it wasn't the backpack."
"The thing was...the effects was being applied much further outward."
"Outward?"
Gregory tried to keep the explanation from being too technical, "At first I thought it was to shrink larger objects, like entire buildings. But the component that I made doesn't do that. It charges the particles, just like the backpack, but it doesn't do anything with them."
"You tested the "component"?"
Gregory just nodded.
"Did you notice anything?" Jeff asked, "Any strange effects?"
Gregory shook his head negative. "No. Actually, I had to use a monitor to make sure everything worked. The glow you see with the backpack is only caused by moving the particles in mass. Since nothing was done, you couldn't see anything with the naked eye."
That tipped Jeff. "Then what you did probably wasn't at fault. There was rapid expansion of air, to an explosive point. You would have noticed that."
Gregory shook his head, knowing the point. "Just because it didn't cause anything at that time doesn't mean it didn't cause it. Whatever it was plugged into, my piece was vital towards that. I helped him! I helped him destroy the Tower!"
Jeff held his footing, "You didn't press the button. It wasn't you that caused all of this. It was Karns. He made you make it, just as he probably did to several other scientists."
Gregory wasn't satisfied, "I still made it. If I refused..."
"Then you wouldn't be here with your wife."
That point hit Gregory the hardest. It showed him that there was some good to have come from it.
Jeff said to the other scientist, "I know how it feels. Karns stole my own invention and used it for his own devices. Just like a driver who makes a blind turn, there is only one thing one can do: learn."
"Knowing still doesn't help."
Jeff countered, "No, but it's something. It makes those lives lost less pointless. And it gives you a reason to live: to make even mo
re lives better."
Yelm wandered away from the camera that coupled the reporter. An production assistant shook his hand, showing his thanks. The police officer headed back into the Pile. All of the other workers were still shifting as much of the rubble as they could.
An officer approached him, expressing that he had important news for the detective. "The backhoe is here, but we need to clear some of the heavy stuff on the outskirts before it can get into the Pile."
Yelm ordered, "Then do it. What's the problem about that?"
"Well, we're at the point where we can't just shift it around. There's a few trucks, but they need to know where to take it all."
Yelm sighed. It was more administrative stuff. He would much rather get back into the physical labor. "Where did the trucks come from?"
"I didn't look, but the three trucks came from two different companies that I guess the city often contracts to."
Yelm pointed towards the dump trucks in the distance, "I want you to talk to the drivers and see if they can get their own bosses. See if they can get a dump site. If they can get it for cheaper, or even free: good. But the priority is to get a place that is as clear as possible. After this is all finished, we have to figure out what the hell happened. Can't have the pieces mixed up with regular garbage."
"I'll get on it." The officer left without a single question for Yelm. The orders were reasonable, though swiftness was more needed more than anything else.
Yelm continued his walk. It was only a few seconds before a loud crash was heard. It was near the location that he was aiming for. He ran. The many fire fighters and police officers moved franticly, climbing away from where the crash was occurred. Yelm approached a fire fighter, one that he knew to be the chief.
"What happened?"
The fire chief answered, "My guess is there was a collapse nearby. I don't think it was where we were working."
The lead police officer suggested, "Let's get everyone out for right now; get a head count. We need to know if it was us or something else that caused it. I'll call my guys on this side."
"Just as I was thinking. We may have to stop putting out fires with our hydrants; the water could be putting more weight onto everything."
Yelm sighed, knowing in that case fires would continue and possibly spread. "I'll leave that up to you.
"Damn, I would hate it if we have to choose between two bad options. Here of all places."
The fire fighter replied, "I know." He left Yelm to do his duties.
Yelm pointed to his side, yelling, "All officers over here; now!"
Arlando and Cheryl heard and felt their surroundings move. Luckily it was only a vibration, but they could tell that something bad happened. "I don't know what that was."
Cheryl thought, "Can't be an earthquake. I wouldn't be surprised that something fell."
Then a beep came from Cheryl's phone. She took it out. The small light illuminating the entire chamber. The phone showed that a message from her fiance came in. She read it, and it lit up a smile on her face. "Ted is looking for me."
