James
“Get back. Get back….” Police push the moronic reporter back to a safe distance.
Straining my vision to pick out the detail, way up, I see a doll-sized figure being winched away from the rooftop and into one of the choppers. A minute later, and another follows.
Is that them?
Is she safe?
The clenching in my gut, visceral and nauseous, begs that it be so, but from so far away, I simply cannot be sure it was Beth and my Green-Eyes I have seen. My breathing is short and shallow. Deliberately, I take a couple of deep breaths, filling my lungs, trying to clear my head and the smog around my thinking.
The choppers are sweeping away across the City. As I watch them, something else dawns on me. Something missing.
Where are they all?
It's an office building. There should be people leaning out of windows. Crying for help. Waving arms. Screaming.
There is no-one
In the background, I hear the reporter again.