Waves of fury, p.4
Waves of Fury, page 4
The balls on this one.
“I did,” I agree in a clipped tone. “Almost two hours ago.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” he snaps back. “I’ve been stuck in the elevator of your building.”
My ears start to ache again as pressure builds. I rub at my temples in an attempt to make the throbbing subside. “Just go. Take that cold sub with you.”
He gasps, and I wait for his retaliatory answer. But when I look up, he’s no longer glowering at me, but instead gaping out the window. I turn to see what has his attention.
The low, dark, and ominous storm clouds are retreating.
But that’s not what’s so strange.
Dread twists my stomach and bile creeps up my throat. I’m no longer pissed about my sandwich because something bad is happening.
“What’s happening with the water?” the kid asks, confusion in his tone.
I step closer to the window, trying to understand what I’m seeing. In the whole decade I’ve been here, I’ve never seen anything like it. The water is just…disappearing.
Somewhere else on my floor, I can hear nervous chattering, so I know the others can see it too. The bay is being drawn back rather quickly, as if someone pulled the plug and it’s all draining away.
I’m unable to provide the kid an answer to his question, nor am I able to whip out my phone to look for weather updates. I’m transfixed by the unusual vanishing bay. For each inch the storm clouds retreat, it seems to take the water with it. And because of this strange happening, we can’t see beyond the storm clouds to know what exactly the water is doing.
But it can’t be anything that bad, right?
San Francisco was voted the safest city in the world for the past three consecutive years.
The pressure in my ears increases and I groan, covering the sides of my head with my palms. I’m aware of the kid muttering something, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. All I can do is stare.
Boats, once docked at the many visible piers, are sitting on the rocky bottom, leaned over and bumped up against each other. The San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge looks out of place now that there’s no water beneath it.
A low vibration can be felt beneath my feet that buzzes its way up my body and to my teeth. The entire office seems to clatter quietly, clearly the rumbles being felt by everything everywhere. I’m vaguely aware of the kid cursing as he attempts to dial someone on his phone. I’m too transfixed to try to call anyone.
The lights in the building flicker, not for the first time today, but remain on. I let out a sharp exhale as another excruciating blast of pressure assaults my ears.
Wind whistles and the massive glass panes wobble slightly. Birds fly away from the building this time, getting tossed around as they try to make their escape. Some slam into the building across from ours, this time against their own volition, dying instantly.
“What the hell?” the kid exclaims at the bird spectacle.
I’m no longer interested in the birds. What’s more concerning is the empty bay. Where’s the water, and more importantly, when is it coming back?
The vibrations increase and it no longer feels like buzzing. My legs beneath me quiver. Movement catches my eye. The San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge is swaying and bouncing slightly. I would hate to be on that bridge right now.
Although, being up here, watching the bay vanish before my eyes isn’t much better.
Thunder rumbles in the distance and the sky lights up with a spiderweb of electric light. The clouds are nearly black as they paint the horizon with impending doom.
I feel as though I should be doing something but can’t find the strength to move my feet. I’m rooted in place, watching as this bizarre horror unfolds. The kid, like me, is gaping outside, like he also can’t believe his own eyes.
“They’re out there,” the kid chokes out, palm slamming against the glass. “My family is out there.”
Pity replaces the anger I felt earlier. “I’m sure they’re fine.”
Lies.
Nothing about this is fine.
Something terrible is happening. I can feel it deep in my rattling bones and the throbbing inside my ears.
The bay is gone.
It’s just gone.
Another rumble grinds its way through the building, making me unsteady on my feet. My desk chair rolls away and bumps into a credenza near the windows.
The loud chopping sounds of a helicopter break the eerie rumbles and it flies dangerously low just above the buildings toward the empty bay. It’s then I realize, like the birds, it doesn’t have control. The wind is carrying it toward the massive, angry storm clouds in the distance. And, like some action flick with great CGI, it gets sucked into the dark void.
For a moment, my mind spins as it grabs for answers. The obvious choice is that we’re experiencing one of the strange weather happenings around the globe. However, having always been a King and Koontz fan, I can’t help but wonder if it’s aliens or some sea monster or a figment of my fucked-up imagination.
Monsters or aliens would be an easy answer and something to fight.
Mother Nature is unstoppable and not exactly fair when she goes to war.
There’s no stopping this, whatever this is.