"Your fiance?"
She almost showed glee after reading the message. "Yeah. He sent this twenty minutes ago; still trying to find me."
Arlando's mood brightened up as well, "Send him something back! Tell him where we are!"
Cheryl typed away on the phone. The process was quick. The multiple clicks echoed in the small prison. Cheryl pressed hard on the last button to complete the message. "Done."
This was the best news that the two got all day. Though they didn't talk, their spirits were raised.
But Arlando noticed something. There was a thin line of almost-clear smoke on the top of the cavern. He kept this a secret from Cheryl, preferring to keep the mood high. The hope that rescue would come was more important. He just pray it would come before that the smoke would overwhelm them.
Jeff closed the cell phone. Gregory had sat down with his wife, fatigue and the weight of events on his shoulders. The investigator walked from the dining room to the foot of the living room. He looked right at worried man.
It was enough to catch Gregory's eye. He turned to Jeff while his wife continuing to watch the television.
Jeff said, "I called the lab and we're going to run a few tests. We'll need you there to confirm everything."
He looked at his wife, who returned the favor. It was a wordless way of him saying that he'd rather be here.
Jeff also saw this, saying to the two, "Everyone needs answers; you above all else."
A shallow nod came to Gregory. It was something he did need. There was still the fear that his worries would be confirmed, but he had to go. His wife saw that bravery, smiling at him - encouraging him.
The two grasped their hands, silently giving their love to each other. Almost reluctantly, Gregory let go and stood up. He announced, "Let's go."
Red continued his sit-in at the news desk. A few people had rotated around, including the editor that hovered in the back. Another anchor, Terri, was now walking out of the dressing room. Red nodded. It was the last part of the conversation between him and a field corespondent that was on the monitor.
Red finished with, "Thank you, Bill." He then turned the attention towards his fellow anchor, "Just in the studio is our afternoon anchor, Terri Farefield."
He rotated the seat towards Terri. She sat down, with the camera aimed right at her. "Afternoon, Red."
"Normally you would have arrived about thirty minutes ago."
"Yeah, we would have a few words before I would take the afternoon news and again when you took evenings a few weeks ago."
"It's been interesting doing the split shift." He had said that as an off-hand comment, not intended to expand further.
She began her own story, "The commute was rather different. Normally, I take the subway to downtown, then walk the rest of the way. The problem is the exact route I take is exactly across from where the Tower would be."
Red waved his hand toward the camera, "Now you brought some video that you took."
Terri nodded, "I had a cell phone on me. The quality isn't that good, but it's something I carry with me at all times for."
The monitors showed the video that Terri had taken, starting with a shot of an overturned truck. "Even though it happened almost three hours ago, none of the wreckage on the streets have been touched."
Being the host in this case, Red asked, "Are these on every street?"
In a sad tone, she answered, "Pretty much. There's some cars, trucks, buses...One road was blocked by a huge pile of bricks."
Now the video changed to show that pile. It was taken from across the road, the quality made more grainy due to the video being enlarged in post-production. "Some of it was from the buildings, but I doubt it was all from that."
Once again Red rose a question, "So where did it come from? Was it dumped from somewhere else?"
Terri shrugged, not knowing the answer. "I'm sure that maybe some of the mystery behind the explosions.
"From there I moved close to the Tower site. As you can see, I couldn't get all that close." The film switched to a huge mass of people, as they watched the workers from afar. "I talked to some of the people there. Some were there just to show some form of support. Others were waiting to see if their brother, sister, husband, wife..."
As she spoke, Red held his ear-piece. It was important, as it shifted his focus from what she was saying to the ear-piece. "Sorry, Terri. We'll get back to your account but we have Rebecca at the Tower site right now."
The monitors showed Rebecca, far away from the rescue operation. She kept a quiet tone to her voice. That tone reflected the scene of the people praying around her. "We just got word that a fire fighter has been pulled from the rubble. It was one of three that had responded to a medical emergency that was called just before the Tower fell."
