End of the World

"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Trying to check my email." Jack responds.
"We're on an elevator, you goof."
Jack glares at me, then rolling his eyes. Apparently he couldn't get a connection.

The painfully slow elevator suddenly jerks to a halt. The bounce catches both of us by surprise. As I move toward the control panel the lights flash off. It is so dark that I can't see anything. I fumble for the wall, trying to get my balance.

"What the hell?" Jack asks.

"I don't know, but I am VERY uncomfortable with this, " I say as the sweat beads that had already broken out on my forehead start to roll down my cheek.

The emergency lights start to flicker on, their eerie glow bouncing off the walls of the elevator. I have a reference to the space now, but the walls seem so much closer than they did just a few minutes ago. Jack is staring blankly at me.

"Did you hear that?" he asks.

"What are you talking about..." I try to get out before the entire structure trembles. You can hear the elevator car tapping the frame of the shaft as it rocks back and forth.

"That. Just before that I thought I heard a low boom. Sounded like a big explosion." Jack recalls. "I hope this isn't another 9/11."

"Surely not." I say, my voice wavering.

"You got a pocket knife on you?" Jack asks.

"Yeah, I do. Why?"

As I dig it out of my pocket, Jack grabs it from me and moves to the door. He flips the blade out and begins to pry at the door. The door creaks, but eventually sticks.

"Wanna give me a hand?" Jack asks.

Together we manage to slide the door open. We are between floors. He slides to the lower level, grabbing his backpack. "What the hell?" I hear as I start to wiggle my larger frame through the opening.

As I start to rise from the floor another force almost knocks me down. I can't take my eyes off the window at the end of the hall. What should be a beautiful concrete, glass and steel skyline laced in blue with white puffy clouds is now all ruined. most of the sky has turned to rolling waves of black and tan smoke.

"Is the building on fire?" I ask, trying to get my mind around what I am seeing.

"I don't think so, " replies Jack. "The sprinkler system isn't on. But look through the clouds."

I start to stumble to the window, halfway not wanting to believe what my eyes where now revealing. I can see it, though not very clearly. Our building wasn't on fire. I don't know that anything had happened to our building at all. But beyond it, on the skyline...

Just then an explosion close enough to knock the two of us to the floor was unleashed. All the power that was there before was suddenly extinguished, glass was shattered and a hot wind rushed through the tower floor. I screamed as I could feel the burn at my face. This was hotter than sticking your hand in a 500 degree oven. My next reaction was to try to scramble out of the blast of heat, half running, half limping toward a door. Once in the room I started screaming for Jack. Then the sound of rushing wind stopped.

I could feel the sting on m my face as I reached up to touch my forehead. I jerked back and looked at my hand glaring at the skin that was attached to my fingers.

I peered back out of the room. What happened to Jack. I see a pile of clothes in the hall.

"Jack!" I yell. No response. "Jack, you OK?" again, at the top of my lungs, although it seems my lung capacity has been decreased.

"Jack, are you alright?" Futile.

I hobble to a standing position and slowly work my way out of the door into the hall. Looking down both directions of the hallway I can see that the windows on both sides were blown out. I can hear the slow roar of fire and smell the rancid aroma of sulfur. That was definitely a bomb, but what kind?

While limping over to Jack I see no movement. Kneeling down next to him I slowly roll him to his back. I almost vomit as I watch is face slide off his skull.

The tears sting as they roll down the open wound on my cheeks. I find his PDA, but its dead.

What just happened here? Another 9/11?

An hour later and in deep pain from walking down 32 flights of stairs, I crest the building door. It looks like ground zero. Everything is charred black. Fires are raging all around. As I wonder up the street I notice a definite blast pattern. My stomach is starting to sour. I guess its from the smells, gas and fumes.

Walking past a metal park bench I reach down and quickly touch it to see if its still hot. I start to sway as a dizzy spell hits. I crumble to the bench, my body aching, stinging. I have to assess. I have to gather my thoughts.

Covering the landscape with a slow sweeping look I can tell that the blast came from the East. Bigger buildings somewhat protected the objects directly behind it. I can hear a few cries in the distance. There must be other survivors. I wonder how big the blast radius is.

An uncontrollable urge to vomit hits me. I turn and loose it over the back of the bench. After a few minutes the dry heaves leave me sore. Why am I so sick all of a sudden. It must be some kind of fumes in the air. I wonder if it was chemical plant explosion. There are several near this stretch of corporate Houston. I can hear a plane in the distance. Getting louder.

I shade my eyes as I look in the sky for the plane. The sun is pretty much blotted out, but my eyes seem so much more sensitive now than before the blast. Probably from the fumes too. I then notice a glint in the sky, almost like a small flame. Watching it as it gets closer, the sound of a jet engine getting louder, makes me think that the military is acting on whatever happened.

I can't figure it out though... the plane seems to be at a strange angle to the ground.

Just then the plane nose dives into the ground. Then I see a bright flash of light as I reali