Yield (25 page)

“
Keep pushing,
”
Terra pleads.

Debbie screams in pain as the fire moves across the cabin wall next to her. Flames lap hungrily at their next victim. Heat blisters the plastic canopy sides.

“
Hold on!
”
she hears. The British voice sounds like an angel flying through the smoke.

Devin lunges at the wreckage, twisting and pulling violently at the crushed pile of seats in front of them. The plastic gives slightly, but not enough. He turns, breaking a long shaft of metal off what
’
s left of a chair rail, and pries at the warped restraints. His back arches. His arms shake. The fireman strains with every ounce of his body.

Slowly at first, an opening forms as part of the debris finally bends forward.
Just a little more
…

The metal pole snaps, slamming Devin into the seats behind him.

“
Take her!
”
Debbie screams. The searing flames continue to close in. Their heat is unbearable.

“
No!
”
Terra yells.

Devin grabs the teenager
’
s arms and pulls at her. She screams, trying to twist her body through the small opening.

“
Go, Terra!
”
Debbie cries.

The fire is one row back from Debbie now. It shoots up the cabin beside her. The intense heat begins to melt the designer handbag in Terra
’
s seat.

“
Mom!
”
Terra screams, finally coming free. The plane window blackens and bubbles.

Devin and Terra pull with all their strength at Debbie
’
s arms, but her legs are pinned tight beneath the wreckage.

Waves of hot ash and flame overtake them. They gasp for breath as the fire burns hotter and hotter. It steals oxygen and hope from the very air around them. Debbie looks back in panic, starting to scream out in pain.
“
Get her out of here! Please!
”

“
No, keep pulling!
”
Terra orders Devin. Her mother writhes in front of her breaking eyes.
“
Mom! Mom!!
”

A sudden calm comes over Debbie. She looks deep into her daughter
’
s sapphire eyes.
“
I love you, Terra.
”

Devin watches on in horror.
“
I
’
m sorry,
”
he says softly to Terra.
“
I can
’
t
…
”

The flames begin to eat away from behind Debbie, completely engulfing her within seconds. Devin releases the wreckage and grabs Terra, forcing her back.

“
No!
”
Terra yells.
“
What are you doing? Mom!
”

Flames surround mother and daughter
’
s hands, ripping them apart. Tears roll down Devin
’
s face. He backs away, covering Terra
’
s eyes as he pulls her with him.

“
I
’
m so sorry, love,
”
he whispers.

“
Mom! I love you
…
”
Terra pleads.

Devin drags the teenager backward out of the plane. The girl screams out, her body racking with a pain far beyond grief. Beyond anger. She shakes with an inconsolable sadness, creating a void so deep in her soul that it cuts completely through her.

Light begins to grow brighter as they back out of the chaos. Piercing white washes over them, paired with the sweetest and coolest of spring breezes. Devin squints at the blinding light. He turns to help Terra down from the wreckage.

The aircraft
’
s fuel suddenly ignites behind them. The massive explosion buckles the plane upward, throwing survivors outside from their feet. The force is like a sledgehammer smashing into Devin. His head snaps violently back, tossing them both to the ground.

Pain courses through his body. Devin
’
s eyes flutter. He gulps for air, trying to refill his lungs after having the wind knocked free. Groggily, he crawls off the debris and pulls himself up. Smoke swirls all around.

Dark and stormy skies greet the survivors as rain falls onto remnants of the dead city. Devin shields his eyes, the burning sun soon blotted out by rising tendrils of smoke. The skyline is gone. Only broken girders remain, their skeletons clawing above the shattered horizon.

Several flashlights kick on inside the KOMO newsroom. Dust rises through the shafts of light sweeping the room for
life
. Jonathon pushes away the ceiling tiles and broken fixtures lying on top of him, stumbling forward into the black. His feet trip over wreckage and wounds
—
stopping for neither. Unable to see anything else, Jon forces his way toward the flashlights
’
serene glow.

The flickering has now stopped, but the stench of burnt electronics remains. Toxic fumes from the melted circuit boards spread through Jonathon
’
s lungs. He coughs violently, trying to get the metallic taste out of his mouth. The stink of silicon and flesh fill his mind. He covers his nose with the tattered sleeve of a four-figure suit coat.

The unmoving shapes of his friends and colleagues litter the floor all around. A faint glimmer of light catches his eye. Jonathon leans closer, seeing a bright reflection in the glasses of KOMO
’
s news director. The award-winning journalist is silhouetted against the dim spill of flashlights, lying where they were both standing just moments before.

Hearing Mitch moan, Jonathon pulls a shattered light off and throws it aside. Shadows deepen as the flashlights move around the newsroom. The blackness in Jonathon
’
s eyes seems to spread the more he focuses them, almost like staring into the edges of a black hole.

“
I
’
m here, Mitch,
”
Jonathon says. He smears at the thick dust on his glasses and kneels down.