She went silent as the camera zoomed in on a flag-draped cart. It was being moved slowly and carefully down the pile. It sometimes went out of view as the proc
ession passed by a standing column. Both Red and Terri watched in silent vigil. They watched the screen just as everyone at home would, with sadness at another grim discovery.
When it was out of view, Red took over, "Thank you, Rebecca. I speak for everyone in hoping that we see the other fire fighters alive and well."
Terrie extended, "And not just those fire fighters, but everyone that was in the Tower; though as unlikely as it seems."
Red commented, "Well, if there's any day that we want to see a miracle, it's this one."
He let that last sentence lay there for a short while before turning the conversation back to what Terri's experience. "Now, Terri, we were in front of the Tower site...."
Yelm stood silently as the body went just out of view. Then everyone went back to digging, trying to find anyone in there - preferably alive. An officer ran right up to him. He had waited until the procession had completed.
There was a small note pad along with a cell phone in the same hand. "Sir, I got something." Yelm turned to him. "A tip came a half-hour ago that someone was trapped near or within the Pile."
"Within the Pile!" It was both shocking and the best news he had this day.
The officer explained, "A cell phone text, at least that was the claim. Unfortunately, it took a while for that text to go through, as well as the time for the receiver to get the tip to us."
Detective Yelm said, "Still, this should be something!"
"We were able to triangulate the coordinates. I have them right here." He referred to his note pad. Then he shifted the cell phone to his other hand, making it the main focus of the conversation. "And they're keyed in here."
Yelm ordered, "Go ahead and locate it. I'll grab a few people to concentrate right on rescuing whoever is down there."
The detective ran over to where some people were resting. He tapped their shoulder, arm, back...whatever to get their attention. He then signaled for them to follow. With five men in tow, he ran back towards the edge of the Pile, where there was several other people also working.
The officer stood, looking for Yelm until he finally saw him. Seeing each other, Yelm climbed over the larger pieces of rubble before arriving alongside the officer. It was well outside the center of the Pile. "Should be around here," he said to everyone, "Accuracy is a bit low, to within about a hundred feet in either direction - and we don't have a depth."
Yelm said, "That's all right." He turned to the men that had followed. He informed them, "We got a tip that someone is right here - alive. Let's get to work!"
Everyone began shifting around the rubble. They worked almost franticly to get to the trapped victims.
Jeff was leading Gregory right into the laboratory, the same one that was broken into and where the scientist was kidnapped. The police tape still remained. Even the vault that had contained the prototype backpack, the one that Jeff had, was still wide open. Nothing had moved since they day before.
The lights lit up with a flick of Gregory's finger. For him, it felt like years even though it was a few days since he was last there.
Jeff said to him, "They ransacked through here. Do you think you'll have all the parts necessary for this?"
Gregory still looked in almost awe. Then his mood shifting towards business. "Yeah. I heard an off-hand remark that they purposely only stole one of everything. Now that I know what I'm building, it won't take long."
Jeff held up a hand, indicating that he'll step aside as the other scientist did his work. "I'll be here if you need anything."
Gregory almost tentatively walked in. He was still reeling from the events in the past few days. But he shook his head negative while diving for a cabinet. "No, I can do this on my own...Though I could use a computer."
He pointed out the door and toward the offices across the hall. "If you can grab Phil's laptop. It'll be on the desk next to mine; hard to miss."
Jeff left for the offices while Gregory removed a small metal piece and placed it on the counter. He then moved to the next cabinet, placing another strange piece onto the counter.
Jeff arrived in short notice with the small laptop in one hand. He placed next to the components that Gregory was haphazardly removing. Getting up from the low cabinet, Gregory noticed that had Jeff returned with the laptop. Opening it up, the boot-up was quick.
"Luckily Phil never shuts down his computers. Makes this much faster." He clicked on a file that was right on the desktop.
It brought up a schematic that Jeff immediately recognized. "That's the backpack, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but I need only one part of it." He clicked off-center, shifting the view to one particular part. "This was the thing they were looking for. For their purpose, I had to increase its size and power requirements by double. There's also a few adjustments that I had to make, which took the most time."
