On the forty-third floor, Tim sat with his legs crossed listening to the transistor and munching on a small bag of chips. "Coffee ... hot coffee. I can smell it clear up here."

Jenna giggled and took another sip of water. "I sure hope that chopper comes back. Are you sure we can't go down the stairs?"

"No, I'm not sure. But suppose we go down and the chopper comes?"

Seely lightly touched her swollen jaw and slowly exercised it. When she talked, her words were slightly slurred, "You know, I hardly remember getting hit. I'm not even sure what hit me."

"Well I know what hit me," Jenna said. "That putrid modern art painting by the elevators just flew off the wall. Oh Seely, I was hoping we would wake up and this would be just a bad dream. It's real, isn't it? I wanna go home."

Seely tenderly touched Jenna's hand, "Me too."

"I think we should try to go down the stairs. We don't know for sure the stairs are blocked and the chopper might not ever come back."

Tim lowered his head and looked at Jenna through the tops of his eyes, "I've got ten bucks says we can't get down. A floor collapsed, remember?"

"Well, maybe we can find a way to climb around that floor, you know, down the side of the building. The windows are broken and we could get back in."