Pat turned around and began to walk against the flow of pedestrian traffic back towards his hotel. He made it about halfway there when there was another terrific explosion. Looking up, Pat saw the remains of a jet aircraft slicing through the other tower, and watched in horror as pieces of airplane and building cascaded towards the ground.
"Evacuate the area!" he heard above the screams and the wail of sirens. The stream of humanity moving away from the stricken buildings swelled into a flood, and it was all Pat could do to hold his ground as he pressed himself against a shattered storefront. He could see his reflection in the cracked plate glass window, and instinctively paused to adjust his wig and examine his profile to make sure he was still passable.
Looking back at him was a dazed young woman, with strands of hair falling across her forehead. Her blue dress was torn at the hem, and her legs were a bloody mess. But she was definitely a woman, not that anyone in the crowd would have taken the time to study her. They had more important things on their minds.
For Pat, however, the enormity of the surrounding tragedy was dwarfed by his fear that he would be discovered to be a man wearing a dress. He tried to force his way against the tide of humanity, eventually returning to the revolving doors of his hotel. Two policemen blocked his way.
"I have to get back to my room."
"Sorry, lady, this area has been sealed off. Nobody gets in."
"But officer…"
"You heard me. We have a lot of injured people here. Please move on."
Pat could see that the situation was hopeless. As he joined the frantic crowd on the sidewalk, he forced himself to think about a new plan. If he could not return to his hotel room, he would have to find some other way to get out of his clothes and get into something presentable. Then, he could ride out the crisis until things returned to normal.
Mentally, Pat inventoried the contents of his purse.
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