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(Nowadays, it all goes to the same place)
On the big screen, she found the week worth it. “I saw that on Robbie’s, too,” Janet said. “Dust cloud from when Tory hit the dirt.” The sentence stung foul on her lips.
“Then, why is it on Derek’s?” Rick asked. His eyes locked on the footage four feet taller than himself.
“What?” Janet joined him. Feet bearing her weight, she typed as fast as her fingers could take her. Frame upon frame, Janet threw five timestamps up around Derek’s recording. Three of them showed the brewery at 21:48:59:23. Of those three, all trained on Garret, all showed the dust cloud. “Just one more second,” Janet sorted and pulled for Torin’s copy of that moment. Having sent a duplicate to Joanne, the file was retrievable from The Lab’s main hard drive. Janet split the screen with Derek’s fifteen seconds of fame. Torin’s view did not shed any helpful insight on the event, but stood as a tent stake for that moment in time. All it showed were feet: the soles of Torin’s own boots. Janet clicked away again—with enhanced vigor. Torin’s footage split with Joanne’s own recording. Torin’s decent played out to the point of impact. Janet clicked a set of commands again. Every screen synchronized, slowed then played the moment so accosting to watch. Torin struck the ground feet first. Dust puffed on Jo’s screen at Torin’s left ankle. The joint popped out to the side, taking the would-be-hero to the dirty earth in a hurry. Torin slid with a bounce that followed her body through to the death of momentum. The ‘dust’ lingered. When Torin’s ribs hit the earth, a cloud grew from the epicenter—her body rebounding, some of the powdery dirt rose higher. None of which, however, matched the height of what they were seeing.
“Spirit!” Rick called loud enough to ring all in SNI awake. Janet winced in her ongoing effort to stay so.
“Dammit, Rick,” she muttered until her ears let go of the bells now alive.
“I’m sorry,” Rick apologized. “But, am I right?”
SNI: Thorndale (part one)