This realization put a thought into Jeff's head. He held up a finger, "Continue making it. I'm just going to quickly test a theory." Jeff set himself aside. The other scientist continued his gathering, though looked over his shoulder at Jeff.
Removing the backpack, Jeff placed it right on the floor. He held his glasses and set it so then it would register anything unusual. Then he held his hand next to the backpack. With a thought, he summoned one of his stun-pistols.
The glasses identified the occurrence as the same exact thing the Transport had. Then he un-summoned the pistol, then had the backpack materialize the small toolkit. Jeff sighed. He had found one component of what happened that morning.
Gregory had noticed the sigh. He took out one last piece before turning toward Jeff. "What did you find?"
Jeff didn't look at him, just stared at the backpack...or really the results in his glasses. "The thing that happened at the Tower...what probably made it fall...the backpack generates the same type of readings."
"Wait, so the backpack itself can do that?"
Jeff shook his head negative. "No. The same effect, but possibly a different result. We'll find more once you're done."
Gregory knew that he had to get done, so he nodded and began to assemble the components.
Arlando was quiet. He was listening to some of the distant bustling that was happening above. It didn't help that he was breathing hard. He couldn't help it. The air was thin with the film of smoke. And that was increasing its presence within the cavity.
Then a beep boomed in the silence. Arlando looked down to see that the cell phone, left out in Cheryl's hand, was lit. A message was received.
But Cheryl appeared not to have noticed. Her eyes were closed. That was a sign Arlando knew wasn't good. "Cheryl? The phone; I think it's saying help is coming. I can hear them."
She remained silent.
Arlando shifted around. He let one arm free; weight pressed onto him a bit more than before. But it didn't deter him from using his right hand and shaking Cheryl.
She remained silent.
"Cheryl!"
She bustled a little, but was not fully conscious. She was breathing hard.
"Damn it!" Now Arlando slammed his fist on the roof of the small chasm. He repeated it, trying to make as much noise as possible. "Here! We're here!"
He placed his hand on the floor. With all his strength, he pressed up onto the rubble. He wasn't strong. The effort was almost futile. But he had to do something. It moved only an inch before he had to give in, having it quickly slam back down onto him.
With a few hard breaths for rest, he resumed pounding onto the roof.
Gregory inserted one last screw into the roundish box. The device was about the size of a large book. It looked rough, with little done for aesthetics. "Done."
Jeff got up from a nearby chair. He had passively watched Gregory assemble the stand-alone component. Now he stood next to Gregory at the laboratory's center table. "Is this the same exact thing you gave Karns?"
"Yes. Baring the power supply, which is better than his. It shouldn't change anything."
"All right, then power it up."
Greg
ory moved toward the back of the lab, indicating he was going to retrieve something. "We got several instruments here if you need..."
Jeff shook his head. "No, I got them all right here." He held his glasses, showing that he would use them.
"But don't you need me to help..."
Jeff still refused any assistance, "Not really. I'm an expert in dimensional science."
"Really? Then why..."
Jeff knew the question, "Karns killed my wife, Kara." That was all that was needed.
"I understand. Starting it up." Gregory moved back to the other side of the table. He simply took a power cord and plugged it into the nearby outlet. "You won't be able to see it with your eyes, so I hope that those glasses can register it."
"Traveling around, I had some time to modify these to register a lot more than they were designed for."
Jeff looked around. The entire room was aglow. Removing his glasses, he confirmed that it was his glasses picking up the invisible effect. "And it's working."
With that confirmed, Gregory anticipated the result. "So, do you see something I didn't?"
Jeff took a moment to evaluate. "It's...just as you said. The effect is similar, but not exact. Actually...the full effect on the atoms are different than the backpack's." Jeff remained there, thinking.
Gregory was on the edge of his seat, "Please tell me what you're thinking."
"First you can shut it down."
Gregory removed the cord.
Once it was shut down, Jeff looked at the other scientist, "I highly doubt that this was the thing that caused all this. It may have been a critical component to the thing Karns made, but not more than most any given part in a car."
"Still not very comforting."
