September 26, 2008
The Liberty, Lower Manhattan, NY
Olivia sat up slowly, shielding her face with her hands as the winds gusted in through the broken window. All that remained were the fragments of glass that lined the inside of the wooden frame.
Elliot sat in disbelief, his vision mostly blurred by the gusts as he attempted a peek at the destruction outside. Now where the hell would they go?
At the very least, they had to get the hell out of there. The place was getting ransacked, and the floor was covered in glass shards and whatever else was carried in by the gusts.
Throughout the suite, lamps had toppled over and framed pictures, mirrors and maps on the walls had crashed to the ground. Two stacks of papers which Jim had left in a manila folder on the floor were tossed into the wind, scattering throughout the room. Two of his paper maps flapped loosely from the walls, each one getting torn to shreds.
Realizing her arm wasn't protecting her enough, Olivia finally lifted the edge of the blanket up, blocking her face from the wind.
Elliot shielded his face and climbed out of bed. He went strictly on impulse, grabbing their garage-worn, but sturdier clothes and shoes in case they had to leave the building.
"Where would we go?"Olivia asked, raising her voice above the racket.
Elliot shook his head and shouted back, "I don't know. Somewhere without a window."
"The bathroom?" she suggested.
He thought for a second and then nodded. It saved her from having to walk anywhere so he was sold immediately.
They hurriedly pulled on their jeans, sweatshirts, jackets and shoes. Olivia struggled with her jeans and boots and finally decided to leave her right boot untied.
As he finished, Elliot went around to her side of the bed and offered to assist her. She of course declined and chose to hop on one foot until she was inside the bathroom.
Then he went back out into the room, staying low to avoid the brunt of the gusts. He grabbed the lantern, which had also rolled off onto the floor. Fortunately it was only cracked in one spot and not broken.
He hurried back inside the bathroom, lit the lantern with the matches in his pocket and placed it on the counter. He found a spot on the counter and hoisted himself up. His hand immediately went up to his face, which after finally getting out of the room and away from the gusts, had begun to sting. He suspected that he had tiny cuts on his face, but that was the least of his problems.
With lack of anything better to do, Elliot glanced around at his surroundings. The bathroom was small, but tastefully decorated in warm, rich colors. There was one small sink basin with mostly brass fixtures. A few personal effects of Jim's such as combs, spare toothbrushes and a travel bag for an electric razor remained on the counter. Between the lantern, the sink, and Jim's belongings, Elliot had about two and a half feet worth a space with which to sit. The bathtub on the other hand was large, took up about half of the space of the bathroom and had jets installed.
Olivia sat on the closed toilet lid and kept quiet.
"You okay?" he asked, reaching his hand down to touch her shoulder.
"Yeah," she responded.
They were in closed quarters, yet he felt miles apart from her. Sure they were both groggy, frustrated by their predicament, and in a lot of pain.
He thought he should at least be able to reach out and comfort her. But this thing with them was still too new. He felt about as useless as he did that day when he approached her about Sealview.
Elliot tried to quiet his frustrations as he reflected back on what they had been through with this storm already. He and Olivia were safe and really, that was about the best position for them to be in.
And he wouldn't soon forget the panic he felt when he couldn't find her at all. At the same time, her condition didn't stop him from worrying. Particularly when they still had to think about getting out of that hotel.
Several minutes dragged on where not a word was said and all they could hear were the eerie sounds of Jim's suite getting demolished.
Then, something out of the corner of Elliot's left eye caught his attention.
A dark liquid was coming up through the pipes and was starting to fill the sink basin and the bath tub. It was dark like mud and probably had a dozen or so substances in it. It also had a strong chemical smell to it.
Something had probably broken through the pipes. Although still seated away from the edge of the basin, he hopped off of the counter. Probably not a good idea for them to stay here either. The sink was filling too fast and would soon be all over the counter and floor.
Olivia noticed it a few seconds after he did.
"Guess we should get out of here," he said as he met her gaze.
Olivia arched an eyebrow. "And go where? Back out to the suite?"
