“Call me back when you’re here, I’ll come and let you in.”
“Okay,” Samuel replied, “and what about –”
Before he could finish his question, the line went dead. Samuel didn’t know how to react. He was relieved that he had managed to speak to someone at Trident, but the conversation had undoubtedly left him with more questions than answers. Looking up at his grandfather clock again, Samuel wondered what could be happening at this hour of the night. Time often lost its relevancy in big business – especially in banking when global stock markets were involved – but he still found it curious that he was getting summoned at this time.
Catching his reflection in the mirror he wondered whether he had time for a quick shower and a shave. His stomach grumbled while he considered it, reminding him that it had also been several hours since he’d eaten. All in all, Samuel didn’t look like the respectable man that he was known for being around the office. He was scruffy and dirty and he felt horrendous too; drinking half a bottle of wine before he’d passed out hadn’t been the best idea he’d had.
Stumbling into his bathroom he opened the cabinet above the sink and reached for a packet of Tylenol, knocking two of them back as he cupped water in his hands from the faucet. He then splashed his face a couple of times, trying to make his eyes appear less red and his skin less blotchy. It was hardly a proper shower, but it would have to do. Something told Samuel that he needed to get to Trident as quickly as possible and if people were still in there from when the collapse had happened; him not having showered wouldn’t be headline news.
The shirt that his mother had found him in Freeport was a slightly uncomfortable fit, so he shrugged it off and put on a fresh one, taking a moment of solace in how the soft, clean fabric felt against his skin. He still had his pants and shoes on and so, grabbing his keys and cell from where he’d left them in the kitchen and a packet of potato chips, he darted out of his apartment and started thundering down the stairs and out of the building.
Stepping out into the city in the middle of the night felt weird, just like it had done at the Trident building when he failed to get inside. New York was different now in more ways than one and Samuel didn’t like that. In the distance he could hear alarms and sirens blaring, ringing out into the night sky with no one to answer their calls. Footsteps occasionally echoed off the walls of buildings, or the distant sound of an engine driving by. New York was normally just as alive through the night as it was during the day, but for once the city seemed to be sleeping, its residents shut away as they – like Samuel had – tried to figure out their next move.
The walk to Trident wasn’t particularly long. On days where the weather was tolerable – and if he had time in the morning – Samuel always chose to walk into work. The subway saved him about ten minutes, so that was always an option when it was raining, but there was no chance Samuel would dare risk that now. For this time of night, he had never felt more confident about walking through the city on his own.
The usual worries he would’ve had were replaced with new ones. With each step he took closer to Trident, more questions amassed in Samuel’s head. Why was he being called into the building and who it was that had given the order? The male voice on the other end of the line wasn’t one that he could place and for a split second Samuel wondered whether this could be a trap of some kind. After everything he had already witnessed, nothing seemed too far-fetched for him and he feared he could be making a mistake.
His need to find out what was happening at Trident overpowered that worry easily though. The one consuming question of what had happened to their bank plaguing Samuel’s every waking moment. He had to know the truth; he owed that to himself, to his family and to everyone else he’d interacted with since the crash. So, he kept putting one foot in front of the other, getting closer and closer to the Trident building until he was right outside the staff entrance once again. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and pressed redial.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Samuel spoke into his cell phone, hearing the same male voice as before. “It’s Samuel. I’m outside, at the staff entrance.”
“Right,” the man replied. “I’ll send someone down for you.”
Once again, the line cut off before Samuel could reply, leaving him with no choice but to stand and wait beside the staff entrance, hoping that whoever came down and let him into the building was a friendly face. As he waited, Samuel tried to figure out what he was hoping to hear. He’d still not really had the time to sit down by himself and consider what was going to happen next. It felt like a lifetime since he’d seen his parents, or spoken to his sister, Jessie. He could hardly even remember what he’d told her or what advice he’d given. The country was barely sixteen hours into this disaster and already so much had changed, Samuel was afraid of what more was to come if he was allowed into Trident only to receive more bad news. The staff entrance banged open in front of him.
“Westchester?”
“Err, yes?”
“Come in then. Hurry up.”
Samuel paused and looked at the man who had opened the door for him. It wasn’t someone that he recognized at all, nor was it someone he would have associated
