Ground Zero(52)

Together, Brandon, Pratik, and Gayle were able to lift the layers of drywall high enough for Richard to crawl out. When Richard was free, Brandon dropped to his knees and threw his arms around him.

“Brandon!” Richard cried, hugging him back. “I couldn’t hear and couldn’t see. I thought I’d been blinded and deafened by the blast, so I just started singing. I couldn’t even hear myself, but I hoped somebody else would. And you did. You saved my life, kid.”

“Now we’re even,” Brandon said. He wasn’t sure Richard heard him, but he’d make sure he told him again later.

“We need to find one of the exits up onto the street,” Pratik told them.

Brandon didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let Richard go, but he knew they had to get out of here. And he’d kept the others waiting long enough.

Richard was wobbly and had to lean on Brandon to stand, but he could make it.

“Which way do we go? I still can’t see a thing,” Gayle said.

“What if we walk right into a hole in the floor, and fall down into a subway tunnel?” Pratik asked.

Something crunched in the near distance, like rock shifting, and the ceiling groaned.

“I don’t think we have a lot of choice,” Brandon said.

“We have to try,” said Gayle. She took their hands. “Human chain.”

Brandon went first. He was closest to the ground and could feel his way as they went. Pratik was the biggest of them, and he took over helping Richard walk.

Brandon moved very slowly, pushing his waterlogged sneakers forward an inch. Then another inch. Then another. The darkness was total and complete. Pratik was right; the blast might have blown holes in the floor. Would he stumble into a hole and fall to his death? Walk straight into a broken window and slice himself into pieces? Brandon had to fight down his panic. The only way out of here was if they all kept their cool.

Brandon kicked things as he went—broken glass, pieces of drywall, wet clothes, soda cups, shoes, boxes with unknown things in them. He called out warnings about obstacles to the others when he could.

Without his sight, Brandon focused on his other senses. He reached out with his hands, but also listened for clues in the sound of the water at their feet and the creaking of the building. He used his nose too. What was that smell? Something made him think of bananas and pink grapefruit, and he frowned. What in the mall would smell like that? He ran through the shop directory in his head. Was there a smoothie place here? No. There was a Ben & Jerry’s and a yogurt place, but those were very different smells.

Suddenly he had it, and he stopped.

“We’re going the wrong way!” he told the others.

“How do you know?” Pratik asked.

“Smell that? Bananas and pink grapefruit? We’re near the Body Shop! That’s the smell of hair and hand stuff!”

“Oh my God, he’s right,” said Gayle. “I can smell the ginger shampoo!”

Brandon turned the group around, following the map in his head. He moved more confidently now, and in his hurry he ran right into something shin-high. Gayle tried to hang onto him, but the thing was big and hard and hollow, and Brandon fell down face-first on top of it.

“Ow!” Brandon cried. His shins screamed in pain, and his right hand where he was cut stung all over again.

“Brandon! You okay?” Richard called.

“Yes,” Brandon grunted.

A fuzzy wet furball bumped into his arm in the water, and Brandon jerked back in disgust. A rat! New York City was full of rats. There had to be a bunch of them down here right now, trying to survive like Brandon and the others. The thought horrified him, and he scrambled to get away. In his panic, his hand brushed another of the furballs, and he felt its big fingers.

Its big fingers?

Brandon put his hand back out in the darkness, afraid but curious, and felt for one of the furry things. It had arms and legs and big cloth eyes and teeth, and a tag sewn into the side. Brandon sagged with relief. He would have laughed if he hadn’t been so afraid. He’d been frightened by a harmless stuffed animal!

Gayle helped him back to his feet, and Brandon ran his hands over the big, hollow thing he’d run into. It had all kinds of weird curves and contours, and was slick and cool and smooth, like fiberglass covered with a varnish. What was Brandon touching?

A very recent memory came back to him, and he turned excitedly to the others.

“It’s the statue of Bugs Bunny!” Brandon said. “We’re at the Warner Bros. Store! We’re going in the right direction!”

They couldn’t get past the debris near the Sunglass Hut, but Brandon knew there was another way around, past the FILA store with its sportswear and sneakers. That would take them right to the exit to Vesey Street, next to the Duane Reade. They could get out there!

Brandon told the others the plan, and they were off again. Brandon went slowly. Achingly slowly. But he wasn’t eager to repeat his Bugs Bunny collision with something that could be a lot more dangerous—like the railing to the PATH escalators.

Deet-deet-deet-doot. De-de-deet-doot.

The sound of a cell phone ringing out in the darkness made them all jump, then stop in their tracks.

“It’s a Nokia,” said Pratik. “My wife has one just like it. She’s not here, thank God,” he added.

Deet-deet-deet-doot. De-de-deet-doot.