The siblingsâ€™ shoulderâ€™s tensed simultaneously at Nathanâ€™s question. They glanced to the otherâ€™s face, then back to Nathanâ€™s in perfect synchronization. Rainieâ€™s eyes squeezed shut and she pinched the bridge of her nose, her headache coming back in fierce. Adrian ran a hand through his red and black hair, his gray eyes straying about the room.<br/><br/>Yes, they would have to cross the bridge to get back to their apartment.<br/><br/>Rainie sighed. â€œWhere are we again?â€ She asked the room.<br/><br/>Adrian was the one that answered her. â€œSomewhere around Crown Heights and Bushwick.â€<br/><br/>Rainie nodded, her internal map zeroing in on that area. â€œThe tunnel is collapsed, the Brooklyn isnâ€™t an option, and itâ€™s likely the 495 tunnel collapsed too. We could try the Williamsburg bridge, but Iâ€™m not sure if itâ€™s still standing or not... We could also try the Manhattan bridge, but it's so close, we could run the risk of bumping into them...â€ They had always taken the Brooklyn Bridge. She recalled the Williamsburg bridge, stretching over the East River, not far away from the Brooklyn, but far away enough for comfort. â€œWe should be able to avoid them if we stay away from the piers...â€<br/><br/>Adrian shoved his hands in his pockets, considering this. He had heard that the Williamsburg had crumbled, but theyâ€™d also said the Empire State building had fallen, when it was, in fact, still standing. The Statue of Liberty, however, hadnâ€™t been so lucky. Theyâ€™d covered her collapse on the news before TV lines had cut off, when the chaos was beginning to break out.<br/><br/>But there was a chance.<br/><br/>Rainie looked at Nathan, her mental map falling away and her eyes refocusing. She shrugged and said, â€œWorth the trip?â€ Internally, she was praying that it was a good enough plan. The Brooklyn Bridge still may very well be their only option, if it turned out the Williamsburg was out. She considered trying to take a car...but really, the roads were chaotic. It was like time had frozen and the usual bumper-to-bumper traffic sat unmoving like a still-life painting. There would be no traversing such a mess.