NightFall (10 page)

They passed an Egyptian wing
spotlighting the famous Temple of Dendur monument. Sunlight poured
into the exhibition room from the long, angled windows, from floor
to ceiling. Staff members entered the room and quickly pulled down
shutters, blocking out the sun and darkening the room. Mrs. Ramsey
led Rob and Mila down a hall passed several exhibition
rooms.

“
The children are in the
cafeteria,” Mrs. Ramsey said, slightly turning her head.

“
It’s a good thing we ran
into you when we did,” Rob said. “Where were you
headed?”

Her Algeria shoes clicked
against the glossy stone floor with her hurried pace.
“I was on my way to go check on the buses,” she
responded.

“
My guess is that they
won’t start. Am I right?”

“
We’re working on it, and
I don’t know what the problem is,” she said.

“
Mrs. Ramsey,” Rob began,
“things are going to get much, much worse. I’ve read a lot about
this. What we’re experiencing now is only the beginning of a
deliberate attack on this country. Are you familiar with the
effects of an EMP?”

Mrs. Ramsey paused. “An
electromagnetic pulse? Yes. I had my suspicions as
well.”

“
Then you understand how
important it is to keep these students safe. You’re going to need a
police or military escort, if you plan to get these students
home.”

Mrs. Ramsey looked at Rob wide-eyed.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start to request for
that.”

“
I wouldn’t know, either.
But I can tell you that it’s the only way.”

Mila spoke up.
“And not every parent is going to do what we’ve
done.”

“
I understand,” Mrs.
Ramsey said. “The teachers are going to have a meeting and discuss
the best plan of action.”

“
We saw a man being shot
to death in broad daylight, right in front of us a few blocks away.
He was shoplifting. Thousands of other people will soon be doing
the same,” Rob said.

Mrs. Ramsey seemed unnerved. He hoped
that she got the message.

They approached the cafeteria—the size
of a large mall food court—and could see room packed with children
sitting at tables. Mrs. Ramsey pushed open double doors and they
were met with clamorous chatter. Students ate from their sack
lunches, talking and laughing as if nothing was out of the
ordinary.

Mrs. Ramsey stopped them
and turned around.
“We have six classes in
here, two from each grade. We’ve got them under control now, but
it’s been difficult.”

“
And their cell phones?”
Rob asked.

“
Not one works. It’s got
them on edge, that’s for sure.”

“
What did you tell
them?”

She shrugged.
“Temporary glitch.”

“
Not the first time that’s
been said today, I assure you,” Rob said.

Mila scanned the room
through a sea of children. She wanted to yell for them, but wasn’t
keen on making a scene
. Rob seemed to not
share the same concern. He cupped his hands and shouted for them,
gaining the attention of the entire room.

The chatter among the students died
down as faces turned to them. Mrs. Ramsey stood sheepishly to the
side as other teachers looked up startled.

Two children stood up on
opposite sides of the cafeteria as all eyes turned to them. Josh,
on one end, looked over and squinted, clearly perplexed by his
parents
’ presence.

“
Dad?” Kelly said,
hurrying over. “Mom?”

The other students watched in near
silence as Josh scurried away as if facing the most awkward moment
of his life.

Mila hugged Kelly and then went toward
Josh—who backed away, embarrassed.

“
What are you guys doing
here?” he asked.

“
We’ve come to take you
home,” Rob answered.

Kelly was not
enthused.
“But they’ve had us in here all
morning. We’ve haven’t seen anything yet!”

Mila put her arm around
Kelly, comforting her.
“We’ll come another
time, honey. We have to get home now.”

“
The power is going to
come back on any minute,” Kelly said. “I know it.”

Rob leaned in with a stern look and
not a hint of patience left in him.

“
Do you have all your
things?” he asked.

Kelly nodded with her backpack over
her shoulders.

Josh was empty
handed.
“What is this all about?” he
asked.

“
Get your things and let’s
go,” Rob said to him. “I’ll explain later.”

Josh seemed to get the
message and moved quickly back to the table as some of the other
kids looked up and watched him, snickering.
“Have fun sitting here all day,” he said back to them,
grabbing his backpack.

Rob and Mila thanked Mrs.
Ramsey.
“You have no idea how much you’ve
done for us,” Mila said.

Rob looked around the
cafeteria one last time. There was no conceivable plan to look
after them all. He only hoped Mrs. Ramsey would heed his warnings.
Feeling magnanimous, he lifted up the end of his shirt, exposing
the pistol in his pocket.
“Mrs. Ramsey. I
don’t want to alarm you, but I really think you might be better off
with this. It’s the least we can do.”

She recoiled.
“Mr. Parker. This is a gun-free zone. I’d suggest
your family move along before any of the security guards get wind
of this.”

“
I understand,” Rob said,
lowering his shirt. “Just remember what I said. Things are only
going to get worse. Your best bet is to wait in here until proper
accommodations can be made to get these children home.”

Mrs. Ramsey nodded. “We plan to, Mr.
Parker. The safety of our students comes first at all
times.”

Rob
didn’t envy her position, and he knew they had to move on. He
looked to his waiting family and signaled to the double doors.
“Let’s go.”

True to
Rob
’s fears, things only seemed to have
gotten worse outside. Museum security guards had organized a vast
perimeter around the building with barricades and extra guards. He
hurried his family down the stairs outside the museum’s north
entrance, down onto the sidewalk where crowds had assembled along
5th Avenue in a cacophony of pandemonium. Neither Josh nor Kelly
looked prepared for it.

Rob stopped them before
going any farther.
“Stay close to us. We
have a good two miles back to the car.”