The black clouds begin to lift and dissipate, turning into a brilliant shade of dark blue.
Is the storm weakening? Is it going to give us our bay back?
It’s then I realize the clouds aren’t dark blue.
The clouds are gone.
No, the blue from the horizon to as far up as the eye can see, is a giant wall.
A giant wall of fucking water.
Sirens finally wail their warning, but it’s too late.
Holy shit.
Tsunami.
Tyler
I dial Aaron again. For the millionth time. Then Jesse.
Nothing except the too late alerts popping up on my phone.
This is not a drill. Tsunami warning. Seek higher ground immediately.
Fear claws its way up my throat and panic sets in, sending a tremble down my spine. My brothers. Fuck. My brothers are out there and I have no idea what to do about that.
Sirens go off all around the city.
My customer—Kellen, as the delivery app had said—has gone eerily quiet. All anger from his cold sub is nowhere to be found.
The ground rumbles again, this time audibly. I grab onto the thing nearest to me—Kellen’s arm—to keep from losing my balance. Beneath his suit, his triceps muscle is surprisingly firm. I internally chide myself for noticing something like that when the world appears to be going to hell.
Lights above us hum and buzz, flickering nonstop like we’re in some fucked-up apocalyptic office party rave.
“Holy shit,” Kellen hisses. “Holy shit.”
I refocus my attention beyond the glass rather than what’s happening in his office, searching the bay for signs of water. Nothing but a drained bowl of rocks. My gaze skims toward the storm clouds and stop when I find what I’m looking for.
Dread twists my gut as I attempt to make out what it is I’m seeing. It’s water. Endless amounts of it, swelling up—high, high, high, higher. It’s as though it’s being vacuumed away from the city and into the sky.
Are my brothers being sucked away too?
Have they capsized and been swallowed by the sea?
My fingers tighten their grip on Kellen’s arm. He must be as stunned as I am because he doesn’t gripe or push me away. We’re both frozen in terror, it would seem.
A scream pierces the air beyond his office, followed by someone crying and another yelling. This thing with the water—tsunami—is happening. It’s swelling and building and strengthening. We’re powerless to do anything but watch in horrified awe.
“W-What do we do?” I croak out, unable to bring my voice above a whisper. “What the fuck do we do?”
Kellen shrugs, making me aware of the fact I’m still clinging to him like he can save me. I forcefully wrench my hand from his arm, once again captured by the growing mountain of water.
Mom, Dad…you were right.
Seven years too soon, but you predicted the decimation of life.
Bitterness sours my tongue. It was easier believing they were crazy than accepting their fear was warranted. Fear of…this.
Dad was supposed to kill us all. That was their plan. However, the second he shot our mother in the head, the guilt was too much to bear. He couldn’t do that to his children, too, and put the gun in his mouth.
Are they watching from somewhere? Heaven? Hell? Another reality?
Are Aaron and Jesse with them now?
Am I all alone?
Someone makes a guttural, pained sound. I’m shocked to realize it’s me. The grief is threatening to drown me far quicker than any catastrophic wave.
Bile burns my esophagus. I try to swallow it down, only making myself more nauseous in the process. It’s then I’m aware of the cloying scent of marinara sauce and heavily seasoned meatballs. Absently, I zip up my satchel to keep from gagging.
Funny what you fixate on when your life is flashing before your eyes.
Like Kellen’s cologne. It smells fucking expensive. Until this moment, I always wondered what it would be like to have everything I ever wanted. Of being able to whip out a black AMEX and buy whatever I damn well pleased.
My brothers are drowning and I’m thinking about Lamborghinis.
I’m losing it. I’m losing my mind.
Another rumble of the earth has me grabbing onto Kellen again. This time, I don’t let go because I’d rather cling to my rude customer in the last few seconds of my life rather than die alone.
I’m all that’s left.
My ears pop and then I hear it.
A roar.
Softly at first and in the distance, somewhere beyond the wailing sirens.
Then the pressure in my head builds as the rush of sound grows in intensity. It takes me a second to realize the sound is from the sea.
“It’s coming,” Kellen hisses, gesturing wildly at the glass. “The water is coming back!”
Sure enough, the wave remains an imposing tower as water below it surges back toward the city. It’s like the biggest dam in the world has burst open, sending all the water in existence heading our way.
