Read Online Skyline by Zach Milan - Free Book Online

faces, their pants drenched with water. They collected on
the new shoreline, standing in a line, watching with wide eyes and open mouths.
    Sirens
erupted city wide. Hoarse chatter, screams, and sobs filled the air. On all
sides, people tiptoed to the edge of the newly-formed river, staring in shock.
Horrified laughter bubbled out of a nearby man’s mouth.
    Beside
her, Bill whispered, “What the fuck was that?”
    “No
one ever figured out what caused it,” Monroe said. “Why there wasn’t any
debris, rubble, or heat.”
    “In
Idaho they taught that it was a bomb, but that wasn’t anything like a
bomb.”
    A
white, heatless light. Things vanishing into thin air. Maybe this was why
Leanor had demanded a visit to the Blast. This wasn’t a bomb; Bill was right.
    Then
what was it?
    “We’re
missing something,” Charlotte said, turning from the vanished buildings, the
still-churning dark water, to Monroe. “We’re supposed to be seeing something,
but I can’t. Tell us, ’Roe. Tell us what happens today.”
    He
lifted his hands. “It’s nothing you don’t know, Char.”
    “Try.” There was something here, and Charlotte didn’t want
to have to go back through time to re-watch the Blast. She couldn’t take
watching the event again. Couldn’t just stand here as a sobbing line of people
formed along the shoreline. “Please.”
    Shaking
his head, Monroe began, “Power’s knocked out on the Triangle. Immediately, as
soon as the Blast happened, it was out. Toilets won’t work there for months,
contractors working overtime to repair all the pipes. The Circle Line boats
have to come in, cart people to and fro until they build new water taxis and
gondolas.”
    “No.”
Charlotte’s voice came out too harsh.  “ Today , ’Roe. Not tomorrow
or months from now.” Even though she’d been there, she needed his memory. He
taught the Blast every year. Maybe he’d know something she hadn’t seen.
    Monroe’s
hands curled into fists. “What do you want from me, Char?! Today? Today was
awful. All of these people?” He flung an arm out toward a gathering mass on the
shoreline near the subway. “They’re going to keep sobbing at their homes, if
they still have homes. Hundreds of New York’s Finest will take to the
streets, but what can they do? Thousands of people will die, trapped on
subways, too confused to escape the water, even if they get out of their metal
coffins.
    “The only good thing that comes out of today is the people who do good. Who
give up food for those who don’t have any. Who offer their homes to others. Who
gather when their TVs won’t work to console one another, to be together .
That’s it.”
    Monroe
fitted his arms over his chest, gritted his teeth, and stared out, finished. He
wasn’t going to say another word now. She’d pushed too far.
    And
he was right. Today was an awful, horrible day.
    Would
Leanor have called this time “perfect,” too?
    Charlotte’s
gut ached. Bill’s face was contorted, his gaze on the people beside the subway.
Charlotte crossed in front of Monroe, letting him stew, and whispered to Bill,
“Time is malleable?”
    He
whipped his head to her, squinted, then nodded.
    “Then
why are we standing here?”
    “You
mean?”
    Charlotte’s
gaze slid back to the subway entrance, and Bill turned his head to follow. With
a nod, he looked back to her. “Thousands drowned in the subways, right, ’Roe?”
    “What?
Yes. Why?”
    Charlotte
didn’t answer Monroe’s question. They’d have time later to figure out what was
going on. Time to figure out why Leanor sent them here. For now, Charlotte
needed to act. She hadn’t been able to save Leanor from death, not yet. But
that didn’t mean that every death was fixed.
    Bill
met her eyes, and she found herself connected to him once more. “We’re going,”
Bill said to Monroe. “We have to.”
    “Going?
Going where?” Monroe tugged at Charlotte’s shoulder. “Why would you do that?
Thousands died in the subway