His dress shoes could only run so
fast and those foreign creatures were gaining on him. He was running out of
energy by the time he reached the bridge to Brooklyn. They had already broken
the bridge in two with a crack as wide as a city bus. He had to take the risk
because they were getting closer and it was either jump or be ripped up the way
they did to his driver thirty minutes earlier. He got closer and closer to the
crack in the bridge; just as quick as he took off he felt the tip of his right
shoe miss the other side.
He woke up to the sound of his
alarm, besides the sweat on his forehead nothing was out of the ordinary. He
got himself out of bed, showered and went downstairs. After his coffee and
cereal he left his upper Manhattan apartment, got in the back seat of a black
Lincoln and headed to work. As the car took the corner onto 5th he
recognized the terror on the faces of the citizens of New York City. He also
saw the familiar terrifying face of those unwanted visitors.
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