All I can do is stare, a captive to its impending wrath, unable to think of anything aside from the demise of my brothers.
There’s no way they could have survived this…thing.
It’s exactly that. A thing. Never in all my eighteen years of life have I ever read or learned anything about this. Sure, I know what a tsunami is or severe flooding. I even remember learning about Noah’s Ark on a YouTube video I stumbled upon once.
Nothing compares to what’s about to devour this city in one gulp.
Tsunami doesn’t feel like a big enough word to describe it.
Something tickles my jawbone and it takes a second to realize it’s a teardrop. The loss of my brothers physically aches. Soon, though, I’ll be gone too.
But what if they made it?
What if Aaron came back when he suspected something weird was going on with the weather?
What if they docked the Angler-traz and are sitting in our apartment, waiting for me?
I release Kellen’s arm and swipe at my wet cheek. I have to save them. I have to get to the apartment. And what about Tabby? Aaron will want me to save her too. I can grab her on the way.
Stumbling backward, I try not to think about the water that’s going to flood the city any second now and start for the door.
“Where are you going?” Kellen bellows after me.
“I have to find my brothers,” I choke out, my voice raw like I’ve swallowed razor blades. “I have to go before it’s too late!”
He’s on me in the next instant, snagging me by my backpack and keeping me from exiting the office.
“Let go!” I yell, trying to untangle myself from him. “Let go of me, you asshole!”
“It’s too late,” he whispers, voice resigned.
He physically turns me toward the windows once more. The roaring outside is louder, but it’s now accompanied with ground-rattling crashes as the water bulldozes its way through the piers and boats along the shore. Without any regard to past sea levels, the salty, monstrous water surges forward, rolling over buildings, cars, and most likely thousands of people below.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
The entire building trembles as water crashes into several structures nearby. Glass shatters, popping over and over like mini explosions all over the place. And then water consumes this building, making the entire thing vibrate like we’re on a violent rollercoaster.
Tabby.
I think of her and that crying toddler on her hip swimming for their lives, trapped inside a daycare on the first floor.
No one there will survive.
My gut twists and I stare helplessly out the window. Screams can be heard all over, but this particular office is silent as me and Kellen watch the extinction of San Francisco unfold. The water keeps surging forward and I can see it getting deeper and deeper, completely submerging some buildings.
How much water will we get?
Will we be safe at the top of this building?
The water continues to flood below us, rising rapidly, but surprisingly, that isn’t my entire concern.
No, my biggest fear right now is that wall of water in the distance that swells higher and closer with each passing second.
The worst is yet to come.
Kellen
“Brace yourselves!” I bellow to anyone who’ll listen.
The kid, now pale and cheeks wet with tears, remains immobile. He’d mentioned his brothers like he could go rescue them.
He can’t.
They’re gone.
Everyone, soon, will be gone.
With my office being half windows and a destructive wave that’ll hit us within seconds, I make a quick decision to try to protect us from the glass.
“Help me flip this!” I snap at the kid, gesturing wildly to my desk.
He remains frozen as I shove everything—laptop, folders, decorations—flying into the floor. Grabbing hold of the front of his T-shirt, I yank him to me so I can make eye contact.
“Desk. Now.”
I get a wobbly nod and then he snaps into action. Together, we flip the desk on its side. I shove him onto the ground behind it, taking one last glance at our impending doom. Slowly, I ease down onto my knees, keeping just my head above the edge of the desk so I can watch from relative safety.
The wave has lost some of its height, allowing me to see the dark storm clouds above and beyond it. But as it becomes less of a tower of water, it becomes more of a ravenous beast feeding on buildings in its wake.
Lights flicker and then the power goes out for good this time, thrusting us into muted darkness. As if a giant tsunami wave wasn’t terrifying enough all by itself, now we have to deal with it in the dark.
The building rumbles and quakes, making me wonder how well this structure made of steel and concrete can hold up against Mother Nature’s fury. Booms and crashes can be heard all around—a deafening cacophony of the apocalypse.
Water slams over the building, blinding me from seeing through the windows. It reminds me of a car wash as you wait for it to clean your vehicle while you sit safely inside to keep from getting wet.
The glass splinters into a giant spiderweb on one of the windows. And then another. Then, because this can’t get any more horrifying, a hole the size of a quarter pops open and water starts rushing into my office. Around the hole, the cracks grow bigger and more plentiful. I take that as my cue to look away. Falling to my ass beside the kid, I let out a strangled groan.
