It was after 4am before Neighborhood Watch Captain [color=red]Kimmie Dolan[/color] showed up at the Tram Terminal, accompanied by a new face. She introduced [color=red]Carlton Grimes[/color] to [color=red]Officer Naomi Wilde[/color], explaining, "He was the only one at the fire station."

"I'm sorry, [color=red]Hondo[/color]," the big, [i]buff[/i], Black fireman apologized. "There's panic everywhere. The three on shift with me split to check on their families. I've never seen anything like that before. [i]None[/i] of us have ever seen anything like this before." He expressed the same feeling others had about the Blackout being caused by an EMP weapon, then explained, "None of the equipment was functional, so the guys -- and gal, sorry -- didn't see any reason for sticking around and leaving their families sitting in the dark scared to death. I mean, have you seen the fires? [i]Those[/i] were [i]jets[/i] fallin' out of the sky." Some automatic gunfire off in the far distance preceded Carlton's comment, "And have you heard the gunfire? [i]What the fuck?[/i]"

The three -- Hondo, Carlton, and Kimmie -- chatted about the situation a moment before Naomi pointed to a long, heavy metal bar in the fire fighter's hand. With a touch of humor she asked, "So, I take it that's our key to this door?"

Carlton answered the question by stepping up to the barrier, ramming the wedge end of the bar in between the two matching doors, and pulling back. With a great grunt, he forced one of the doors to pop free. He tossed the bar aside with a loud, metal on blacktop clanging, and waved a welcoming hand toward the opening. "Ladies first."

"Oh, [i]hell[/i], no," Naomi said. She gestured Hondo forward instead, saying, "Brawn before beauty."

There was laughter, and -- seeing Hondo snatch up his own -- Naomi offered her bodega lantern to Carlton, telling him, "You're next. I'll guard the rear."  

[center]...............................[/center]

Almost a football length above the East River, the initial [i]general[/i] panic of the passengers in the stationary Tram Car had faded and only a few of the 15 people on board were still verbally expressing their fear or anger. On their chairs near the Manhattan, [i]front[/i] end of the Car, [color=red]the Hendersons[/color] were all holding each other tightly against another concern: the growing cold. The heaters in the Tram weren't working any more than were the lights or emergency phone, and people were beginning to feel the [i]feels like[/i] temperature which -- in the past 5 hours and up here in a wind that was beginning to strengthen -- had dropped to the low 40s.

"I can see people down there," a guy near the Roosevelt Island, [i]back[/i] end of the car said. Answering another person's question, he added, "I dunno, I can't tell if they're working to get us out of here or not. Maybe they're just standing around."

"Laughing at us," someone said, leading to some back-and-forth comments between passengers who did or didn't find such conversation humorous. The same person who'd made the joke said, "I'm more concerned about [i]that![/i]"

He pointed off toward the Rockefeller University Building, which by now was nearly fully engulfed in a still growing conflagration.  Viola studied the flames a moment, then quietly asked someone near her who'd agreed with the [i]worried[/i] comment, "Why should we be worried about that?"

The man just beyond her son pointed not to the Rockefeller but to the building beside it. "One building sets the next on fire, then the next, then the next ... and before you know it, it's right out there--"

He pointed directly ahead, toward the Manhattan Terminal of the Tram, finishing, "--melting the cables that're keeping us up in the air."

In her arms, Angela began crying again, signaling that she'd awoken again from her sleep; she murmurred, "I want Daddy. Where's Daddy?" 

Viola hugged both kids tightly, telling them, "Don't worry, Daddy'll be at the end of the Tram ride to meet us, I promise."

Of course, Viola couldn't be certain of that for a multitude of reasons: first, Robert couldn't be certain that his family had made this particular transit on the Tram, thus he might not have any idea that they were up here; second, the family resided in and Robert worked in Greenville, the southernmost portion of Jersey City, which put [i]both[/i] the Hudson River [i]and[/i] the island of Manhattan between him and his family's current location; and, very obviously, the Blackout seemed to be affecting the entirety of the New York Metro Area -- including automobiles -- which meant that Robert couldn't use either the family car [i]or[/i] public transportation to get to [i]either[/i] the Manhattan [i]or[/i] Roosevelt Island Terminals ... [i]neither of which Viola thought she and her children were likely to get to anytime soon![/i]