TWENTY-SEVEN Quincy #2
“Unreal.” Sebastian pulls out his phone, videoing the area around us. He makes a couple comments about our location, noting the current conditions. “Apocalyptic shit. My producers are going to lose their minds.”
“I’m glad other people aren’t outside.” I try to see what’s happening up the road, but a clap of thunder booms overhead, distracting me. “That’s odd. You don’t get this much lightning in the eye.”
“I think we can agree this is not a normal hurricane. It has a mind of its own. Following almost the exact same path as Charley and repeating history.”
“Same small, compact eye. Same fast-forward movement. It’s like it copy and pasted itself.”
“Water is getting high.” He points to the street submerged under a rush of waves. The rain picks back up, fat drops falling on us, and we might’ve misjudged how much time we had. “We should start to head back inside.”
“But we’ve only—”
“Quincy.” My name is ripe with warning. “Inside. Now.”
“Okay. Just one more—”
A tree branch above us snaps. I scream and cover my head just as Sebastian pushes me out of the way. I tumble into the mud, rolling three times before coming to a stop on my stomach. I jump to my feet, checking myself for injuries and finding none.
“This is why we’re going inside,” he grunts. There’s a scratch on his arm, blood trailing down his bicep. Another on his cheek and a clump of leaves in his hair. His eyes rake over me, an exhale leaving when he sees I’m unharmed. “Right fucking now. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Are you okay? Did the branch hit you?”
“Just a graze.” He plucks a leaf from my hair. “Standing near a tree wasn’t my brightest idea.”
“I contributed. I’ll take half the blame.”
“We’re both guilty parties.”
It’s hard to hear him over the wind that’s starting to roar again, unleashing its power on an innocent world after a brief dormant state. Rain falls in sheets, buckets of water saturating the ground and us from our head to our toes.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Do me a favor, Quinny baby.” Sebastian’s thumb wipes away a drop of rain from my face. A new one replaces it a second later. “Get back to the room safe, okay?”
“I’ll race you there,” I say, hoping humor can quell the rising fear puncturing my chest. We need to walk across an open parking lot for one hundred meters without any protection. “Winner gets first access to the snacks.”
“On three,” he says. Behind him, another roof gets ripped off. It flies into the window of the building next to it, smashing straight through the glass. “One. Two. Three!”
I take off in a sprint. I can’t see a thing, moving in what I think is the general direction of the hotel, but I could be headed straight for higher water and an even bigger danger.
Everything in front of me is a sea of black.
I choke on a gulp of air, freezing all the way down to my bones.
I keep moving. There’s the echo of a crack near my left shoulder, followed by a shout.
Another falling branch grazes my arm. I stumble when I stomp in a puddle, the water going nearly up to my knees, and when there’s not an arm to pull me out, I realize I’m alone.
“Sebastian,” I scream. I spin and search around me, finding nothing but darkness. A spark of green in the sky from a transformer blowing. Endless noise that won’t stop, and my stomach close to bottoming out. “Sebastian.”
I stand motionless, hoping he’s not far.
Any second now he’ll be right next to me, but the longer I wait, the more I’m filled with dread.
He’s not here.
He’s not coming.
A sob rattles out of me, a shiver racking my body as I wipe my eyes. I force my legs to move, one foot that feels like lead in front of the other, dodging the destroyed part of a gas station sign. There’s a slice against my leg, sharp pain that catches me off guard, but I keep going.
Please let me get there safe.
Please let Sebastian be okay.
Hearing my offerings, a hazy yellow light appears.
It’s the lantern Sebastian used to prop open the emergency exit.
I’m fifty feet away. Forty, then thirty.
At twenty, another sob works up from my throat.
At ten, I’m shaking. At five, I’m sprinting into the hallway, the contents of the protein bar I ate before falling asleep close to coming up.
It takes a few deep breaths to calm down. To get my head on right, needing to be rational, not emotional. It’s not the time for split-second decisions, and I tell myself I’ll give him ten minutes. Ten minutes, and I’ll go back out looking for him. I won’t stop until I find him.
I shiver and wrap my arms around my body, refusing to give up hope. I pace over the carpet, mumbling every positive mantra I can muster while jumping at every noise, thinking it might be him.
Then, I hear it.
My name drifting through the air.
Again and again I hear it, a bellow from beyond, and I blink. When I open my eyes, desperate and close to giving up, I see Sebastian charging toward me, every part of his body drenched. There’s a limp to his left leg, his mouth a twisted display of despair, and I sob.
“Sebastian.” I close the distance between us, running to him and throwing my arms around his neck. I press my fingers against his throat, checking his pulse. “You’re okay.”
“Branch got me. I fell face-first over it. I think I twisted my knee, but I kept going. Then I saw ducks.” He buries his rain-soaked face into my hair. “Baby ducks. They were stuck under a downed tree. I couldn’t leave them.”
“You selfless, thoughtful asshole.” My hands move to his shirt, gripping a fistful of the translucent material. “I was so worried about you. I thought you—”
“I’m here. I’m here, and I’m okay.”
We don’t let go of each other until we find our room. He closes the door, and before I have a chance to take another breath, he’s pushing me into the wall. Kissing me roughly, hungrily, and I gasp against his mouth.
“Want you,” he mumbles, cupping my breast through my wet shirt and pinching my nipple. “Need you.”
I scramble to pull his shirt over his head and run my hands across his chest. Alive. Safe. Mine. “Don’t ever leave me like that again.”