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” he asks, brown eyes wide.
Rather than answering his question, I gently take his hand, an unusual urge to offer him some sort of comfort—and maybe myself for that matter—and shake my head.
Liar.
It’s only a matter of time.
We’ll all be dead soon.
“What’s your name, kid?” I rasp out, squeezing his hand.
“T-Tyler,” he stammers. “You’re Kellen. The app told me.”
Sounds of water as it rushes into my office through what now seems to be multiple holes are distracting. He shudders and my blood turns to ice. Rather than letting fear consume us, I meet his gaze.
“Don’t worry. You’ll still get your tip,” I deadpan.
He blinks several times and his features transform from the scared little boy to the taunting guy who’d walked into my office with my cold-ass sandwich.
“Better be the best damn tip of my life,” Tyler says, flashing me a grin that feels out of place due to our situation. “After all I went through to get h—”
His words are drowned out—pun intended—as icy-cold water rushes past us, submerging us to our chests. I’m still holding his hand, but this time I’m clutching onto it as if my life depends on it.
Because it does.
What little life I have left.
“Is this a bad time to let you know I can’t swim?” I yell, clenching my eyes shut.
“Fuck!”
His response echoes inside my head as we’re swept away from the cover of my desk and are both slammed into the wall by my door. Water surges up over us and completely reaches the ceiling, trapping us in this tank of despair. Something hard slams into my side—and sharp—tearing through parts of my suit in an instant. I’m jolted with it, but Tyler’s hold on me is unrelenting. He yanks me away from the debris.
It’s too late.
We’re underwater and we’re going to die.
Then we’re being sucked in the opposite direction, like suds being pulled down into a drain. The thought of getting dragged back out to sea is so terrifying, I nearly black out. My other side crashes into what I think is my desk and then I’m being heaved out the window.
Out. The. Fucking. Window.
I’m dead.
A sharp pain in my shoulder has me exhaling what little breath I had left in my lungs. As the water rushes out of my office and attempts to take me along with it, I realize I’m still holding on to Tyler. Or, better yet, he’s holding on to me.
“I did,” I agree in a clipped tone. “Almost two hours ago.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” he snaps back. “I’ve been stuck in the elevator of your building.”
My ears start to ache again as pressure builds. I rub at my temples in an attempt to make the throbbing subside. “Just go. Take that cold sub with you.”
He gasps, and I wait for his retaliatory answer. But when I look up, he’s no longer glowering at me, but instead gaping out the window. I turn to see what has his attention.
The low, dark, and ominous storm clouds are retreating.
But that’s not what’s so strange.
Dread twists my stomach and bile creeps up my throat. I’m no longer pissed about my sandwich because something bad is happening.
“What’s happening with the water?” the kid asks, confusion in his tone.
I step closer to the window, trying to understand what I’m seeing. In the whole decade I’ve been here, I’ve never seen anything like it. The water is just…disappearing.
Somewhere else on my floor, I can hear nervous chattering, so I know the others can see it too. The bay is being drawn back rather quickly, as if someone pulled the plug and it’s all draining away.
I’m unable to provide the kid an answer to his question, nor am I able to whip out my phone to look for weather updates. I’m transfixed by the unusual vanishing bay. For each inch the storm clouds retreat, it seems to take the water with it. And because of this strange happening, we can’t see beyond the storm clouds to know what exactly the water is doing.
But it can’t be anything that bad, right?
San Francisco was voted the safest city in the world for the past three consecutive years.
The pressure in my ears increases and I groan, covering the sides of my head with my palms. I’m aware of the kid muttering something, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. All I can do is stare.
Boats, once docked at the many visible piers, are sitting on the rocky bottom, leaned over and bumped up against each other. The San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge looks out of place now that there’s no water beneath it.
A low vibration can be felt beneath my feet that buzzes its way up my body and to my teeth. The entire office seems to clatter quietly, clearly the rumbles being felt by everything everywhere. I’m vaguely aware of the kid cursing as he attempts to dial someone on his phone. I’m too transfixed to try to call anyone.
The lights in the building flicker, not for the first time today, but remain on. I let out a sharp exhale as another excruciating blast of pressure assaults my ears.
