New York City. To say that it was one simple city, would probably be the most horrendous lie anyone has ever told. It wasn't just the symbol of American freedom and respect; it was every single culture of the world compacted together to form a city where people could live next together.
As I walked out of the airport, with Case not far behind, and Dad hanging back with Syl and Krit, I never thought that I'd see such a city.
It's not like I've never seen a large city before. Living in California for eighteen years of your life and frequently traveling the other states, you see Los Angeles, San Francisco, and San Diego. I've seen all three, and to say the least, I wasn't all that impressed. They're all filled with huge, towering skyscrapers that are constantly falling apart, while gangs are on killing sprees every night of every day. The places are overrun by rats and vermin, which breed to produce any kind of bacteria and virus imaginable. Babies cling to their crack mother's breast, hungry and skinny, almost knowing that they will become food for their fathers soon enough. Sewage lines the streets in heaps, yet people sleep there because they have no where else to go. The cities, dead, having been murdered by the electromagnetic pulse, are now in their process of rotting. It's only a manner of time because everything comes crashing down.
But New York City was not Los Angeles. It was not San Francisco. Nor was it San Diego. Hell, it wasn't even Seattle.
The city seemed unaffected by the pulse, as if it had never happened. I believed it was because the European nations were able to help the eastern cities easier, and, also, the pulse was off the western coast anyhow.
Building shimmered in the early morning sunlight, blinding me for a moment so that I was forced to cover my eyes until I adjusted. The streets were kept fairly clean of obsessive garbage and filth. Every person I saw was at least dressed. Although there were beggars, they too, were better off than the people I had seen back in California. Rows and rows of chic fashion centers lined the darkly paved roads. I had to be dreaming. A city like this couldn't exist in this year.
"Well," Syl said, stepping forward in front of us all, "welcome to New York City."
There were five of us total. Three adults and two, well, young adults. James didn't have a problem with me going away for approximately a week other than the fact that we would be so many miles apart. He insisted that he trusted Case, and he trusted me, since we would be sharing a hotel room. (Krit and Syl didn't believe it was appropriate for me to be in the same room as Dad, so he got his own special "Birthday Boy" room.) I never told James that doing anything sexual to Case would be incredibly disgusting in my mind because we were related. Telling James that Case and I were cousins would lead into the whole "G.I. with his special deluxe action packed features" deal. I didn't need that right now.
"Where should we go first?" Krit asked, smiling his perfect smile. His teeth were so beautifully white, it was almost depressing.
"To the hotel room," Case offered. "My arms are going to fall off if I have to carry these suitcases much farther."
"I say we get something to eat, too. Plane food sucks," I whined.
"How about we get room service at the hotel?" Syl questioned.
"That'll work," I replied.
"Good."
From the airport, we grabbed a taxi, which barely fit all of us, but we managed to squeeze in. Syl was basically sitting on Krit's lap, with Dad in the front passenger seat, and Case and I trying to breathe in the back. The driver insisted that we take two cabs because he didn't feel comfortable with having Dad sit next to him. Plus, he didn't want to get pulled over for having too many people in the car.
Krit handed him a twenty and said to step on it. The driver said nothing more.
Shortly after, we arrived at the hotel. Case and I stood gaping in amazement, while Dad had that "something's not right here and I don't like it" look on his face.
"You didn't say we were coming to such a nice place," he told Krit and Syl.
"No?" Krit asked, pretending to be astonished as he helped Case with our luggage. "Guess I must've left that one out." He snapped his fingers in disgust. "Sorry, Zack. You might actually have to sleep in first class for once."
Dad bit his tongue, grabbing his bags in an irritated manner, and pushing through the revolving door. Unfortunately, he ended up getting smacked in the nose as the door kept on moving and he didn't. I could already tell that his birthday trip wasn't going to be "Happy Zack".
We took the elevator to our rooms, which were on the fourth floor. Syl and Krit were in room 35D, Dad in 36D, while Case and I shared 37D. Immediately, Dad went to his room to pout. Krit and Syl said that we could order anything we wanted because it was on them and they just wanted us to enjoy ourselves.
I was debating what kind of juice to order as Case struggled with unlocking the door.
"Do you think I should order orange or apple?" I asked him.
"Orange or apple what?"
"Juice."
"Juice?" he echoed as the door finally swung open.
I picked up my bags and followed him inside. "Yeah, juice, I don't why, but I-Oh. My. God."
To say the room was nice, would be a severe understatement. There were-fortunately-two twin beds covered in a rich magenta and forest green comforter etched with gold. The deep green carpeting was fuzzier than I was when I didn't shave, while two large windows gave a perfect view of what Syl had called Central Park, although I didn't see what was so central about it.
A bathroom, complete with shower and toilet that actually worked, glistened in white that adjoined the main bedroom. Tiny guest soaps and shampoos were placed carefully in a wire twisted basket. Picking a soap up, I sniffed at it carefully. It smelled like flowers-something that Syl would like-, but I preferred my fruity fragrances.
Walking out of the bathroom, I saw Case standing in front of the window, looking down over Central Park. His thumb and forefinger were cupped about his chin, while the other hand held his elbow. With his dark hair glistening in the morning sunlight, he looked extremely intelligent.
I wasn't sure if he heard me as I moved down the passage in between the beds, crawled over the one nearest to him, swung my legs over, and sat down looking up at him. "Case?" I asked, sitting down beside him, "we need to talk."
"Apple."
"What? Apple?"
"Juice. Get apple."
"No, not the juice. Forget about the juice."
He didn't respond for a moment, then flicked his eyes towards me. "Yeah?"
"Do you remember what you said to my dad?"
"When?"
"'Bout three weeks ago. At the hospital with James and my mom. You said somethin' about Lydecker being closer than we could ever imagine."
"I remember."
Under normal circumstances, I would have read his mind, figured out what was going on in there, and drop the subject. But, Case's mind was unreachable to me, along with Max's and James'. Their minds were scrambled, like Brin's had been the first night we met. I didn't understand why I couldn't reach into their minds, but I assumed it had something to do with being the same age. After all, I had had a difficult time reading my friends' minds back in California.
"Case, what did you mean? Please, just tell me, I really need…want to know what happened. What you meant."
He turned back to me, letting his hands drop submissively to his sides, and, for a moment I thought I had him. I truly thought that he would tell me what he knew, and everything would go back to the way it was. My heart fell, though, when he said, "I can't, Alanza. I can't tell you."
