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Back The Third Brother Save as PDF
Chapters (116)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by the Author
  3. The Third Brother
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. PART I
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. PART II
  67. 60
  68. 61
  69. 62
  70. 63
  71. 64
  72. 65
  73. 66
  74. 67
  75. 68
  76. 69
  77. 70
  78. 71
  79. 72
  80. 73
  81. 74
  82. 75
  83. 76
  84. 77
  85. 78
  86. 79
  87. 80
  88. 81
  89. 82
  90. 83
  91. 84
  92. 85
  93. 86
  94. 87
  95. 88
  96. PART III
  97. 89
  98. 90
  99. 91
  100. 92
  101. 93
  102. 94
  103. 95
  104. 96
  105. 97
  106. 98
  107. 99
  108. 100
  109. 101
  110. 102
  111. 103
  112. 104
  113. 105
  114. 106
  115. 107
  116. 108

A loud van passes, exhaust popping, in the stream of fire trucks. On the side of the van is a message painted in red: Thank You Jesus - The CIA. What is that about? Mike wonders. He crosses the street to where a fireman is disciplining a dalmatian that won’t stop barking. Mike is surprised by how violently the fireman is yelling at the dog, and even more so by the red spots of blood splattered on the black and white of the dalmatian’s coat.

* * *

Mike’s telephone rings, and he hears Jane’s voice. They’re both glad one of them finally got through. She says that her friend Suzy was at her father’s office on the eighty-ninth floor and was probably dead. Mike suddenly loves Jane for how tough she is. She asks where he is and is upset when he tells her.

“I don’t understand why Lyle doesn’t just walk uptown,” she says.

Suddenly Mike has a call coming in from Lyle, and he tells Jane he’ll find her later.

“Maybe not,” she says.

80

Lyle is on Church Street, just north of the attack. Mike knew this is where he would be.

“We should help,” Lyle tells him over his cell.

“Start walking uptown,” Mike says. “I’ll meet you.”

The soot and ash are thin on the ground, but as Mike walks south they thicken and resemble light snow. At Murray Street, he turns east and walks along another police barricade toward his brother. He sees cops and civilians together, carrying an injured man on a piece of plywood. A woman with long, singed black hair stands dazed, holding a napkin over her mouth. A doctor in jeans is ripping off his shirt to bandage a pretty young woman with blood running down her arm from a pulsing red wound at her collar. A man in a pinstripe suit is vomiting in a doorway. Worse, Mike thinks he sees body parts, like strange, horrible animals sleeping in the street.

Mike wants to help, but he has to find Lyle. He keeps walking. A fireman runs past, carrying a crying child. Falling glass has raked the child’s face, and blood runs in sheets. Boy or girl, Mike cannot tell. He feels sick. He needs to concentrate, to keep his head, to walk.

He looks up and thinks about being one of the people on the seventy-ninth floor, a young man in a cubicle. Maybe a researcher, like Mike was in Hong Kong, reading the paper online with nothing to do. Mike imagines that he looks up and sees, like some unbelievable joke, the blunt nose of an airplane rushing toward the window. Like a fist, like a punch in the nose, the plane would expand until the young man couldn’t see anything else and would black out just as the jet noise caught up with him.