Wind whistles and the massive glass panes wobble slightly. Birds fly away from the building this time, getting tossed around as they try to make their escape. Some slam into the building across from ours, this time against their own volition, dying instantly.
“What the hell?” the kid exclaims at the bird spectacle.
I’m no longer interested in the birds. What’s more concerning is the empty bay. Where’s the water, and more importantly, when is it coming back?
The vibrations increase and it no longer feels like buzzing. My legs beneath me quiver. Movement catches my eye. The San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge is swaying and bouncing slightly. I would hate to be on that bridge right now.
Although, being up here, watching the bay vanish before my eyes isn’t much better.
Thunder rumbles in the distance and the sky lights up with a spiderweb of electric light. The clouds are nearly black as they paint the horizon with impending doom.
I feel as though I should be doing something but can’t find the strength to move my feet. I’m rooted in place, watching as this bizarre horror unfolds. The kid, like me, is gaping outside, like he also can’t believe his own eyes.
“They’re out there,” the kid chokes out, palm slamming against the glass. “My family is out there.”
Pity replaces the anger I felt earlier. “I’m sure they’re fine.”
Lies.
Nothing about this is fine.
Something terrible is happening. I can feel it deep in my rattling bones and the throbbing inside my ears.
The bay is gone.
It’s just gone.
Another rumble grinds its way through the building, making me unsteady on my feet. My desk chair rolls away and bumps into a credenza near the windows.
The loud chopping sounds of a helicopter break the eerie rumbles and it flies dangerously low just above the buildings toward the empty bay. It’s then I realize, like the birds, it doesn’t have control. The wind is carrying it toward the massive, angry storm clouds in the distance. And, like some action flick with great CGI, it gets sucked into the dark void.
For a moment, my mind spins as it grabs for answers. The obvious choice is that we’re experiencing one of the strange weather happenings around the globe. However, having always been a King and Koontz fan, I can’t help but wonder if it’s aliens or some sea monster or a figment of my fucked-up imagination.
Monsters or aliens would be an easy answer and something to fight.
Mother Nature is unstoppable and not exactly fair when she goes to war.
There’s no stopping this, whatever this is.
The black clouds begin to lift and dissipate, turning into a brilliant shade of dark blue.
Is the storm weakening? Is it going to give us our bay back?
It’s then I realize the clouds aren’t dark blue.
The clouds are gone.
No, the blue from the horizon to as far up as the eye can see, is a giant wall.
A giant wall of fucking water.
Sirens finally wail their warning, but it’s too late.
Holy shit.
Tsunami.
Tyler
I dial Aaron again. For the millionth time. Then Jesse.
Nothing except the too late alerts popping up on my phone.
This is not a drill. Tsunami warning. Seek higher ground immediately.
Fear claws its way up my throat and panic sets in, sending a tremble down my spine. My brothers. Fuck. My brothers are out there and I have no idea what to do about that.
Sirens go off all around the city.
My customer—Kellen, as the delivery app had said—has gone eerily quiet. All anger from his cold sub is nowhere to be found.
The ground rumbles again, this time audibly. I grab onto the thing nearest to me—Kellen’s arm—to keep from losing my balance. Beneath his suit, his triceps muscle is surprisingly firm. I internally chide myself for noticing something like that when the world appears to be going to hell.
Lights above us hum and buzz, flickering nonstop like we’re in some fucked-up apocalyptic office party rave.
“Holy shit,” Kellen hisses. “Holy shit.”
I refocus my attention beyond the glass rather than what’s happening in his office, searching the bay for signs of water. Nothing but a drained bowl of rocks. My gaze skims toward the storm clouds and stop when I find what I’m looking for.
Dread twists my gut as I attempt to make out what it is I’m seeing. It’s water. Endless amounts of it, swelling up—high, high, high, higher. It’s as though it’s being vacuumed away from the city and into the sky.
Are my brothers being sucked away too?
Have they capsized and been swallowed by the sea?
My fingers tighten their grip on Kellen’s arm. He must be as stunned as I am because he doesn’t gripe or push me away. We’re both frozen in terror, it would seem.
A scream pierces the air beyond his office, followed by someone crying and another yelling. This thing with the water—tsunami—is happening. It’s swelling and building and strengthening. We’re powerless to do anything but watch in horrified awe.