They tried to listen, but were
distracted.

“
Why’d you park so far
away?” Josh asked.

Rob outstretched his arm in an
all-encompassing gesture. Easily outnumbering other vehicles,
Yellow taxis filled all three lanes of the 5th Ave and East 82nd
Street intersection near the museum. The roads were filled with
hundreds of people, on the sidewalk and street corners as well. The
NYPD was on the scene, mismatched between riot gear and regular
uniforms, trying to enforce order.

Lines of street vendors defensively
manned their stations, trying to keep up with the demands of the
encircling crowds, growing impatient and demanding food while
waving cash in the air. Local news crews were on site, trying to
get their equipment to work to no avail.

“
What happened?” Josh
asked. “Why are there so many people out here?”

“
Listen to me carefully,”
Rob said, trying to talk over all the noise. “The power grids are
down. Cars have been disabled, along with phones and electronics.
We have to get out of the city. Everything will be OK as long as we
get to the cabin.”

Josh pulled out his cell
phone, powerless like all the others.
“But
I thought it was just something in the museum that shut phones
down.”

“
It’s everywhere,” Rob
said. “Happened about two hours ago. We don’t have a lot of time.
Stick close and follow me.”

Kelly squeezed
Mila
’s hand tightly with one hand while
biting her nails with the other.

People pushed against each other, as
crowds overflowed the area. A child stood near, crying for her
mother. A man carried unconscious female woman along. Rob pushed
back and tried to keep his family from being suffocated. There was
barely anywhere to walk. Barely any space to move.

The alarming sounds of helicopters
further drove the panic. People looked up as five Black Hawk
hovered overhead. Pat the helicopters, a fleet of fighter jets
blasted through the skyline, leaving long trails of smoke behind
them.

Thick black ropes then dropped from
the Black Hawks onto what little space there was on the ground.
Soldiers dressed sleekly in dark, urban-gray fatigues descended
down the ropes with high-powered rifles clipped to their assault
vests. Their abrupt presence startled the already uneasy
crowd.

As the helicopters boomed above,
sending circles of debris into the air, confused people took their
attention off non-functioning phones and tablets and stood in
awe.

“
Dad…” Josh said, pointing
as one soldier effortlessly slid down a rope and landed
nearby.

Rob was caught in the spectacle and
unresponsive.

“
We should go,” Mila said,
pulling Kelly along. “This doesn’t look good.”

Rob ushered Josh along,
following Mila.
“Keep moving. Let’s
go.”

They pushed through a
crowd and crossed the street. Rob pointed up the road.
“Just the way we came. Hurry.”

They stayed close together,
constricted by the crowd, and moved as quickly as possible as more
and more soldiers hit the ground. They wore thick, tinted visor
helmets with no discernible military branch, identification or rank
on their fatigues.

The soldiers brandished rifles with
long, one-hundred round magazines protruding from the ends,
clutching them with black tactical gloves. The wary crowds began
backing away from wherever the soldiers landed. A loud voice blared
over one of the helicopter bullhorns.

“
Please disperse from the
streets now. A tactical clearing will take place in thirty seconds.
Please disperse from the streets…”

“
Tactical clearing?” Mia
said, looking back at Rob. “What are they talking
about?”

As they continued up the
sidewalk, people began moving every which way. The soldiers kept
their rifles aimed forward and began shouting to the people from
under their masks,
“Move! Move!
Move!”

Even the police officers looked
confused. The soldiers announced themselves as an elite urban
tactical unit specializing in crowd control, through their voice
boxes.

“
We’ve been tasked with
clearing the roads to make way for emergency transport,” one
soldier told a police officer through the voice-box on his visor
mask.

The police seemed reluctantly on
board. They began to usher more people off the street, facing
resistance from pedestrians. And while the officers showed
restraint, the soldiers took a much harsher stance. They pulled
noncompliant people out of their vehicles, threw them on the
ground, and clubbed them in the head without hesitation.

Rob urged his family to move faster.
They traveled north up 5th Avenue, desperately trying to reach East
84th Street, three blocks ahead. Rob led them across Madison
Avenue, squeezing past cars, to Park Avenue, where many others were
fleeing.

“
Clear the road!” another
soldier shouted through his voice box. He swung his buttstock and
just missed Rob’s face. Rob shoved on without looking back, keeping
his family close.

Soldiers ascended upon defiant crowds
blocking the road,

“
Get off the street!” they
shouted with their rifles aimed. “Now!”

Smoke grenade canisters flew into the
air and hit the ground, igniting loud pops followed by billows of
purple smoke that dispersed the crowd into disoriented and
frightened packs, trying to escape the noxious fumes.

Those in the thick of the smoke fell
to their knees gagging, with their eyes watering and thick mucus
pouring from their mouths and nostrils.

More canisters flew into the air,
striking the ground, and rolling as they exploded into colorful
clouds that spread down the street. Rob led his family in one long
chain, out of the smoke and farther down the road. The unruly
crowds were getting more dangerous, and he feared a
stampede.

A thundering crash echoed
down the street, followed by an explosion of glass and metal.
People stopped, stunned and frozen in their tracks.
An enormous cargo truck, wide enough to take up
all three lanes, barreled down the street, smashing cars and
heaving them out of the way with its front-end plow
blade.

The machine tossed vehicles to the
side in wrecked heaps, and showed no signs of slowing down. With
smoke billowing from its exhaust pipe, the truck chugged down the
road at a steady speed of thirty miles an hour, tossing cars aside
with startling precision and no regard for anything in its
path.