Jeff still held his mood of evaluation. "Well, considering some of the technology I've seen, this might have been more of a first opportunity than only one.
"Still...why did he need this? He's hardly a scientist himself."
Gregory knew the answer, "So he had someone else helping him." It was his way of helping Jeff, which he did...in one way.
Jeff had realized who had helped him. He removed his glasses over his own realization. Then he looked at Gregory, holding a very disappointed look in his eyes. "Did Karns show you what he wanted out of this?"
"...Yeah. It was after I made the first prototype of it. He showed me a PDA, which I thought was tweaked from what that thing produced."
Jeff shook his head negative. He took a nearby seat and sat down. "No, it was from mine. When I made the Dimensional Transport..."
"The what?"
"It's the thing that allows both me and him to travel to alternate realities. The first prototypes produced portals that had similar readings."
That still didn't explain things to Gregory. "So why would he want it now?"
"I don't know. That prototype method was abandoned because it would shift things rather than transport. Dangerous if you didn't know what was on the other side."
The two were silent, trying to think of the reason behind the madness.
Then a question came to Gregory, "So what does your portal do?"
"The portal charges a target section, designed for mid-air since that is far less dense and far less likely to have problems on the other side. It creates a common space that...
"Damn! That's why!" Jeff slammed his hand onto the table. He knew exactly what Karns' plan was.
Gregory was getting antsy waiting for Jeff to explain.
Continuing, Jeff explained, "I know what Karns did. Within the space, he would fold two different worlds into one. That's why he was at the Tower, to shift where there likely wouldn't be another building. The amount of dimensional energy put into it... had to go somewhere."
Gregory said, "That's what the explosions were. The excess energy shifting stray particles right into stable ones."
"Creating a small forms of nuclear fusion."
Gregory had to also sit down. "A weapon that no one could even see..."
"It's not a weapon."
Gregory looked up at Jeff. The end result of this evaluation was different, but one that Jeff knew was true.
"All of that is just a secondary effect," Jeff explained, "One that he probably doesn't even care about. No, this was a test - and it worked. He doesn't just want to shift between two worlds...He wants to shift between many. That way he can pick which world he folds out of. And there's only one I know he wants to go to.
"He wants to go home."
Yelm was throwing piles of rubble out to where other workers would haul that pile further away. He worked just as franticly as the rest of the half-dozen fire fighters and police officers. This was the best tip they had yet. He had even heard something from that direction. So they worked while an ambulance waited nearby.
One more large piece was removed. A dark chasm was revealed. Taking out a small flashlight, he shined it down. He immediately saw two people lying on top one another. "We got a hit!"
This re-energized everyone. They threw away anything they could to widen the hole.
As soon as it got open enough, a fire fighter jumped down the short distance. Then one of the medics ran with a stretcher in hand. He stopped at the edge, then slid the long board down.
Another fire fighter tossed down a thick rope. All of the men around took up a section of that rope.
Then a thumbs up came from the hole. Everyone pulled with several tugs. It didn't take long for the stretcher to come up - carrying Cheryl.
The medic came up to inspect her. Another medic ran in with a medkit in hand. All the while, the workers began the work of getting the other person out. The new-comer medic took her kit and removed a mask to give Cheryl air.
They lifted the stretcher up to pull out the wheels. Then the two medics carefully carted her to the ambulance car. They got to within view of a large group of people. The medic in front gave the good news just by signaling with a thumbs up. A cheer erupted from the crowd.
Jeff sat there, knowing that his work had inadvertently caused Kara's death and this tragedy. He sat with Gregory. Both were silent as the revelation sank in. Gregory had no words, he couldn't think of any comfort to give Jeff. Not after his own doubts about his own culpability.
But Jeff knew that he had to face things. He took out the cell phone. Opening it, he found that it's battery was low - too low to make a proper phone call. He looked up toward Gregory to ask, "Is there a phone nearby?"
Gregory pointed towards the back. "It's a speaker phone, but that should still work."
Jeff nodded in thanks; an almost solemn nod that reflected his mood. He got up from the chair and walked right to the phone. Using the last of the cell phone's power, he found Farnsworth's number. His fingers almost shook as he dialed the number.
