False Impression (8 page)

By the time Anna
reached the twenty-fourth floor, several bedraggled stragglers were stopping to
take a rest, a few even congregating to exchange anecdotes, while others were
still refusing to leave their offices, unable to believe that a problem on the
ninety-fourth floor could possibly affect them. Anna looked around, desperately
hoping to see a familiar face, perhaps Rebecca or Tina, even Barry, but she
could have been in a foreign land.

“We’ve got a
level three up here, possibly level four,’ a battalion commander was saying
over his radio, ‘so I’m sweeping every floor.’

Anna watched the
commander as he systematically cleared every office. It took him some time
because each floor was the size of a football field.

On the
twenty-first floor, one individual remained resolutely at his desk; he’d just
settled a currency deal for a billion dollars and he was awaiting confirmation
of the transaction.

‘OUT,’ shouted
the battalion commander, but the smartly dressed man ignored the order and
continued tapping away on his keyboard. ‘I said OUT,’ repeated the senior fire
officer, as two of his younger officers lifted the man out of his chair and
deposited him in the stairwell. The unfulfilled broker reluctantly joined the
exodus.

When Anna
reached the twentieth floor, she encountered a new problem. She had to wade
through water that was now pouring in on them from the sprinklers and leaking
pipes on every floor. She stepped tentatively over fragments of broken glass
and flaming debris that littered the stairwell and were beginning to slow
everyone down. She felt like a football fan trying to get out of a crowded
stadium that had only one turnstile. When she finally reached the teens, her
progress became dramatically faster. All the floors below her had been cleared,
and fewer and fewer office staff
were
joining them on
the stairs.

On the tenth
floor, Anna stared through an open door into a deserted office. Computer
screens were still flickering and chairs had been pushed aside as if their
occupants had gone to the washroom and would be back at any moment. Plastic
cups of cold coffee and half-drunk cans of Coke littered almost every surface.

Papers were
scattered everywhere, even on the floor, while silver framed family photographs
remained in place. Someone following closely behind Anna bumped into her, so
she quickly moved on.

By the time Anna
reached the seventh floor, it was no longer her fellow workers, but the water
and flotsam that were holding her up. She was picking her way tentatively
through the debris when she first heard the voice. To begin with, it was faint,
and then it became a little louder. The sound of a megaphone was coming from
somewhere below them, urging her on. ‘Keep moving, don’t look back, don’t use
your cellphones – it slows up those behind you.’

Three more
floors had to be negotiated before she found herself back in the lobby,
paddling through inches of water, and on past the express shuttle elevator that
had whisked her up to her office only a couple of hours before. Suddenly even
more sprinklers jetted down from the ceiling above, but Anna was already
drenched to the skin.

The orders
bellowing from the megaphones were becoming louder and louder by the moment,
and their demands even more strident. ‘Keep moving, get out of the building,
get as far away as you possibly can.’ Not that easy, Anna wanted to tell them.
When she reached the turnstiles she’d passed through earlier that morning, she
found them battered and twisted. They must have been brushed aside by wave
after wave of firemen when they transported their heavy equipment into the building.

“
Anna
felt disorientated and unsure what to do next. Should she wait for her
colleagues to join her? She stood still, but only for a moment, before she
heard another insistent command that she felt was being addressed directly at
her. ‘Keep moving, lady, don’t use your cellphone, and don’t look back.’

‘But where do we
go?’ someone shouted.

‘Down the
escalator, through the mall, and then get as far away from the building as
possible.’

Anna joined die
horde of tired savages as they stepped onto an overcrowded escalator. She
allowed it to carry her down to the concourse before taking another escalator
up to the open promenade, where she often joined Tina and Rebecca for an al
fresco lunch while they enjoyed an open-air concert. No open air now, and certainly
no calming sound of a violin – just another voice bellowing,

‘Don’t look
back, don’t look back.’ An order Anna
disobeyed,
which
not only slowed her down, but also caused her to fall on her knees retching.
She watched in disbelief as first one person then another, who must have been
trapped above the ninetieth floor, jumped out of their office windows to a
certain death rather than face the slow agony of burning. ‘Get back on your
feet, lady, and keep movin’.’

Anna picked herself
up and stumbled forward, suddenly aware that none of the officers in charge of
the evacuation was making eye contact with those fleeing from the building or
even attempting to answer any of their individual questions. She assumed this
must be because it would only slow things down and impede the progress of those
still trying to get out of the building.

When Anna passed
Borders bookshop, she glanced in the window displaying the number-one
bestseller, Valhalla Rising.

‘Keep movin’,
lady,’ a voice repeated, even louder.

Where to?’ she
asked desperately.

‘Anywhere, but
just keep goin’.’

‘In
which direction?’

‘I don’t care,
as long as it’s as far away from the tower as possible.’

Anna spat out
the last bits of vomit as she continued to move away from the building.

When she reached
the entrance to the plaza, she came across firetrucks and ambulances that were
tending to the walking wounded and those who just simply couldn’t manage
another step.

Anna didn’t
waste their time. When she finally reached the road, she looked up to see a
sign with an arrow covered in black grime.

She could just
make out the words ‘City Hall’. Anna began jogging for the first time. Her jog
turned into a run and she started to overtake some of those who had departed
earlier from the lower floors. And then she heard another unfamiliar noise
behind her. It sounded like a clap of thunder that seemed to grow louder and
louder by the second. She didn’t want to look back, but she did.

