Skyline by Zach Milan Page B

at least try .”
    With
a nod, Monroe placed his hand on her shoulder. Bill did, too. Charlotte took
them backward four more years. To the morning of the Blast.
    •
• • • • • • • • • • •
    The sun
slowed, and the scent of burnt apples was in the air.
    “We
have fifteen minutes before the Blast happens,” Charlotte said. “Keep your eyes
out.” She led them up a few blocks, and there stood the cinema Dad took them to
as kids. Beside it was Monroe’s favorite after-movie doughnut shop. But down
the street was Charlotte’s true destination. She’d been to Suni’s so many
times; she knew its storefront would be safe from the Blast.
    Right
now, the building looked run-down, not even a sign in the window. A few worn
stools stood beside the bar, but the few couches were a little too pristine.
Unused. Right now, Suni’s was about to go out of business.
    The
Blast would change that.
    Monroe
slowly followed, gazing at everything that would be taken away in a few
moments’ time. Bill was beside Charlotte, but kept sniffing. Distracted by his
nose. “Is that apples?”
    Monroe
inhaled, a grin growing. “God, yes . That’s how the day started. I forgot
about all those weird news stories about it.”
    Bill
tilted his head, frowning. “Could the smell and the Blast be connected?”
    “If
apples were an appetizer for disaster? No one ever found out,” Monroe said.
“There’ve been dozens of mystery smells over the years. Waffles, syrup, a nice
Brie. Most figured it was a coincidence. But if I ever smell apples again? I’m
running.”
    Charlotte
nodded along with his story, but wasn’t paying attention. There had to be
something here. Leanor would know that Charlotte would visit Suni’s. Why else
would she make this the first place they went after Charlotte learned what the
astrolabe did? A hidden clue to the future—or past. But no matter how much Charlotte
looked, nothing seemed out of place.
    Cars
raced by as the lights aligned green. A stream of people hurried across the
street. Somewhere nearby a truck backed up. A jackhammer destroyed concrete. A
cab honked when a bicyclist veered into its path. Just like at the World Trade
Center, they had one final moment of normalcy.
    The
city would never regain this.
    A
minute out, Charlotte drew them back against Suni’s storefront. She hadn’t
visited the Blast before—she couldn’t dare—but the destruction would race
through the city. Here they could see it all. But here was a little more
dangerous than the apartment where she and Monroe had lived seven years ago.
Now.
    “Will
we be safe?” Bill asked as they pressed themselves against the grate covering
Suni’s front entrance. He laced his fingers into the metal grate, clinging
tight. “This close to the Blast?”
    “We
should be,” Monroe said. “That’s another weird thing. No one at the edge of the
Blast zone got hurt. I guess we’ll see why.”
    “Brace
yourselves,” Charlotte said, checking her astrolabe. Below, the clock shining
on the ground was only ten seconds away from noon. She stashed it away, then
counted down. “Three. Two. One.”
    One
second later, the street lit up bright white. Charlotte closed an eye,
squinting the other to look for clues. After an instant the light vanished,
taking all the buildings and the ground with it. All that remained was a wide
pit, curved at the edges up to the sidewalk where they stood.
    Across
the way, three blocks south, a man snatched a tottering woman back from the new
cliff.
    A
delayed boom sounded; wind howled forth and knocked down everything within a
mile. Charlotte gripped the grate closed over Suni’s, her fingers turning white
as the wind tried to tug her away. The air calmed just as suddenly, a brief
moment of complete silence.
    It
didn’t last.
    With
a roar, water crashed through the clean channel in front of them, splashing
eagerly into subway lines and sewers. People spilled from a nearby subway
station with white