“W-What do we do?” I croak out, unable to bring my voice above a whisper. “What the fuck do we do?”
Kellen shrugs, making me aware of the fact I’m still clinging to him like he can save me. I forcefully wrench my hand from his arm, once again captured by the growing mountain of water.
Mom, Dad…you were right.
Seven years too soon, but you predicted the decimation of life.
Bitterness sours my tongue. It was easier believing they were crazy than accepting their fear was warranted. Fear of…this.
Dad was supposed to kill us all. That was their plan. However, the second he shot our mother in the head, the guilt was too much to bear. He couldn’t do that to his children, too, and put the gun in his mouth.
Are they watching from somewhere? Heaven? Hell? Another reality?
Are Aaron and Jesse with them now?
Am I all alone?
Someone makes a guttural, pained sound. I’m shocked to realize it’s me. The grief is threatening to drown me far quicker than any catastrophic wave.
Bile burns my esophagus. I try to swallow it down, only making myself more nauseous in the process. It’s then I’m aware of the cloying scent of marinara sauce and heavily seasoned meatballs. Absently, I zip up my satchel to keep from gagging.
Funny what you fixate on when your life is flashing before your eyes.
Like Kellen’s cologne. It smells fucking expensive. Until this moment, I always wondered what it would be like to have everything I ever wanted. Of being able to whip out a black AMEX and buy whatever I damn well pleased.
My brothers are drowning and I’m thinking about Lamborghinis.
I’m losing it. I’m losing my mind.
Another rumble of the earth has me grabbing onto Kellen again. This time, I don’t let go because I’d rather cling to my rude customer in the last few seconds of my life rather than die alone.
I’m all that’s left.
My ears pop and then I hear it.
A roar.
Softly at first and in the distance, somewhere beyond the wailing sirens.
Then the pressure in my head builds as the rush of sound grows in intensity. It takes me a second to realize the sound is from the sea.
“It’s coming,” Kellen hisses, gesturing wildly at the glass. “The water is coming back!”
Sure enough, the wave remains an imposing tower as water below it surges back toward the city. It’s like the biggest dam in the world has burst open, sending all the water in existence heading our way.
All I can do is stare, a captive to its impending wrath, unable to think of anything aside from the demise of my brothers.
There’s no way they could have survived this…thing.
It’s exactly that. A thing. Never in all my eighteen years of life have I ever read or learned anything about this. Sure, I know what a tsunami is or severe flooding. I even remember learning about Noah’s Ark on a YouTube video I stumbled upon once.
Nothing compares to what’s about to devour this city in one gulp.
Tsunami doesn’t feel like a big enough word to describe it.
Something tickles my jawbone and it takes a second to realize it’s a teardrop. The loss of my brothers physically aches. Soon, though, I’ll be gone too.
But what if they made it?
What if Aaron came back when he suspected something weird was going on with the weather?
What if they docked the Angler-traz and are sitting in our apartment, waiting for me?
I release Kellen’s arm and swipe at my wet cheek. I have to save them. I have to get to the apartment. And what about Tabby? Aaron will want me to save her too. I can grab her on the way.
Stumbling backward, I try not to think about the water that’s going to flood the city any second now and start for the door.
“Where are you going?” Kellen bellows after me.
“I have to find my brothers,” I choke out, my voice raw like I’ve swallowed razor blades. “I have to go before it’s too late!”
He’s on me in the next instant, snagging me by my backpack and keeping me from exiting the office.
“Let go!” I yell, trying to untangle myself from him. “Let go of me, you asshole!”
“It’s too late,” he whispers, voice resigned.
He physically turns me toward the windows once more. The roaring outside is louder, but it’s now accompanied with ground-rattling crashes as the water bulldozes its way through the piers and boats along the shore. Without any regard to past sea levels, the salty, monstrous water surges forward, rolling over buildings, cars, and most likely thousands of people below.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
The entire building trembles as water crashes into several structures nearby. Glass shatters, popping over and over like mini explosions all over the place. And then water consumes this building, making the entire thing vibrate like we’re on a violent rollercoaster.
Tabby.
I think of her and that crying toddler on her hip swimming for their lives, trapped inside a daycare on the first floor.
No one there will survive.
My gut twists and I stare helplessly out the window. Screams can be heard all over, but this particular office is silent as me and Kellen watch the extinction of San Francisco unfold. The water keeps surging forward and I can see it getting deeper and deeper, completely submerging some buildings.
