Read the previous chapters to get an idea of where we are now. Your comments and votes are appreciated.
As always, my editor MsRoseEvans was an invaluable help.
Trying a few new things here. Experimenting by adding a quote which is related to the events in this chapter and a flash-forward to start with. Let me know if they make the story more appealing.
---
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger"- Nietzsche
Dana lay face down on the road. She had numerous injuries all over her body. Her limbs were in excruciating pain. Using all her strength, she lifted her head to see Kyle sprawled unconscious just a few feet away from her. The only thought which came to her mind, was that they would die in this godforsaken place, far away from home.
FOUR MONTHS EARLIER
Kyle Walsh woke up, sweaty and gasping for breath. He had the same nightmare again. Once again, he just stood watching as the two mighty towers collapsed, with his parents inside. It had been just a week since the event, but that was still enough time for him to dream about it again. Almost providentially, he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. His scream had woken Dana up as well. She had her own demons regarding what had happened, but hid them better.
She knew that he did not need any drugs or booze to tide over his pain. He just needed her, the way that she needed him. She wrapped both arms around his head and held him tightly. He did not cry, just held her back as tightly as he could. Their grief went beyond tears. Their parents had left before they were properly established in life. In the blink of an eye, their two passenger boat was sailing in uncharted waters, rudderless.
"Dana, is today the day?"
"Yes. Today is the day we have to go down to the morgue."
The day Kyle had been dreading was finally here. The rescue workers had finally unearthed all the bodies from under the rubble. Most of them were battered beyond recognition. The identification would have to be done through personal items.
In a dull, robotic haze the Walsh siblings got up and started getting ready for the day. It seemed to take significant effort to do the simplest things. Finally, they mustered up enough strength to change their clothes. The skyline outside the window looked different. The two missing skyscrapers seemed like a yawning gap, a gaping wound in the heart of Manhattan which would never heal.
Outside, the streets were as busy as always, but something was missing. There were people moving from place to place in haste, but the vitality and energy was gone. The collective soul of the citizens would take some time to heal. They took a cab to the morgue.
The morgue was teeming with people from all different walks of life, all unified in mourning. The bodies were laid on the floor and covered, and each body had a number. At the main counter, friends and family would gather to identify a personal item, and then be led to the number it came from.
They walked on past rows of bodies. A gust of wind lifted the shroud off the face of someone. Kyle stopped as he fully digested the sickening sight. The face was smashed beyond recognition. That pulp had once been someone, male judging by the height and clothes. Somebody's husband, boyfriend, brother, son or father; reduced to a number.
"That could be Dad," was their single thought.
Finally they arrived at the main counter. The room behind it had been converted to a grotesque gallery of personal items. A horde of people were shuffling from one item to the next, looking. Their blank expressions told a story. Occasionally, the still air would be punctuated by a cry of anguish.
Someone had been identified.
They joined the group as they saw the items on the shelves. Broken chains, pendants, engagement rings; each item told a story. At the far end of this room, Dana suddenly came to a halt in front of a case. She clutched Kyle's arm tightly as he took a close look.
It was an antique watch. The front glass was shattered, but the hands kept ticking in a hideous rhythm. Trembling, Kyle took it in his hand and turned it over. 'Property of Greg Walsh' was carefully engraved on the reverse side. Also in the same case was their mother's three-gem wedding ring. Numbers 1504 and 1505.
The volunteer tried her best to console them as she led them to the bodies. Dana kept crying hysterically, only stopping intermittently to wipe her eyes. Kyle's grief somehow seemed beyond tears as he moved along mechanically. They passed several other grieving widows, children, friends and more, as they made their way to the two beds.
Number 1504 was their father. They immediately recognized his suit. He had put on his best one to celebrate his daughter's first day at work. His entire body was mangled and destroyed. Just beside him was an equally unrecognizable figure. Their mother still had some parts of her face intact. Still sobbing, Dana put the ring back on her finger, knowing she would have wanted it that way.
They went to the main counter and signed for the bodies. Now all that was left was the arrangements for a funeral.
Still in a daze, they made the arrangements for the bodies to be transferred to the funeral home. The owner was a family friend and he promised to take care of all the arrangements. They would have to come upstate to settle the finances afterwards. They made their way downtown to the subway.
Normally, a New York subway station is the epitome of life and vitality, with constant chatter and incessant laughter as people hurried around. In the aftermath, however, there was no liveliness in the crowd of people who waited listlessly to catch their train.
A shrill cry penetrated the uneasy silence. All eyes turned in the direction of the sound. It was an elderly woman desperately pointing towards the tracks. Everybody shifted their gaze to see a young woman lying motionless between the train lines. She was unconscious. Soon, the now familiar feeling of dread washed over everyone in the station. They looked on in horror as she did not move.
Dana looked on fearfully and tried to reach out and hold her brother for support, but all she found was air. Kyle was no longer there beside her. She started scanning the crowd for him, but to no avail. Finally, there was a more pronounced gasp by the entire station which drew her attention back to the rails.
Kyle was standing between the tracks, just a few feet away from the girl. He bent down and tried to wake her, but it was no good. He kept trying but she refused to budge. Onlookers extended their arms, willing him to lift the body and put it within reach. He tried to lift her, but her dead weight was too much. He used all his strength but barely got her off the ground. That was when he heard the oncoming train.
He had never been so scared in his entire life as when he saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Like a monstrous metallic beast, the train thundered towards them. The driver immediately pressed the emergency brakes, but everybody knew that it would be of no use. The momentum of the train would take it over the two bodies on the track.
