Chapters (47)
- Cover
- ALSO BY MARJORIE B. KELLOGG AVAILABLE FROM DAW BOOKS
- Dedication
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- About the Author
“You’re thinking a high-rise?” Red Katja let the idea out for a test run. “Hate those. Shoddy construction, fire traps. Too many stairs. Our old university building is bad enough.”
“So right,” Rubio agreed. “But what would you say to ramps?”
Empire State’s den home was not the building of that name, but a brick-and-glass pile with a central atrium in the East 20s. Not exactly a high-rise, but close enough.
“Not another dead hospital,” said Will. Empire had one next door. “Useful for left-behind stuff, but ours gives me the creeps.”
“Nope.” Rubio looked smug. “This one’s solid built, shaped like a fortress, no close neighbors, surrounded by open water. No one could sneak up on you. We’d been pushing too hard for closed-in spaces, for security’s sake. But with still-rising temps, you really need a breeze running through the den, to keep from growing mold or dying from heat stress.”
It was like playing My Fantasy Den Home. Except now we were playing it for real.
Irv chimed in. “I did the sea rise calculation against the available building stats, and we think there should be a defendable water-level entrance for boats, and a large protected harbor inside the walls.”
That won them some real interest.
“You think?” Katja asked. “You mean you haven’t been there yet?”
Rubio said, “Not since the Zones A and B evacuation.”
Will’s laugh died into a puff of breath. “You actually have a serious candidate?”
“You thought we didn’t?”
“I thought . . . y’know, mere speculation?”
“Good solid research.”
“Out with it,” said R.J. “No time for guessing games.”
Another conspirators’ glance. Irv shrugged and studied his feet.
Rubio folded his arms. “Okay, our number one choice is . . . Yankee Stadium.”
Blank looks were traded around the table. A choked laugh or two.
“It’s a joke, right?” said Will.
“It’s not even on the island,” added Rousseau.
R.J.’s brows folded to a thin, straight line. “A ballpark? Like, outdoors? That’s insane!”
“Were you ever there?” Rubio was on a roll now, his eyes lit.
“No. I don’t . . . didn’t . . . do sports.”