Elliot shrugged. "Maybe another side of the building is taking less of a direct hit?"
Maybe he should have explored further when they got here. All he did was to search downstairs for supplies. But he thought the storm was over and was more concerned about Olivia's condition.
Once she was standing, he glanced back once more at the bathroom. Little chance of this letting up, he thought as he made his final decision to leave.
Although there was every possibility they could be headed somewhere worse, he didn't know what else to do. He'd blame this latest move on desperation at this point.
Elliot stepped into the entry way of the suite while Olivia hung back at the door to the bathroom, waiting for him to get the front door open. He slowly opened it, expecting the blaring winds from the hallway to rush toward them.
But instead they found the complete opposite. Pitch black and almost still.
Olivia had reached back to the counter, rescued the lantern and brought it back to where they were. Maybe the oil was getting low but the light had seemed much dimmer.
What in the hell? He glanced back at Olivia and her expression read the same.
Something had the window in the hallway blocked, presumably from the outside, allowing no light in. A low-pitched whistling sound could be heard where the wind may have forced its way through a narrow gap somewhere.
But even more disturbing and difficult to ignore was the loud, consistent thumping noise that could be heard over the storm. It sounded almost like a wrecking ball beating slowly, but not as solidly against an outside concrete wall. Only that concrete wall was a part of the hotel. As he leaned against the door frame, he felt a slight jar from each contact the object made with the wall.
As if that weren't enough…
Although it was too dark to see anything close to the floor, he felt what he could only describe as rushing water further soaking the bottoms of his jeans, and random objects brushing past his ankles and shins. It all flowed in the moment the door had opened. Despite his gestures for her to stay back, Olivia curiously limped closer but remained out of the way of the inflow.
The smallest pieces stopped just over the threshold or spilled further inside the room. But the bulk of it remained in a sort of log jam right outside the door.
Where in the hell was it coming from? He looked from the window in the suite, to the dark abyss of a hallway in a state of confusion.
They had to get out of that room and to some place safe. He almost didn't care where as long as they weren't directly in the storm's line of fire.
He was anxious to get them out of that mess, but something inside of him was screaming that they were screwed if they went out there. Although not seeing another option he simply ignored it and focused on navigating through the clutter in the door way. He shoved at it with one foot but it didn't move very far. Either it was blocked by another object or there was too much of it. When he kicked at it a few times, some of it slipped forward and spilled into the room.
He attempted a step into the hallway and found that most all of it was covered in a slick substance. Nothing there was sturdy enough to stand on, much less walk on.
So how in the hell was Olivia supposed to get through this?
Might just have to pick her up and carry her, he thought with a smirk but kept it to himself. Olivia wouldn't have any part of that.
She had already picked up on his concerns about venturing out into the hall and began insisting that she would be fine. He was still dumbstruck by it all and too busy trying to figure a way out of there to even start a debate with her.
Elliot took a deep breath and tried to evaluate the situation. First, they really needed a flashlight if they were going to get out of this mess without killing themselves. And that wasn't even taking into account their existing limitations. Even with the best lighting, Olivia was officially screwed.
They may not have too far to go, but that was probably being optimistic with all the luck they'd had so far. Regardless, they had to find a flashlight. There was no getting around without it.
"Liv, you still have that mini flashlight on you?"
"Yeah but it stopped working in the garage."
He suddenly remembered a storage room somewhere on this floor, and hoped it was at this end of the hallway and not the other end. It was actually just a suite Jim's staff had converted into a storage room. It was where they had kept the service carts, spare or broken furniture. There were also crates containing tools, florescent bulbs and other such odds and ends. If it was close by, then it was worth checking. He'd grab a flashlight, clear a path for Olivia to the closest room that wasn't in shambles, and they'd stay put.
He really wasn't picky. He just didn't want them sitting in the middle of a wind tunnel getting sand blasted, or beside a basin that was spewing up substances which they probably shouldn't be near.
Olivia finally gave out supporting her weight on one foot, set the lantern back on the counter and slumped down onto the floor next to the wardrobe closet. She was shielded as much as possible from the broken window behind her as well as the open door. It still didn't afford her much room, especially with getting her foot situated.