The answer came almost immediately, "Farnsworth here."
"This is Hunter."
The detective heard the tone, "You got news?"
"Yeah. I know exactly what happened. Karns used the Dimensional Transport that I built and combined it with the thing that Dellard made. The explosions that you saw was actually a side effect of that. I don't know if Karns even noticed it, but he probably didn't even care."
"Why do you say that?"
He referred to the last part, on Jeff's speculation on Karns' motives. "Because he's as heartless as one can get! He doesn't care about anyone unless they give him something. He said that much to me in person."
"So...is he still here...in this Earth?"
"No, you can't get him." This made Jeff realize: he can't get depressed. He can't let any revelation get him down. "And that's why I have to get him. He's going to use it again, but on a greater scale. Other worlds will experience the same thing. If he ramps it up, as I expect, it could hit countless worlds at the same time.
"To stop that is why I have to find him."
Farnsworth heard Jeff's quiet resolve. If he couldn't do anything about Karns, he couldn't stop Jeff from doing anything. But there was other issues in
the air, "What do I tell the people out there?"
"You can say Karns died in the Tower. Or that he's gone missing and is presumed dead. It doesn't matter."
Farnsworth understood why things needed to be that way, "All right. Can I get a full explanation in writing from you?"
"I'll be leaving as soon as I can, so probably not. Dellard knows everything, so you can get it from him."
"Then I'll call around and give you anything you need. You can have anything, as much food and water, weapons, equipment - anything."
Jeff ended the call by saying, "Thanks." He pressed the button to end the call.
Turning back around, he saw Gregory had stood up; both physically and metaphorically. "I'll also do all that I can. There has to be a way to prevent that effect. We'll do all we can here as well."
Jeff nodded in approval.
Cheryl coughed as she woke up. A mask was over her face. She saw two medics hovering over her. They had chosen to stay at the Pile since her condition, while problematic, wasn't too severe. When she was fully awake, the woman removed the mask. "Please breath deep. There was quite a bit of smoke that you inhaled. Shouldn't be much of a problem now. If you had stayed there much longer..."
Cheryl looked around. She didn't see the computer hacker anywhere. "Where's Arlando?"
"The man you were with?"
Cheryl nodded, coughing instead of saying anything.
The medic waved towards the Pile and where Yelm was at. He noticed it at the corner of his eye and walked away from the workers. She watched as the dirt-covered detective climbed down from the small mound. He was calm, reserved in his approach.
Cheryl knew this wasn't good news. It was on his face. He arrived at her feet, looking at Cheryl.
"Miss, good to see you awake."
"Arlando, where is he?" She asked this, though knowing that the answer wouldn't be pleasant.
The detective turned very solemn, "I'm sorry. We tried as much as we could, but he was dead when we got you out. As I understand it, he struggled in his remaining moments. It was probably to get you out. Doing that, he got his crushed leg out. Unfortunately, after being held down for an extended time, limbs can accumulate harmful elements. Enough can becomes a poison. When the limb comes free, it releases all of it to the rest of his body.
"But the thing was, it saved your life. We didn't know exactly where you were. He pounded on the rocks. It was that noise that helped us locate you.
"He saved your life."
Yelm silently turned and left Cheryl to be alone. The medics, though remained there, stood silent and acted as though they weren't there.
Cheryl cried. Tears flowed for the man that saved her life.
Red sat at the desk with Terri next to him. Scenes of the Pile played on the monitors. Terri commented on those pictures, "All those workers have to be getting tired by now."
From his own experience, Red countered, "I know that people can go beyond their own limitations when situations call for it. I've heard it from police officers and normal citizens. The question is how long that can last."
He flipped his papers, indicating that he would move to a different topic. "James has moved to a nearby Red Cross donation center...and found something interesting."
The monitor switched to show a new reporter outside the donation center, with long lines taking over the scene. The reporter said to the camera, "We talked with the administrators and they are actually telling all these people to come back tomorrow. Blood donation is normally very low, and very much in demand. Today, they not only have more than enough, they can't even store all the blood people are willing to donate.