Anna stood
transfixed as she watched the South Tower collapse in front of her eyes, as if
it had been constructed of bamboo. In a matter of seconds, the remnants of the
building came crashing to the ground, throwing up dust and debris that
mushroomed into the sky, causing a dense mountain of flames and fumes that
hovered for a moment, then began to advance indiscriminately through the
crowded streets, engulfing anyone and everyone who stood in its way.

Anna ran as she
had never run before, but she knew it was hopeless. It could only be a matter
of seconds before the grey ruthless snake was upon her, suffocating all in its
progress. Anna wasn’t in any doubt that she was about to die. She only hoped it
would be quick.

Fenston stared
across at the World Trade Center from the safety of an office on Wall Street.

He watched in
disbelief as a second plane flew directly into the South Tower.

While most New
Yorkers worried about how they could assist their friends, relations and
colleagues at this tragic time, and others what it meant for America, Fenston
had only one thought on his mind.

He and Leapman
had arrived on Wall Street for their meeting with a prospective client only
moments before the first plane crashed into the North Tower. Fenston abandoned
his appointment and spent the next hour on a public telephone in the corridor
trying to contact someone, anyone, in his office, but no one responded to his
calls. Others would have liked to use the phone, but Fenston didn’t budge.
Leapman was carrying out the same exercise on his cellphone.

When Fenston
heard a second volcanic eruption, he left the phone dangling and rushed to the
window. Leapman walked quickly across to join him. They both stood in silence
as they watched the South Tower collapse.

It can’t be long
before the North Tower goes the same way,’ said Fenston.

“Then I think we
can assume that Petrescu will not survive,’ said Leapman, matter-of-factly.

‘I don’t give a
damn about Petrescu,’ said Fenston. ‘If the North Tower goes, then I’ve lost my
Monet, and it isn’t insured.’

A
nna began
running flat out, more and more aware, with each step she took, that everything
around her was becoming quieter. One by one the screams were dying, and she
knew she had to be next. There no longer seemed to be anyone behind her, and
for the first time in her life Anna wanted someone to overtake her, anyone,
just so she didn’t feel like the last person on earth.

She now
understood what it must be like to be pursued by an avalanche at a speed ten
times faster than any human could achieve. This particular avalanche was black.

Anna took deep
breaths as she forced her body to achieve speeds that she had never experienced
before. She lifted her white silk blouse – now black, sodden and crumpled – and
placed it over her mouth, just moments before she was overtaken by the
relentless, all-enveloping grey cloud.

A whoosh of
uncontrolled air hurled her forward and threw her onto the ground, but she
still tried desperately to keep moving.

She hadn’t
managed more than a few feet before she began choking uncontrollably. She
pushed forward for another yard, and then another, until her head suddenly
bumped into something solid. Anna placed a hand on the surface of a wall and
tried to feel her way along. But was she walking away from, or back into, the
grey cloud? Ash, dirt, dust were in her mouth, eyes, ears, nose and hair and
clinging to her skin. It felt as if she was about to be burned alive. Anna
thought about the people she had seen jumping because they felt that must be an
easier way to die. She now understood their feelings, but she had no building
to jump from and could only wonder how much longer it would be before she
suffocated. She took her last step, knelt down on the ground and began to pray.

Our Father...
She felt peaceful, and was about to close her eyes and give way to deep sleep
when out of nowhere she saw a flashing police light. Who art in Heaven... She
made one last effort to get back on her feet and move towards the blue light.
Hallowed he thy name
..
.
but
the car drifted past, unaware of her plaintive cry for help. Thy Kingdom come...
Anna fell once again and cut her knee on the edge of the sidewalk, Thy will he
done.
. . but felt nothing. On earth, as it is in Heaven.
She clung onto the edge of the sidewalk with her right hand and somehow managed
a few more inches. She was about to stop breathing when she thought she touched
something warm. Was it alive? ‘Help,’ she murmured feebly, expecting no
response.

‘Give me your
hand,’ came back the immediate reply. His grip was firm. Try and stand.’

With his help, Anna
somehow pushed herself up. ‘Can you see that triangle of light coming from over
there?’ the voice said, but she couldn’t even see where he was pointing. Anna
turned a complete circle, and stared into 360 degrees of black night.

Suddenly she let
out a muffled yelp of joy when she spotted a ray of sunlight trying to break
through the heavy overcoat of gloom.

She took the
stranger’s hand and they began inching towards a light that grew brighter and
brighter with every step, until she finally walked out of hell and back into
New York.

Anna turned to
the grey ash-coated figure
who
had saved her life. His
uniform was so covered in dirt and dust that if he hadn’t been wearing the
familiar peaked cap and badge she wouldn’t have known that he was a cop. He
smiled and cracks appeared on his face as if he was daubed in heavy makeup.
‘Keep heading towards the light,’ he said, and disappeared back into the murky
cloud before she could thank him. Amen.

Fenston gave up
trying to contact his office only when he saw the North Tower collapse in front
of his eyes. He replaced the receiver and rushed back down the unfamiliar
corridor to find Leapman scrawling SOLD on a ‘To Rent’ board that was attached
to the door of an empty office.

Tomorrow there
will be ten thousand people after this space,’ he explained, ‘so at least
that’s one problem solved.’

Tou may be able
to replace an office, but what you can’t replace is my Monet,’ Fenston said
ungraciously. He paused. ‘And if I don’t get my hands on the Van Gogh Leapman
checked his watch. ‘It should be halfway across the Atlantic by now.’

‘Let’s hope so,
because we no longer have any documentation to prove we even own the painting,’
said Fenston as he looked out of the window and stared at a grey cloud that
hung above the ground where the Twin Towers had once proudly stood.