Ground Zero(13)

One of the bankers came back from his office. “Claudia got 911 on the phone,” he reported. “They said to stay put and wait for the firemen.”

Mike shook his head. “Not me. I’m done. I think escaping that elevator deserves taking the rest of the day off.”

The other elevator survivors nodded.

“I am not getting into another elevator. Maybe ever,” Shavinder said. He gestured to the door that led to a stairwell. “It’s eighty-five flights of stairs down, or twenty-two flights up.”

“Up? Why would we go up if that’s where the plane hit?” asked Mike.

“The stairs might still be clear, and they can take us off the roof in helicopters,” Shavinder explained. “They did it once before, in ’93. And it’s a lot shorter trip.”

“I left my purse and things in my office” said Marni.

“You can come back and get them tomorrow,” Shavinder told her.

Stephen coughed. “I can’t go up,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m still having trouble breathing.”

“I’ll help you go down, no worries,” said Mike.

“So will I,” Shavinder said.

Stephen nodded gratefully, and each man took one of Stephen’s arms over their shoulders. Marni followed them. The bankers decided to stay.

Nobody asked Brandon what he wanted to do. Maybe they all just assumed he would go along with the group from the elevator. But when they entered the stairwell and everybody else started going down, Brandon knew he couldn’t go with them. He kept hearing his dad’s voice in his head.

Brandon, what do we say about us? About you and me?

“We’re a team,” Brandon said aloud. “That’s how we survive. Together.”

Brandon tied the wet napkin back around his face and started to climb the stairs up to Windows on the World.





Reshmina took a deep breath and made her decision.

“I am here,” she told the soldier in English. “I will go and bring my father to help you.”

“No, wait,” the soldier said. “Please. Don’t leave me. I can’t see.” He reached out a hand.

Reshmina took a step back and shook her head, then remembered the soldier couldn’t see her. “I cannot touch you,” she told him. It was forbidden for a woman or girl to touch a man who wasn’t related to her.

Anguish and frustration creased the soldier’s face. “Right. Of course,” he said, lowering his hand. He sniffed, fighting back tears.

Reshmina understood why the soldier was distraught. He was badly injured and alone. Reshmina was his only hope for survival, and if she left him now, he couldn’t be sure she would return.

She had a thought. “I cannot touch you, and I cannot bring you back to my home without asking my father first,” Reshmina said. “Instead, I will walk back to my home very slowly—”

“No, please,” the soldier said again, cutting her off. “Don’t leave me!”

Reshmina huffed. He wouldn’t let her finish! “I will walk back to my home very slowly,” Reshmina said again. “And I will practice my English out loud along the way. If somebody happens to follow me, there is nothing I can do to stop them.”

Reshmina saw the soldier relax, then nod. “I understand,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

Reshmina turned around and began walking slowly back toward her house. She opened her notebook and practiced her English lessons again.

“Thank you for inviting me to the movies with you,” she read aloud.

She glanced behind her. The soldier was struggling to crawl after her, but at least he was moving.

Reshmina kept reading. “It was very nice to meet you. I will friend you on Facebook.”

As she walked and read out loud, Reshmina scanned the hillside, afraid that at any moment a Taliban fighter would jump out from behind some bush or twisted tree and kill both her and the soldier behind her. It was silly—she could see no one else was around. But if she was caught …

At last Reshmina reached her house. The American soldier was still struggling, but he was with her. She led him into the goat pen out back and latched the gate.

“Stay here until I bring my father,” Reshmina whispered. “You are safe.”

The soldier didn’t answer. He was too exhausted. He lay motionless on the ground as the goats butted him gently.

Reshmina ran inside the house. Her grandmother still sat in the women’s room doing needlework, and Zahir played in a corner.

“Anaa! Where’s Baba? I need him!” Reshmina cried.

“He just left to go down to the fields,” her grandmother said. “What—?” she began to ask, but Reshmina was already running out the front door and down the stairs. Baba was slow on his crutch, and Reshmina quickly overtook him.

“Baba! Baba! Come quickly, please!” she shouted. “There’s something I have to show you!”

Baba nodded, looking concerned, and Reshmina hurried him back to the goat pens. Baba stopped short and gasped when he saw the American soldier lying facedown in the dirt.

“How did this man come to be here?” Baba asked.

“I don’t know, Baba,” Reshmina said. “He must have followed me home when I was collecting wood.”