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the snack shop. A maintenance
worker is slumped on the floor, head half crushed. Around the dead man’s waist
is a utility belt which Fred reluctantly unfastens. He buckles the belt to his
waist and runs to the bathrooms.
    “I’m back!”
    “Thank God, Timmy isn’t breathing well,
please get us out of here.”
    Fred examines the screws to see if the
door can be unhinged.
    “I’m Fred. How many are with you?”
    “Emily Rothschild, I’m here with my two
grandchildren.”
    Fred removes two screws. The hallway
fills with smoke. His hands sweat and eyes burn.
    “Emily, are you hurt?”
    “No, but please hurry.”
    “I most definitely am, ma’am.”
    His breath comes in sharply as lungs
struggle for clean air. One of the two hinges pops free. Only three screws
remain.
    “Fred, it’s getting hot.”
    “There’s a fire. I’m almost there.”
    Within thirty seconds the last screw pops
out. Fred slams the door with his left shoulder and it falls inwards revealing
an elderly woman and two young children.
    “Oh! Thank you,” she says.
    Emily directs the children to the rotunda
and Fred follows, finding Kyle near the exit.
    “Dad, where were you?”
    The boy looks strangely happy and Fred
eyes him suspiciously. Kyle adjusts the straps of a backpack on his shoulders.
    “Helping folks, you ready?”
    Kyle nods and they depart through the
exit.
    “Dad, where’s your truck?”
    Fred looks around franticly until he sees
underneath a crashed fire truck the dangling remains of his bumper and Minnesota license plate.
    “Sweet Jesus, what happened to my truck?”
    “Guess we’re walking after all, old man.”

 
     

    10
     
     
    M ark and Irina race across the south lawn of the
Capitol building with Rebecca and Michael trailing.
    “I need my keys!” Mark says.
    The group follows Mark to the Jefferson Building. The asphalt of the intersection between First and Independence juts out
in all directions. Neptune’s Fountain, with its king and assortment of turtles,
frogs and serpents, is buried underneath the crumbling marble staircase leading
to the main entrance of the Library of Congress. Before the destroyed fountain
stands Susan Bishop with a microphone in hand.
    “This is Susan Bishop,” she says
intently into the camera, not a hair on her head out of place. “I’m reporting
from the Capital where a devastating earthquake has destroyed the city. This
fountain was once King Neptune, the Roman god of the sea and brother of
Minerva. This is just a small sample of the devastation we are experiencing in
the nation’s capital today. There’s still no word on the status of the
President or the White House…”
    Mark sprints up the remains of the
left staircase.
    “You’re not supposed to use stairs
during an earthquake!” Rebecca yells.
    “We need to reach the others
before they evacuate,” Mark shouts down.
    “The others would have evacuated
already, Mark,” Michael yells.
    “I’m following Mark,” Irina says
and climbs the stairs.
    “Why did we have to take the
metro?” Michael whines and attempts the stairs with Rebecca.
    Mark pulls on the door handle but
it doesn’t open. “We need to find another way in.”
    “Why not try the researcher’s
entrance?” Irina asks.
    A security guard appears on the
other side of the door glass.
    “Brian, man, let us in!” Mark
yells.
    “It’s not any better in here,”
Brian calls back through the thick glass.
    Mark whips out his identification
card and presses it against the glass.
    “You see this? I work here. You
know who I am, let me in.”
    “Ok, ok, hold on,” Brian says and
opens the door.
    The group rushes inside the
building. Out of habit Mark stops underneath the metal detector. He feels
stupid as the guard gives him a sour look. The click of the closing door echoes
through the empty lobby. No other security guards man the stations. The tremors
subside.
    “This is the first time I’ve seen
this place without tour groups wandering around,”