houston

And then the lights went out.

All of them.

In the bathroom. The light on the clock. The glow of his iPad over on the desk. Out.

'Bang.'

The iPod went silent, too. All at once. The U2 mix he had on was gone. Just like that.

'Bang.'

There was a solid thump on the side of the bed and Lily’s laugh turned to a sharp cry of pain as her shins hit the frame. She cursed and pitched forward into the bed. Marty could hear her but he could not see her.

Not at all.

For a single freaky moment he thought that it was him, that he’d gone blind. That the stress of sex with a woman two or three decades younger than him had pushed his ticker past the red line. He thought, Oh Christ, I’m going to die in a Houston hotel with a Korean hooker. Connie will be pissed.

But it wasn’t him. He understood that a half second later.

Outside, the sky was filled with stars and the lights of Houston were still on. A splash of jewels.

“What’s going on?” asked Lily, and the little-girl quality was gone, replaced by a voice that was colder, harsher, and in no way playful.

“I told you to leave the lights on,” he snapped.

“I did. Maybe there’s a power outage in the hotel.”

As she said it the world seemed willing to prove her wrong.

Outside the lights began changing. First it was the buildings closest to the Marriott. They went dark. Bang. All at once, as if someone had found a single switch that could shut off every light.

Then the buildings across the street from them went out. And the buildings on the next block. The next. The next.

'Bang.'

'Bang.'

'Bang.'

All dark.

Marty and Lily froze, staring through the glass at the city.

No, staring at the blackness that had been the city. Now it was nothing. Only the upper floors were edged with thin blue lines of starlight. And Marty had an irrational thought.

At least the stars didn’t go out.

It was almost the last thought he had.

He heard the sound then. Not an engine whine. No, he might have understood what was about to happen.

This was a whistling sound. Almost a shriek.

Getting closer.

Getting louder. Something moving so fast through the dark air that the wind screamed along its sides.

Marty knew what it was. He knew.

The moment that his brain identified what it was … that was his last thought. He even said it aloud.

“They’re falling,” he said in a whisper that was filled with awe. “They’re all falling.”

A moment later a Boeing 737 struck the top floor of the Marriott.

Between the hotel and the airport, the rest of the planes stacked up for landing fell.

-Kill Switch pg. 118-120), Kindle Edition.