He saw her struggling and it caused him to ache. He had to get her somewhere else. Had to.
When she glanced up, he informed her of what he had planned, and then made her promise not to move. Surprisingly, she didn't argue with him. He leaned in, kissed her forehead and said he'd be back in a few minutes.
The suite directly across from Jim was stocked mostly with broken furniture. The storage room would have to be the one to the left of it, if he had calculated its location correctly.
Elliot climbed out into the hallway and immediately misjudged his first step. He fell forward onto a wet pile of paper trash covering some less resistant objects which he couldn't see. It hurt, but it was more of a surprise than anything else.
He got up again and started out slowly. With whatever he was stepping over and in some cases through, it seemed to take forever just to go a distance of about 10 feet. Of course his path was anything but direct.
A couple more times he lost his footing, grabbed for anything he could find, only to discover it wouldn't support his weight. It was worse than the stairs in the garage. At least those were flat and he could almost see where he was going.
He felt his way along the wall until he finally found the door knob to the suite, picked the lock and went inside.
Elliot sighed at his first discovery. Two more broken windows.
It was a corner room, so one of the windows was on the opposite side of the room from where he stood, the other was to his left along the adjoining wall. He stepped further inside the room and the winds rushed toward him again. The one directly in front of him seemed to have the strongest gusts, so maybe he was right to look for a different side of the building. Just not the side he was currently on, unfortunately.
Additional lighting seemed to be coming from a couple of working light posts just outside the window across from him. He caught a glimpse of them getting battered by the wind and wondered how much longer they would hold up.
After he was about four or five paces into the room he suddenly stilled his movements. The liter from the hallway hadn't surged into the room like it had in Jim's suite, but the entire carpet was soaked and thickly coated in some sort of odd substance.
"The hell is this?" he said aloud. It was softer than mud and slippery, but it in certain places it caught his shoes almost like wet cement would. The odor was pungent but it didn't resemble any one particular thing. He knew he could probably trace its contents back to the East River.
This meant he probably didn't want to know.
Through the window to his left, he could almost make out the edge of whatever might have been blocking the hallway window. Curiosity won out and Elliot inched closer. It looked like a part of a large sign from a building or billboard. Some kind of unfinished structure. A couple of ropes or cords that were attached to it flailed wildly in the winds.
There was too much mist coming through that window for him to see much more than this, so he forgot about the object outside and brought his focus back to the room. It was definitely the storage room he was thinking of. He breathed a sigh of relief as he tried to get himself oriented.
Using the outside lamps again, he spotted a couple of storage bins along the wall behind him, opened one of them and shoved his hand in there, stirring up everything.
"Dammit!" he hissed loudly, when he hit something sharp. He withdrew his hand, moved over to the vanity area and turned the sink faucet on full. It came out cold for a few seconds and just as he was about to turn it off, it began to sting.
Bad idea. He couldn't believe he had already forgotten about the dark colored water in Jim's bathroom. It was too late to do anything about it now.
He shut off the faucet, blotted his hand dry with the inside of his sweatshirt, and then went back to his search. He quickly gave up on the first tub and went on to the next.
In the third one, he found a small aluminum flashlight buried near the bottom. There was something sticky on the handle and it probably didn't have much battery life left. Not great, but better than nothing. He was afraid to put too much time into this little treasure hunt. He flipped the switch on the flashlight and hurried toward the hallway.
He pointed the light beam at the floor, illuminating the path back to the suite. There were mounds of garbage for as far as he could see and barely a scrap of floor. It looked like a miniature replica of a New York-New Jersey landfill was lining the hallway.
As he looked further, he also found soaked panels, wood planks, wallboard, and broken glass in varying sizes, miscellaneous pieces of garbage, rusted and twisted metal scraps, split pipe and panel insulation, fiberglass and assorted odds and ends ranging from shreds of rubber from car tires, to articles of clothing. Everything was caked in mud and, judging from the smell, sewage.
