Even with the sun directly overhead, the Wells Tower cast a long shadow. The headquarters of Wellplant Corporation was the tallest building in the city. It represented everything that was wrong with the world, but to be honest, at that moment, I was grateful for the shade.
I was headed to the Independence Seaport Museum, down on the waterfront, a half-hour walk from the Levline hub. I could have taken a bus or a cab, but I liked walking in the city, even in the summer heat. Plus, I needed to clear my head and steady my nerves.
It had been a while since I’d been in the Tower District, and I took a moment to glance around. From far away, the buildings that dominated the city skyline were quite a sight. They were majestic, especially at night, but thin and glassy and delicate. They looked like they’d break if you touched them. Up close, they were dizzying, even awe-inspiring, especially the Wells Tower, which soared into the blue sky behind me. As I watched, a lone cloud crashed into the top floor and was neatly sliced in half by the tower’s edge, creating two smaller clouds, which slipped past it on either side.
My neck was starting to ache from gazing up so high, and when I looked down again I was greeted by scowls from the business-types walking toward me, then around me—kind of like that cloud, but more clearly annoyed.
I rolled my eyes and resumed walking. I was pretty sure that whatever stress they were feeling about the afternoon ahead would pale compared to mine. I was about halfway to the museum, and as I approached the city’s Historic District, the Thursday lunchtime office-worker crowds of a few blocks earlier were increasingly replaced by tourists. It was late June in Philadelphia, and the surge of Independence Day visitors was ramping up.
I glanced at my watch. I had ten minutes to get there. I put my head down and hurried along, not looking up as I passed the Liberty Bell, as a mail drone whizzed by overhead, or even as a white van pulled up beside me. Not until a black hood dropped down over my head. And by then, it was too late.