Ashes To Ashes

III

The streets were alive and wired in the crowded borough of Manhattan.
Taxis slunk through traffic intermixed with the odd bus and a handful of compact cars. Apartment buildings rose until they met sky.
Adelaide shuffled along, her hands in her pockets as she gazed up at the life happening swiftly around her. She drew her coat over her shoulders and tried to ignore the fact that her nose was becoming numb.
The orange leaves of the trees rattled in the stiff breeze.

Adelaide twirled her apartment key on her thumb as she passed the shops and intersections.
A police officer sat across from a man outside a cafe, holding his hand.
A gap toothed street performer stood near a lamppost playing a not-so-gentle version of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps". He was singing in a way that made Adelaide wonder if he'd ever even heard the song before.
An old woman with a mesh bag covering her hair offered Adelaide a chance to buy a seashell necklace imported from an exotic place. Upon closer inspection, a thin trail of hot glue threads could be seen on the chain.

"No thanks," Adelaide apologized.

The old woman smiled sheepishly and hurried off, waving her hands in a desperate attempt to flag down another pedestrian.
Adelaide fiddled in her pocket until her fingers brushed the familiar hunk of plastic.

When her parents had seen her off to New York, they had saddled her with a few ground rules.
The first was simple. She was to keep in touch, and behave responsibly.
The second? "Take as many pictures as you can. Real pictures. None'a that digital garbage you kids are all about these days."
Of course, her parents had never set foot outside of rural Iowa before.

The disposable camera slid from her pocket with ease.
She hadn't used one since she was about ten years old.
But, her parents wanted "real" pictures, and they didn't seem to get it when Adelaide told them you can print pictures you take on a cellphone.
Adelaide didn't mind, though. She found the whole thing somewhat poetic.

The graying sidewalk beneath her feet took her further into the city.
Her mind began to wander to her classes, but she cringed internally and attempted to think of something happier. Something like penguins on unicycles.
When she reached the crosswalk, she waited for the orange hand to vanish from the black screen.
When she was crossing, something odd caught her eye.

A faint red light was pulsing on the roof of a nearby building.
She stopped and gazed up at it. She narrowed her eyes to get a better view.

A taxi screeched to a brutal halt mere inches away from her, horn blaring into her upturned face.
Startled, Adelaide snapped her attention back to the street. The driver was glowering at her.
She was standing very still in the middle of the street, obstructing traffic.

As Adelaide scurried to the other side, she felt her ears burning hot.
The people hurried past her. Some gave her dirty looks.
How could she be so oblivious?

Still, the red light was tugging at her attention.
She wasn't sure why. It was just a light.

Adelaide walked a few more meters, then turned back. She followed the storefronts and apartment doors until she came to an alley.
Shivering slightly with her back to the wind, she stepped off the street.
Off the side of the wall, there was an access ladder with the paint flaking off of its rungs.
She slid the disposable camera back into her pocket, gripped the icy cold bars, and began to climb.

...

From up above, the world was so much brighter and colder than it had been down below.
Adelaide hoisted herself up the last few rungs and settled on top of the roof in an awkward kneeling position. Her hair whipped about her face in the chilly air.
For a brief second, she wondered if she was up high enough to see the Hudson River.
She stood and glanced around.

There were pipes, and metal boxes with giant fans humming away within them.
A vent stack coughed up a hazy trail of steam, sending it skyward towards the stratosphere.
The red light shone from behind one of the large boxes.
Adelaide crept closer.

She tried not to make a sound.
What if it's a bomb? She scolded herself internally for thinking that way.
No, like seriously, what if it's actually a bomb?
Her heart hammered against her ribs. She bit her lower lip and peered around the side of the metal box.

At first, she wasn't sure what exactly she was seeing.

There was a glowing outline in the middle of the air, just above the rooftop.
She could see directly through it to the other side of the roof. It was as if somebody had simply taken a red crayon and traced a hollow rectangle on to a sheet of paper.
It pulsed and undulated, tossing its flickering light over everything.
It was so damn bright.
Adelaide was speechless. If it was a bomb, it didn't look like any kind of bomb she'd seen in the TV shows.
She heard a voice, murmuring. It was barely audible, but something about it made her feel cold and dead inside. Her stomach began to ache.

The outline began to warp and twist itself, rapidly shrinking and expanding.
The voice got louder.
The dust on the rooftop below it lifted into the air and formed a spinning vortex. The bottom of her coat was caught, and Adelaide was thrown on her side.

She tried to lift her head, but gravity worked against her.
The voice grew louder still. It sounded almost like an airline pilot giving his passengers instructions of some kind, but she could hardly understand a word being said. A whistling noise like a tea kettle assaulted her ears and threatened to burst them open.
She squeezed her eye shut tight.
Then, just as suddenly as the chaos had begun, it stopped.
No more voice, no more high-pitched whistling. No more dust vortex.
Adelaide dared to look around.

The outline was no more, but in its place there stood a very solid looking neon red door.
There was a knob, and paneling, and a single window just below its top.
The panes weren't see through, but a dark inky black.
Adelaide shuddered.
Her stomach ache had gotten worse and she was trying not to vomit.

The door flew open with a bang and something large flew out and hit the roof.
The door stayed open, and Adelaide gasped.
Like the window, there was nothing but dark void beyond the threshold.
She pulled herself into a sitting position and fumbled in her pocket and angled the disposable camera. When she found the door in her viewfinder, she felt a tingle down her spine.
This is real, she thought. This is actually happening. I'm actually seeing this right now.
Her fingers nearly slipped several times, but she managed to snap a picture.

Then, the door shrank in on itself and vanished. The pain in her gut went with it.
The dust on the roof flew up and then rained back down, caking Adelaide's hair and clothing.

Off to her right, she heard a sickly groan.
When she turned to look, she saw a man lying in a crumpled heap.
He wore a very strange coat with buttons on the chest. His belt hugged him up on his waist. He was covered in gray mud, straw and something much, much darker.
Shaking, Adelaide slowly got to her feet and approached him.

His face was hidden, buried in his shoulder. As she came closer, she could hear him whispering something over and over, very softly.
She knelt down beside him.
The fabric of his coat was crusted in a grimy brown liquid. He smelled oddly metallic.
Blood? Adelaide gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Forgive me forgive me forgive me forgive me forgive me forgive me forgive me forgive,"
His voice fluctuated rapidly. Then, he stopped.
He snapped his head up and violently gasped. He jerked up and his eyes flew open.
Adelaide let out a small cry and fell backwards.
His eyes were a bright crystal blue. Adelaide could've sworn her stomach ache was returning.

He trained them on her. At first, he looked weak. Small. Almost fearful.
He rolled over a bit and felt at his belt.
His eyes changed. His breath became loud and ragged.
Adelaide almost didn't see him reach into his holster.