Jon lifts Mitch
’
s head with shaking hands, rolling him onto his back. He can feel Mitch cough weakly in his arms.
“
You
’
ll be alright,
”
Jonathon says.
“
Help is coming.
”

“
Come on! Over here,
”
he shouts, looking impatiently into the dark. Two triangles of light begin heading right towards them.
Thank God
.

Gently at first, Jonathon feels a hand on his right shoulder tugging from behind.
“
What the hell?
”
he shouts. Hands begin to pull harder from the shadows.
“
We need your help! Mitch may be hurt
…
”
But Jonathon stops. His veins turn to ice.

Jon looks down at the growing pool of dark liquid he
’
s kneeling in. The dancing arc from a flashlight behind him sparkles in the dead eyes of Mitch Davis. A long gash runs across his neck, almost severing his round head.

Jonathon lunges backward. He trips and falls, scrambling back like an animal into the darkness. He stumbles over people and rubble—anything that separates him from the gleaming metal stairs. Cries for help from the injured race by him.

“
Please!
”

He hears nothing but his legs moving over the wreckage, crawling. Pulling. Jonathon begins frantically up the stairs.

“
Please
…
”

As he reaches the first floor, he slams headlong into a wall of debris. Fear surges through him.
I can
’
t breathe.
Jonathon claws at the wreckage. Air catches in his lungs. The sounds of his own gasping bounce loudly back from the gravestone walls.

Splinters of light peek through cracks in the concrete and metal. Jonathon rips at the chaos, throwing pieces of lives behind him. Tears of panic spring into his eyes. He cracks the right lens of his glasses just to wipe them all away. Jon digs into the rubble with a desperate ferocity.
I can
’
t breathe
…

Hot rain drops hit the man
’
s skin as he crawls out into a changed world. His breathing slows
—
shock overcoming fear.

Jonathon struggles to his feet. He looks around at an obliterated landscape. Scraps of burnt paper fall like the snows of December all around. Just blocks from what used to be the Space Needle, Seattle
’
s greatest landmarks lie in pieces upon a scorched earth. Jonathon looks up. There is no sign of the top three floors of KOMO
’
s structure, nor the people who once occupied them. Only ruins and death surround as far as the eye can see.

A scrap of cardboard flutters gracefully through the sky before landing beside him. He pulls it out from under the edge of some broken concrete. Charred and bloodstained, it reads: THE END IS HERE. Slowly, the sign falls from his trembling hands.

Several flashlights kick on inside the KOMO newsroom. Dust rises through the shafts of light sweeping the room for
life
. Jonathon pushes away the ceiling tiles and broken fixtures lying on top of him, stumbling forward into the black. His feet trip over wreckage and wounds
—
stopping for neither. Unable to see anything else, Jon forces his way toward the flashlights
’
serene glow.

The flickering has now stopped, but the stench of burnt electronics remains. Toxic fumes from the melted circuit boards spread through Jonathon
’
s lungs. He coughs violently, trying to get the metallic taste out of his mouth. The stink of silicon and flesh fill his mind. He covers his nose with the tattered sleeve of a four-figure suit coat.

The unmoving shapes of his friends and colleagues litter the floor all around. A faint glimmer of light catches his eye. Jonathon leans closer, seeing a bright reflection in the glasses of KOMO
’
s news director. The award-winning journalist is silhouetted against the dim spill of flashlights, lying where they were both standing just moments before.

Hearing Mitch moan, Jonathon pulls a shattered light off and throws it aside. Shadows deepen as the flashlights move around the newsroom. The blackness in Jonathon
’
s eyes seems to spread the more he focuses them, almost like staring into the edges of a black hole.

“
I
’
m here, Mitch,
”
Jonathon says. He smears at the thick dust on his glasses and kneels down.

Jon lifts Mitch
’
s head with shaking hands, rolling him onto his back. He can feel Mitch cough weakly in his arms.
“
You
’
ll be alright,
”
Jonathon says.
“
Help is coming.
”

“
Come on! Over here,
”
he shouts, looking impatiently into the dark. Two triangles of light begin heading right towards them.
Thank God
.

Gently at first, Jonathon feels a hand on his right shoulder tugging from behind.
“
What the hell?
”
he shouts. Hands begin to pull harder from the shadows.
“
We need your help! Mitch may be hurt
…
”
But Jonathon stops. His veins turn to ice.

Jon looks down at the growing pool of dark liquid he
’
s kneeling in. The dancing arc from a flashlight behind him sparkles in the dead eyes of Mitch Davis. A long gash runs across his neck, almost severing his round head.

Jonathon lunges backward. He trips and falls, scrambling back like an animal into the darkness. He stumbles over people and rubble—anything that separates him from the gleaming metal stairs. Cries for help from the injured race by him.

“
Please!
”

He hears nothing but his legs moving over the wreckage, crawling. Pulling. Jonathon begins frantically up the stairs.