The End Read Online Free PDF Page B

called out again and again as he wandered about but no answers came.  He made his way upstairs to the security checkpoints certain that if anyone was around they'd stop him from entering the secure area of the airport, especially in light of all the plane crashes but again he saw nothing.  At the entrance he saw TSA uniforms mixed in with the passengers empty clothes. 
    Amid a wrinkled sundress something shiny was sticking out.  He knelt down and picked up a small sealed pouch of something clear and squishy.  Finn quickly dropped it when he saw its match still lying inside a br a within the dress, "Someone's dropped their knockers." 
    "Hello.  Welcome to Philadelphia International Airport.  We're glad you're here and thank you for visiting our fine city."
    Finn leapt to his feet and ran towards the sound but it was just an automated message explaining the security area.  "Please remove all laptops, toiletries, and.." He made his way through the security gate without being stopped.  Inside the airport was more of the same.  One of the golf cart style carriers had crashed into a bookstore scattering paperbacks all over the floor.  Smoke was pouring out of a deep fryer that appeared to have a hat sticking out of it.  A fountain soda machine was overflowing soda onto the floor where a large plastic cup had gotten lodged against the dispenser trigger.  Finn got into the golf cart and began driving along the terminal through the empty airport. 
    He drove past the CNBC News retail outlet and noticed an empty studio was on the screen of the TVs they had on display, the ticker at the bottom still going with likely old news.  He slowed and watched the screen anyway.  President will focus on the middle class.  Followed by Apple and Samsung, Frenemies for life.   Followed by Highlights From NY Fashion Week.  Followed by more mundane news.  Not a single thing about the multiple plane crashes at Philadelphia airport or the plume of smoke pouring from center city or a horde of naked people running around with their knockers and todgers flapping about.
    He continued down terminal A in the cart.  There was another TV going behind the counter at the Chickie's and Pete's restaurant.  A clear view of the Phillies v. Marlins game was on screen and on it he saw someone walking across mid-field carrying a baseball bat, "Blimey."  The cart crashed into a stack of luggage carts. 
     
    . . .
     
    Leo sat for a while staring down at the empty field.  There were several fleeting moments when he thought of jumping, might have done it too if he'd had a few more beers from the Brew stand.  Instead he'd switched to hot dogs and was now too stuffed to do anything so drastic.  He made his way down to the dugout and then out onto the field.  He picked up Giancarlo's hat and put it on.  Then he picked up the baseball bat and pretended to swing.  He tossed the hat to the side and walked towards the pitchers mound where Holladay's jersey was flapping in the wind.
    Behind him in all its glory was the jumbotron screen, the big “WTF?” prominently displayed.  He wondered if there was anyone out there watching from home, anyone out there at all.  He tossed the bat to the side and picked up the baseball.  He raised a leg and extended his arm but before he let go of the ball he changed his mind and slid it into the back pocket of his baggy blue jeans.  Why not? he thought.
    He wasn't sure what to do with himself.  His apartment was on South Street and to the best of his knowledge, a jet had just crashed into his bedroom.  All he had were the clothes on his back.  He didn't even have a car and somehow he doubted the subway system was in working order.  It was only about an hours walk to Center City but what sort of fucked up chaos awaited him there?  After a while he decided to check it out anyway and within half an hour he was trudging up Broad Street.
    The city looked like a scene from pretty much any disaster movie he'd ever