"I've spoken to a lot of these people. They come from different backgrounds: young, old, rich and poor. Most are average, the same people you would meet on the street and not even take notice. Or the friends that you would have in the office.
"Each one saw what happened this morning and said that they had to help. Most wanted to be at the Tower itself, but decided if they couldn't be there then it was here."
"So what are..." Red held his earpiece, getting a piece of news once again. "Sorry James, but we have Rebecca on 24th. 'Becca, what do you have?"
The monitor changed. Rebecca was next to a middle-aged woman who was holding a phone. "Red, I have Carla right here. She was across the street in a coffee shop when the incident happened. She tried calling, but the call volume prevented her from reaching Peters. She stayed there until she saw the report we made. It took all this time for her to figure out how to contact us.
"We gave her a phone with a dedicated line, and she is calling Peters..."
The phone was on speaker, so when the answer came, Rebecca went silent. An answer came over the phone, "Hello?"
Immediately tears came to the wife's eyes. "Pete, it's me."
"Carla? I..."
Carla couldn't help but let the tears flow. "Yeah, I know you were worried. I was too. I'll be home soon!"
He too was expressing relief beyond anything he'd felt before. "I'll be waiting. Please get home soon."
"I will. I will."
As the short call ended, tears still flowed from Carla's eyes. She addressed Rebecca, and in turn to everyone in that newsroom. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Rebecca couldn't help but say, "It was worth it just to see that." She turned to the camera. "That's one happy ending today. Let's hope for more of them."
Jeff walked behind the Transport. The remote key was held in his hand. He pressed it, opening the rear ramp.
Then a truck cross the field. The back was filled with boxes of various labels. It stopped not too far from the Transport without having its lights or engine shut off. From it came Farnsworth. "Glad to have made it right on time."
Jeff held his serious look while the secretary got out of the passenger side. She immediately went to the back and opened the hatch. Farnsworth walked towards Jeff, but looked right at the Transport. "So this is the thing you were talking about."
Jeff also looked at the Transport, "Yeah. This thing has given me a lot, but has taken just as much."
Farnsworth looked over to the traveler, "Do you regret it then?"
Jeff still didn't have the answer.
Farnsworth could see that in Jeff's face, "Everything's like that, Hunter. I've seen my fair share of tragedy and triumph. You'll always miss those people lost. But those tragedies define you, and that definition can make you a better person."
"I just wish it didn't take the tragedies to do that."
Farnsworth replied, "I don't think it can work that way. Otherwise, how'd we define good times? You take the bad so you can work for the good. One day, you'll get something good from this thing. Just hang in there to see it."
Farnsworth turned around and begun his walk to the truck. "Time to work. As much as I'd like to get out of the station, I can't be away too long."
Jeff followed with the intention to help. Once he got to the back of the truck, Jeff saw how much was piled. There was a lot, mostly boxes of food and several jugs of water. "Don't you need some of this?"
Farnsworth lifted a box out of the truck. "We're strong people, Hunter. Despite having the worst disaster in memory, we stood strong today. We'll survive. Just do your thing and make sure no one else has to go through this. Work so then others can have good times."
Jeff took this to heart, and began loading along with the two.
One week later
A lone fire fighter worked on top the Pile. He was tired, just as most around him. The work had gone on for too long. But much more was needed. Looking back, he saw a woman, Cheryl, passing out bottles of water. She wasn't the only one still doing that.
Going back to work, he lifted another piece. The large white block was thrown down so another man would haul it elsewhere. Then he heard something. Lowering his covered ear to the ground, he listened. There he confirmed something.
Calling for others to help, several men gathered. They began lifting more rubble out of the way.
It didn't take long before the formally-lone fire fighter could reach in. Retracting back, he held an amazing sight.
A very young kitten was still alive.
He handed it off to another fire fighter, only to reach in again. Another kitten was retrieved.
The effort lasted only a few minutes. In the end, the fire fighter placed the last of the six kittens onto a blanket. The small box wasn't large or sturdy, but it worked. Those kittens represented something they all had wanted:
A miracle.