Chapter Six

Heavy Air

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…Pseudovector… intrinsic angular momentum… entropic uncertainty relations… wave-particle duality…

...Somebody get those kids away from the fence and get another hose in here…

"Huh?" Donatello opened his eyes and watched the stars waver behind billows of smoke. His ears were ringing, but he was certain he had just heard a stranger's voice.

"I want that area over there cleared out! And have those ambulances pull back, there's nobody here that needs 'em."

What the shell…? Don turned his head to the side and saw people. Lots of people. Police officers, firemen, reporters… too many people. I gotta get out of here… he thought, grinding his teeth.

He acted without stopping to think, leaping to his feet and running through the mob of humans, desperate for the shadows at the edge of the lot. He didn't stop to see if he was being followed, didn't try to step around the debris in his path. He leaped over everything, including a moving police car that he was certain he wouldn't be able to clear. His improvised escape route led him to a large hole in the fence and he slipped through, sprinting past a group of teens that seemed more interested in the spectacle three hundred feet away than the big green mutant that ran right in front of them.

Finally stopping in an alley, Don slid himself next to a wall, sequestering himself in the darkness. He put his hand on his chest, breathing hard. The air felt dense in his lungs and he figured he must have been breathing smoke in for quite a while. So long a while, in fact, that he could no longer smell it though it blanketed the area. He took one long breath, then another. It didn't help, his lungs still felt heavy after several long minutes away from the heart of the smoke.

After a time, Don dared to step foreword, looking intently at the demolished building that he had, not long ago, been standing inside. Everything from the third floor up was gone, blown away by the force of the explosion. The rest of the structure was now on fire and flaming hunks of unidentifiable material fell from the crumbling walls, shattering on the ground below. Donatello shook his head, amazed that he had managed to survive the destruction. He had been right there--right next to the silver box when it overloaded. He could still see the flames and twisted metal rushing at him, could still feel the heat that surrounded him.

I must have fallen out the window, he thought. Shell, I'm lucky.

Don's thoughts turned from himself to his brothers. The last time he saw them they had been standing on a semi trailer directly below the window, farther away from the overloading device than he had been. If he had come through the blast in one piece, they must have been able to, as well -- and they were probably assuming that the worst had happened to him. Snapping his fingers, Don swung his bag around and unzipped it, reaching inside, past Mikey's now-crushed snacks to the gear at the bottom. His hand slid here and there among the crumb-covered instruments, then his fingers closed around his ShellCell. He pulled it out and clicked it open, punching a few buttons before holding the phone to his ear.

But all he could hear was silence. There was no ringing, no answer, no static… nothing. He lowered the device and flipped it over, pulling the casing off the back and examining the wires within and shaking his head.

Maybe that dumb box fried it, he thought, slipping the cover back on.

He threw the ShellCell back in his bag and crossed his arms. He couldn't call his brothers, so he would have to try and find them.

Best place to start is home, he thought. At least I can get Master Splinter to help me look for them if they aren't there.

Don made his way to a nearby manhole and reached down, putting his fingers through the holes on the top and trying to lift. It didn't budge. He took a heavy breath and tried again, pulling up as hard as he could, but the lid was stuck tight. Deciding it was best to search for a more accommodating access point, he slid out of the alley, then down two more. Another manhole came into view and he kneeled down, grabbing the lid and straining as he tried to raise it. Nothing happened. Don let go of the lid and looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers.

What did that thing do, knock all the strength out of me? he thought, rubbing his palms together. Think, Don… I gotta' find the guys. But how..?

"Casey and April!" he yelled.

He cringed at his unintended volume and listened for his voice to echo back from the walls surrounding him. But the echoes didn't come, and after a few moments it occurred to him how flat and dull his voice had sounded to begin with. Then again, he was surprised he could still hear at all, after how loud the explosion had been. He rubbed his ears, trying to chase out whatever was affecting his hearing, and snuck to the corner of the alley, peeking around. He ran to another alley across the street and started to make his way to the other end; but footsteps approached and he stopped, crouching down in the shadows as a flashlight beam cut through the darkness. The light passed over him, then moved along. He heard radio static and a voice spoke up.

"I guess all those kids finally went home for the night. Lets get some tape up before…" the voice diminished as the officer walked away.

Don smiled, wondering what Leo would say about his stealth skills now. He hadn't even been seen with the beam of a flashlight directly on top of him. He chuckled lightly to himself and stood, sprinting down the alley, then into another. He ran on that way for quite a while, ducking behind parked cars and dodging past late-night wanderers, eventually finding his way to the familiar sign that hung over April's antique store. He crept behind the building and let out a disappointed breath when he saw that her van was not there. A quick climb up the fire escape and a peek in her window confirmed that April was not at home.

Great, he thought. That leaves Casey.

Don leaped to the sidewalk and began running again, ducking down more alleys, hiding behind more cars, and slipping past even more humans. Fed up with running, he stopped at a manhole and tried to lift the cover. But it seemed that the strength in his arms had not yet returned and the lid didn't move at all, no matter how hard he struggled with it. He let go of the cover and jumped on it, more out of irritation than the thought that the action might actually have any effect -- which it didn't.

He reluctantly continued on his way and was tired and frustrated by the time he got to Casey's apartment; and that frustration was only made worse when he realized that Casey's motorcycle was gone, as April's van had been. Donatello let himself catch his breath for a few moments before sneaking up the fire escape and looking into the apartment. It was dark inside, but Don could see well enough to tell that Casey was not there.

He must have gone out, Don thought, knowing well what "going out", for Casey really meant. He could have picked a better night for beating on Purple Dragons.

Don hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the bottom of the window and tried to pull up. Wonderful, he thought, aggravated by--though not overly surprised at--his inability to budge it. If I were Raph, I'd just break the glass… then Casey'd kill me. He sat down on the fire escape and yawned. Hopefully he won't be out long.

Stretching, Don leaned his shell against the brick wall and closed his eyes, intending to rest them for only a moment. He didn't notice when he dropped off to sleep.

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Continued...