How much water will we get?
Will we be safe at the top of this building?
The water continues to flood below us, rising rapidly, but surprisingly, that isn’t my entire concern.
No, my biggest fear right now is that wall of water in the distance that swells higher and closer with each passing second.
The worst is yet to come.
Kellen
“Brace yourselves!” I bellow to anyone who’ll listen.
The kid, now pale and cheeks wet with tears, remains immobile. He’d mentioned his brothers like he could go rescue them.
He can’t.
They’re gone.
Everyone, soon, will be gone.
With my office being half windows and a destructive wave that’ll hit us within seconds, I make a quick decision to try to protect us from the glass.
“Help me flip this!” I snap at the kid, gesturing wildly to my desk.
He remains frozen as I shove everything—laptop, folders, decorations—flying into the floor. Grabbing hold of the front of his T-shirt, I yank him to me so I can make eye contact.
“Desk. Now.”
I get a wobbly nod and then he snaps into action. Together, we flip the desk on its side. I shove him onto the ground behind it, taking one last glance at our impending doom. Slowly, I ease down onto my knees, keeping just my head above the edge of the desk so I can watch from relative safety.
The wave has lost some of its height, allowing me to see the dark storm clouds above and beyond it. But as it becomes less of a tower of water, it becomes more of a ravenous beast feeding on buildings in its wake.
Lights flicker and then the power goes out for good this time, thrusting us into muted darkness. As if a giant tsunami wave wasn’t terrifying enough all by itself, now we have to deal with it in the dark.
The building rumbles and quakes, making me wonder how well this structure made of steel and concrete can hold up against Mother Nature’s fury. Booms and crashes can be heard all around—a deafening cacophony of the apocalypse.
Water slams over the building, blinding me from seeing through the windows. It reminds me of a car wash as you wait for it to clean your vehicle while you sit safely inside to keep from getting wet.
The glass splinters into a giant spiderweb on one of the windows. And then another. Then, because this can’t get any more horrifying, a hole the size of a quarter pops open and water starts rushing into my office. Around the hole, the cracks grow bigger and more plentiful. I take that as my cue to look away. Falling to my ass beside the kid, I let out a strangled groan.
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” he asks, brown eyes wide.
Rather than answering his question, I gently take his hand, an unusual urge to offer him some sort of comfort—and maybe myself for that matter—and shake my head.
Liar.
It’s only a matter of time.
We’ll all be dead soon.
“What’s your name, kid?” I rasp out, squeezing his hand.
“T-Tyler,” he stammers. “You’re Kellen. The app told me.”
Sounds of water as it rushes into my office through what now seems to be multiple holes are distracting. He shudders and my blood turns to ice. Rather than letting fear consume us, I meet his gaze.
“Don’t worry. You’ll still get your tip,” I deadpan.
He blinks several times and his features transform from the scared little boy to the taunting guy who’d walked into my office with my cold-ass sandwich.
“Better be the best damn tip of my life,” Tyler says, flashing me a grin that feels out of place due to our situation. “After all I went through to get h—”
His words are drowned out—pun intended—as icy-cold water rushes past us, submerging us to our chests. I’m still holding his hand, but this time I’m clutching onto it as if my life depends on it.
Because it does.
What little life I have left.
“Is this a bad time to let you know I can’t swim?” I yell, clenching my eyes shut.
“Fuck!”
His response echoes inside my head as we’re swept away from the cover of my desk and are both slammed into the wall by my door. Water surges up over us and completely reaches the ceiling, trapping us in this tank of despair. Something hard slams into my side—and sharp—tearing through parts of my suit in an instant. I’m jolted with it, but Tyler’s hold on me is unrelenting. He yanks me away from the debris.
It’s too late.
We’re underwater and we’re going to die.
Then we’re being sucked in the opposite direction, like suds being pulled down into a drain. The thought of getting dragged back out to sea is so terrifying, I nearly black out. My other side crashes into what I think is my desk and then I’m being heaved out the window.
Out. The. Fucking. Window.
I’m dead.
A sharp pain in my shoulder has me exhaling what little breath I had left in my lungs. As the water rushes out of my office and attempts to take me along with it, I realize I’m still holding on to Tyler. Or, better yet, he’s holding on to me.
