3.

April 9^th 11: 22 pm

 People are running, running as fast as they can through the streets, away from the bridge. Sirens roar in the distance and Bob can’t catch his breath.

“Guys! Stop, wait!”

Quinn is ahead of him, Pete’s arm around his waist pulling him to a stop. They collapse against the window of a clothes store, Quinn holding onto Pete in a death grip. “Oh god, oh god…” he says over and over. Gerard has his back to the group and doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

“He was just there and then; he was gone and…fuck!” Quinn is a wreck, and everyone suddenly realises he and Mikey were closer than they thought.

Gerard won’t let himself think about anything other than Frank. Because he can’t let it all in, he cant lose control. Not yet. Bob walks towards him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, listen to me man. I’m so sorry about your brother…I’m sorry…shit…are you okay?” Gerard says nothing, but turns his head towards the sound of breaking glass. Quinn is crying in the background and Pete is trying to comfort him. So much panic, so much chaos and loss, all so fast…

“Okay, Gee. We have to get out of here. Listen, we really…we gotta get moving. We can…try another bridge or a tunnel or something, anything. I don’t know but we can’t stay here…it’s not. It’s not safe, okay?” Bob knows he’s talking shit, and he knows Gerard isn’t listening but he can’t think of anything else to do. This is all too fucking much.

“He’s dead. He’s fucking dead.” More breaking glass and Gerard starts off across the street to where people are breaking into an electronics store. 

“Hey, wait. Where are you going?”

“Gerard, wait!” Pete calls. Bob gives Pete a helpless look and runs after Gerard, the camera shaking and wobbling in his hand.

“Hey, come on man, what are you doing?” Bob squeezes past a man carrying a TV on his shoulders and pushes his way into the store. “Sorry, excuse me, shit, okay. Excuse me. Gerard?”

Bob stops in front of a display television showing a news broadcast. The Brooklyn bridge collapses all over again before his eyes. “Shit…”

Another screen shows something in the city, moving between the buildings. Parts of it are illuminated by helicopter searchlights but Bob can’t tell what it is. He reaches up and turns the volume up so he can hear.

“-continue now with our breaking news story, from lower Manhattan. We are getting some truly extraordinary live images here in the studio. For those of you just joining us, lower Manhattan is in an absolute state of chaos-”

Tanks and other armoured vehicles roll past the store in a torrent of noise and Bob steps outside for a better look. More helicopters circle overhead and suddenly in the darkness between two skyscrapers, Bob sees it. Something huge moving in and out of the lights.

“This is a mandatory evacuation!” comes from a vehicle passing by. “We need everyone out of this area, now-!”

Bob heads back inside the store to find Gerard, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

“Hey, Gerard? Dude, I think we need to fucking get out of here. Like right fucking now. There's a load of serious shit going down outside.” He’s not listening. He’s throwing packages over his shoulder, looking for something on the shelves.

“Gerard? I’m fucking serious. We need to-” a group of people are gathered around a mounted TV, stolen stereos in their arms, staring, transfixed, at the screen. “…what’s going on?”

“-well, the military will not let us get too close, but from what we can see there’s clearly a sizeable mobilisation of troops and equipment and they’re trying to get everyone to leave the area-”

Next screen. There it is again, something, whatever it is, moving between buildings. 

“-Guess is as good as mine at this point, there appears to be something coming off of it, the ground is covered-

Next.

“-looks like there’s something falling off of it, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. There are pieces falling all over the street-”

“Oh fucking shit...”

They look like dogs…but…they have too many legs. More like giant fucking spiders skating over the street and sidewalks-

“-Whatever they are they’re moving, they’re-”

They’re jumping. Troops fire at them and one leaps up and-

“-oh! Oh my god! It’s-”

“Oh, shit…” Bob can hardly believe his eyes. And is about to shout for Gerard again when Pete finds him, Quinn following close behind. Both are almost hysterical.

“Dude, we gotta get out of here! Where is he?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him, I don’t know, he wont listen to me, he’s-” Bob follows them through the store. Gerard is on the phone.

“Hey, we have to go. Now.” Pete is saying, trying to pull Gerard’s hand from over his free ear. Bob can tell Pete is angry and scared, he has never seen him look like this.

“It’s time to leave the electronics store, seriously.” Bob says, helplessly.

“Come on man, this is-”

“-just stop it, okay?! Stop!” Gerard shouts. He pushes the phone harder to his ear and closes his eyes. Bob can hear the message. It’s Frank.

“-please…oh, god. I can’t- I can’t move. Fuck. It hurts, Gee…my…my apartment. It fell. Fell down on me and…I can’t…I’m bleeding and…Gee? Gee can you hear me? Oh god, please…” beep. “To delete this message-” he slams the phone shut and no one says anything for what feels like minutes. There is nothing to say.

He walks away, and the group follow.

April 9^th 11:47 pm.

“I’m coming to get you, okay. Just. Don’t give up. I’m on my way. Call me if. Just call me.” he’s on the phone again.

“Gee, I think you should, uh. Think about this.” Pete says, catching up with him. “Frank’s apartment is in Midtown. Which is. That way. And what the fuck else is that way?”

“Guys, wait up! Fuck…”

“-some horrific shit, okay? You’re walking right towards it.”

“Gerard, please. This is. Insane. It already killed Mikey. I’m not letting it kill you too!” Quinn shouts. “We are not going to the middle of the city. We are not.”

“No,” Gerard turns. “We’re not. You’re not coming with me.” he points to a side street where a crowd is being escorted by troops in the opposite direction.

“Look, there. Go with them. Follow the military, and just get out of here. Okay?” 

“Gee…”

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Bob turns towards Quinn and Pete. “Guys I think…we should…” Pete rolls his eyes.

“Jesus fucking shit.”

“Gee, wait up, we’re coming with you!”

“Wait! Fuck, man. Don’t make me tackle you!” Bob warns, jogging again, to catch up with Gerard.

“Look, just turn around. Get out of the city. I have to do this.”

“We’re coming. Okay? So. Shut the hell up and let’s just move.” Pete says.

“You don’t have to, I mean-”

“Seriously, dude. We’re coming.”

Gerard nods before turning on his heel and walking back towards the middle of the city. Bob takes a deep breath.

"Okay. Let's go."