strange.
"Did you hear the news?" Derrick asked.
"What news? What happened?" Samantha asked in return.
"Terrorist attack on Wall Street, happened like thirty minutes ago."
"And we're just hearing about it now?" Samantha asked.
"Check your phone," Derrick responded, gripping his smartphone with one hand while scrolling his finger across its screen. "I'm losing signal though. This ain't good."
Samantha fished her android from her purse and went directly to her news app. There was no denying what Derrick had told her with the very first Red banner headline:
Terror Attack Blasts Wall Street!
She attempted to read more, but there was little information beyond the time of the attack and estimated casualties. The center grew quiet as the expo commissioner, a plump man in a dark suit, walked onto a nearby podium carrying a flashlight. Several police followed him on stage in a show of authority.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that due to circumstances beyond our control, the expo is now closed. We seem to be facing unexplained power shortages, which raises several security issues. We kindly ask that presenters close up your booths and all personnel exit the premises immediately in a quick and orderly fashion. There are also reports of a terrorist attack in New York City, which has raised the national terror alert to its highest level. Please do not panic. Just make sure you get all your personal belongings and make your way to the exits."
The man walked off the stage in a hurry with the police force following him off the stage. That was that. He didn't elaborate on any more details. In the unsettling atmosphere before her, Samantha pondered the whereabouts of the politicians who were walking around only moments ago. She wondered how they were going to respond to the mandated evacuation, but she couldn't see them anywhere. They had vanished without a trace.
"Let's get everyone together, I'll need help getting our booth packed up," Samantha said to Derrick.
"They could be anywhere right now," Derrick responded. "But if they know what's good for them, they'll meet up here."
"Please call them," Samantha said. Derrick sighed and pulled out his phone.
"I only have Amy's number, but I'll try," he responded.
Samantha took out her phone and instinctively dialed Paul. She didn't like the prospect of a terror attack only a state away from her family. At that time, more than ever, she needed assurance. There was no answer. It didn't even go to his voicemail, which she thought odd. She tried again and again with no response. She sent text after text, hoping to get a response:
Call me back.
Where are you?
Are you guys okay?
After each text, she waited, and received no reply. As requested, people marched out of the convention center in a semi-orderly fashion. No real panic had taken over yet, it was a power failure, and hopefully nothing else. They felt that the Wall Street bombing, though concerning, was in no way related to the unusual power outage. They looked forward to leaving the convention center and getting to their hotel rooms. They could call their families, watch the news, and hopefully get on the Internet. Screw the convention center.
They shuffled out with the light of their phones shinning onto their faces. Every single person was immersed in their cell phone worlds, trying desperately to contact loved ones and read about what was going on.
"Anyone getting a signal?" an especially frustrated man called out in the crowd.
Only grumbles followed, everyone seemed to have the same problem, but were in complete denial about it.
"Almost got something," a woman said to herself, relived.
She then hit her phone in anger as its signal went out. The slow-moving crowd nearly tripped and tumbled over each other due to their collective smartphone distractions, though they managed to exit the doors outside where a whole new world of problems awaited.
"Where is everyone?" Samantha asked
"Did you hear the news?" Derrick asked.
"What news? What happened?" Samantha asked in return.
"Terrorist attack on Wall Street, happened like thirty minutes ago."
"And we're just hearing about it now?" Samantha asked.
"Check your phone," Derrick responded, gripping his smartphone with one hand while scrolling his finger across its screen. "I'm losing signal though. This ain't good."
Samantha fished her android from her purse and went directly to her news app. There was no denying what Derrick had told her with the very first Red banner headline:
Terror Attack Blasts Wall Street!
She attempted to read more, but there was little information beyond the time of the attack and estimated casualties. The center grew quiet as the expo commissioner, a plump man in a dark suit, walked onto a nearby podium carrying a flashlight. Several police followed him on stage in a show of authority.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that due to circumstances beyond our control, the expo is now closed. We seem to be facing unexplained power shortages, which raises several security issues. We kindly ask that presenters close up your booths and all personnel exit the premises immediately in a quick and orderly fashion. There are also reports of a terrorist attack in New York City, which has raised the national terror alert to its highest level. Please do not panic. Just make sure you get all your personal belongings and make your way to the exits."
The man walked off the stage in a hurry with the police force following him off the stage. That was that. He didn't elaborate on any more details. In the unsettling atmosphere before her, Samantha pondered the whereabouts of the politicians who were walking around only moments ago. She wondered how they were going to respond to the mandated evacuation, but she couldn't see them anywhere. They had vanished without a trace.
"Let's get everyone together, I'll need help getting our booth packed up," Samantha said to Derrick.
"They could be anywhere right now," Derrick responded. "But if they know what's good for them, they'll meet up here."
"Please call them," Samantha said. Derrick sighed and pulled out his phone.
"I only have Amy's number, but I'll try," he responded.
Samantha took out her phone and instinctively dialed Paul. She didn't like the prospect of a terror attack only a state away from her family. At that time, more than ever, she needed assurance. There was no answer. It didn't even go to his voicemail, which she thought odd. She tried again and again with no response. She sent text after text, hoping to get a response:
Call me back.
Where are you?
Are you guys okay?
After each text, she waited, and received no reply. As requested, people marched out of the convention center in a semi-orderly fashion. No real panic had taken over yet, it was a power failure, and hopefully nothing else. They felt that the Wall Street bombing, though concerning, was in no way related to the unusual power outage. They looked forward to leaving the convention center and getting to their hotel rooms. They could call their families, watch the news, and hopefully get on the Internet. Screw the convention center.
They shuffled out with the light of their phones shinning onto their faces. Every single person was immersed in their cell phone worlds, trying desperately to contact loved ones and read about what was going on.
"Anyone getting a signal?" an especially frustrated man called out in the crowd.
Only grumbles followed, everyone seemed to have the same problem, but were in complete denial about it.
"Almost got something," a woman said to herself, relived.
She then hit her phone in anger as its signal went out. The slow-moving crowd nearly tripped and tumbled over each other due to their collective smartphone distractions, though they managed to exit the doors outside where a whole new world of problems awaited.
"Where is everyone?" Samantha asked
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