I Survived the Attacks of September 11th, 2001 (I Survived, Book 6)

By Lauren Tarshis

On the day that shocks the realm, one boy simply desires to locate his family members. a robust addition to the gripping I SURVIVED series.

The merely factor Lucas loves greater than soccer is his Uncle Benny, his dad's ally on the fireplace division the place they either paintings. Benny taught Lucas every thing approximately soccer. So while Lucas's mom and dad come to a decision the game is just too risky and he must surrender, Lucas has to speak to his largest fan.

So the following morning, Lucas takes the teach to town rather than the bus to varsity. it is a brilliant, appealing day in ny. yet simply as Lucas arrives at his uncle's firehouse, every thing adjustments -- and not anything will ever be an identical again.

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He simply had a concussion. yes, it used to be worse than the concussion he’d gotten in the course of play-offs final season, and the only earlier than that, in the course of the summer time after fourth grade. yet he knew he could recuperate if he took it effortless, like the different instances. That evening, Dad got here into Lucas’s room to ascertain on him. “Feeling ok? ” he requested. “I’m strong, Dad,” Lucas stated. He particularly was once feeling far better. What killed him was once understanding he’d be off the sector for twelve days. He already neglected the blokes. taking a look up at Dad, Lucas observed a face nearly precisely like his personal — they even had an identical specks of eco-friendly of their brown eyes. “You want whatever? ” Dad requested. “I’m good,” Lucas stated back. Lucas stayed very nonetheless, hoping Dad could stick round and speak. yet Dad stood up. He leaned over and kissed Lucas at the brow. And he was once long past. Lucas’s center sank a bit. There were a time whilst Dad may have plopped himself down on Lucas’s mattress and introduced his plan for his or her subsequent event. a few nights again then, they’d look forward to mother to go to sleep so that they may possibly sneak right down to the basement to paintings at the Seagrave. Dad and Lucas were a group — a group of 2. yet then got here the warehouse fireplace. years had handed because it occurred, however the thoughts have been nonetheless sharp — the doorbell ringing in the course of the evening, the manager and Uncle Benny status within the doorway, nonetheless stinking of smoke. Mom’s tears. And later, the sight of father wrapped in bandages, his face white with ache. Lucas had regularly recognized that his dad’s activity was once risky. occasionally Dad might deliver Lucas to the firehouse on his days off. Lucas might support with the chores — washing the truck, cooking lunch, checking the hoses. yet what he enjoyed so much used to be sitting round the huge, around kitchen desk, hearing the fellows speak about the fires they’d fought. To Lucas, they have been superheroes. They bumped into constructions jam-packed with blazing orange flames and choking black smoke. They used steel spears to break home windows, rip out partitions, and bash via doorways. They carried humans down oven-hot stairwells and dangled from ropes 1000's of toes within the air. The fires they tamed have been extra evil and ferocious than any video-game villain or motion picture monster. however it wasn’t till the warehouse fireplace that Lucas understood what a fireplace may well do to a true guy, a guy like his dad. Dad had by no means said what occurred to him within that warehouse. All Lucas knew was once that 4 firemen died, and pop used to be badly burned in an explosion. Even in any case this time, the scars on Dad’s palms have been vivid pink and lumpy, like uncooked hamburger. however the burns weren’t the worst of what that fireplace did to Dad. It took away his effortless smile and booming chortle. It grew to become him quiet. a few days Dad slightly talked in any respect. He’d get this glance in his eyes, like his brain was once in different places — most likely sifting during the ashes in that warehouse. Lucas stopped asking while they’d come back to that version of the Seagrave, which was once half-finished and lined with dirt within the basement. And whilst the stories of that evening got here again, or he all started being concerned that Dad might by no means be himself back, he’d shut his eyes and picture himself at the soccer box, surrounded via the fellows, their voices calling out his identify as he made one in all his well-known catches.

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