A draft coming from above his head alerted him that several of the ceiling tiles were missing. He directed the flashlight beam upward and discovered water leaking from the ceiling in a few spots, although he couldn't tell where it was coming from or why it seemed heavier in some places. Shining the light further up the hall, he noted that some of the wallboard panels had soaked through enough to split.
Elliot stood there re-evaluating their options. With the storm in full force, the first floor still wasn't a good plan. Plus there was really no place to go down there to wait it out.
But the floor they were on didn't hold much hope either. The stairs that led up to the other floors were just before the hallway bears right, so they still had to go at least forty to fifty feet through the junk pile before they had a shot at that option.
He went back to find Olivia. She had just stood up and was starting to climb out into the hallway when he saw her. He positioned the flashlight in the nook of his injured arm and stepped closer, attempting to halt her before she slipped into the garbage heap. "You okay?" he asked softly, when he saw the pain in her eyes.
He pulled her into his arms, placing a kiss on top of her head and held her for a minute. "We'll stop at the first place that doesn't look like a tornado hit it, I'll put something over the windows and we'll get some sleep."
He felt her nod against his shoulder and then he carefully stepped back.
"I'm okay, El," she said. But he could see that she wasn't.
He brushed a few strands of hair away from her eyes. She was, without a doubt, the strongest person he knew. She'd kept him going throughout the storm. Hell, she'd kept him going for years.
But in her eyes, he saw her resilience fading. She could no longer mask the pain she was in even though she still attempted a smile every now and then.
"You're better than okay, Liv," he shot back, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
Elliot brought his attention back to the hallway. "Ready?" he asked. "Stop me if you need to."
"Okay."
He started down the hall first, trying to make a path for her to follow. She stayed close behind him, gripping his shoulder for support.
About ten feet past Jim's suite they felt the wind gusts pick up from the opposite end of the hallway. The leaky ceiling was also getting worse.
He was a little surprised to find that most of the doors to the suites had been left open. He peeked inside the first one he came to and realized that Jim had some renovations going on. There were ladders, drop clothes, paint cans, finished wood planks, wall board panels, baseboard scraps and tools. The hurricane winds had once again broken through the windows and redistributed some of the materials as far out as the hallway.
They had looked at four rooms that were clustered together, two on each side of the hallway and all were about in the same state of disarray.
Olivia caught his attention and motioned for him to continue on, saying that she'd catch up in a second. She clung near the walls, clearly in a lot of pain
He felt horrible. He was hoping for a reprieve for them, but this was only making things worse on her.
That was it. They were done with this mission. The very next room that had a bed is where they were stopping. They'd use the mattress and blankets to shield them from any busted windows.
He saw that they had come up on areas where larger pieces of sheet rock, ceiling tile and such had collected. Further up, the larger wall board panels had weakened, possibly due to the water coming from above. It caused a few to fall forward into the walk space where they were headed.
Elliot shook his head as he looked on. Dammit, they'd have to get through all of this first.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash.
He immediately turned to look for Olivia but couldn't find her.
x x x
He didn't know how it had happened, but the next thing he knew he was laying face up with about half of his body covered. He had no idea how long he'd been like this.
Elliot slowly lifted his head, feeling dizzy and disoriented for several minutes as he tried to figure out his surroundings.
As the recollections began to return, he remembered the hallway, the ceiling panels, the wood planks, the garbage, the tiles…
And of course the leaky ceiling. His back was getting soaked by the steady stream of water coming from somewhere above his head.
The storm continued to be in full-force, which he found when he glanced through the open door of the suite directly in front of him. Something large, maybe a piece of broken furniture had been wedged into the door frame. It was recognizable only by the light from the outside lamp that shown around it. Fortunately, whatever was wedged there had managed to shield him from the wind gusts coming through yet another busted window.
The next thought snapped him into full alertness.
Olivia.
It was dark everywhere he looked except for the suite in front of him. He began calling her name to see if she was at least within arms reach.
When she didn't answer, he called her name again and again. Still no response.
He tried to get out from the pile he was in and made a very unsettling discovery.
He couldn't move his legs.
Next chapter : Lilith Part II