Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Once Tyler is settled beside me, Gerry heads back down to retrieve the first aid box and the backpack. While they were gone, with Hope’s help, I’d removed my jacket. Since Tyler is in just boxers and shivering, I grab my damp jacket and drape it over him. He curls against me as though I’m some magical source of comfort for him.
Gerry hands me an open bottle of water. I graciously accept it, sipping a few swallows before offering it to Tyler. He tilts his head up and parts his lips. I pour some of the water into his mouth. Once he swallows it down and doesn’t throw up again, I give him more. We share the bottle until it’s empty, but luckily, based on what I can see in the bag, we have plenty more for the time being.
Frannie and Brian are gone.
It’s immediately felt by all of us. There’re seven of us left.
The gray light from the cracks and a few holes in the outer walls illuminates our space just enough to see the bone-deep weariness etched on everyone’s faces. It hasn’t even been a full day and we’re all at our wits’ end.
How much more of this can we take?
Are we prolonging inevitable death?
Kyle tosses a couple of candy bars at me. I unwrap a Snickers and take a bite, damn near devouring half the candy bar. Then I feed Tyler. He shifts until he’s sitting right beside me and less in my lap. Though I miss the loss of his body against mine, it eases the pain in my side. Plus, knowing he’s feeling marginally better makes me happy.
We share the Snickers and then I open the Butterfinger next. Once it’s gone, my stomach grumbles in protest. Candy bars aren’t exactly a prime source of nutrition, but it’s all we have at the moment. I just hate that two people gave up their lives for us to have a damn snack.
The group must feel something similar because no one speaks. Elise continues to cry, despite how much it clearly bothers Kyle. Hope watches him with narrowed, furious eyes. Gerry keeps his face buried in his hands while Barb sleeps undisturbed. Slowly, my tense muscles begin to unravel their tension. The storm seems to have lessened in the last couple of hours. Soft pattering of rain can be heard beyond the ever-present groans and moans of the building.
Yesterday morning, when I woke up to get ready for work, I’d have never expected the building would be underwater and a holding tank for a shark. This shit is insane. I couldn’t have made it up if I’d tried. I imagine talking to my brother about this. There’s no way in hell he’d believe me. The image of his disbelieving stare in my mind has a smile twitching at my lips.
It’s gone, though, when I think of Frannie, who’s probably shark food at this point. Even if we wanted to retrieve her body, it wouldn’t be safe.
Slowly, the sounds of heavy breathing fill the air, and soon, Gerry’s snores. Everyone is wiped from our terrible morning. I think Tyler is napping too until he speaks.
“I tried to stay and help for as long as I could,” he whispers, a shiver running through him. “She forced me to leave.”
“There’s nothing you could have done.”
I believe this because if there were, he’d have done it. Tyler is that kind of guy. He’s not like Kyle—ready to bail on others when the going gets tough. This has to be killing Tyler.
“I really am sorry, Kell.”
It’s the second time he’s called me this. I’ve always been Kellen. Even back home. Never Kell. I like it.
“I know. Stop beating yourself up over it, though. It won’t change anything.”
He nods and lets out a heavy sigh. “Do you think we’ll ever get out of here?”
It’s looking less and less likely by the day.
Still, I give him the gift of hope. “We will. Now rest.”
This time, he sleeps. And finally, I do too.
Tyler
Yap-yap-yap-yap-yap-yap!
I wake to the sound of a dog barking in the distance, barely heard beyond the grumbling complaints of both the unsteady building and our crabby group. But it gives me hope for the first time since this whole debacle started that maybe there are more survivors out there. It continues to rain outside, though, which means leaving our shelter isn’t quite possible at the moment.
A shiver wracks through my body, making me fully aware of my state of undress. I’m wearing nothing but my boxers and Kellen’s jacket. Though it smells like him and oddly comforting, I feel at a disadvantage not being dressed. Sitting up, I locate my clothes stacked neatly in Kellen’s lap. We’ve slept away the afternoon and it’s growing dusky in our already darkened shelter. The few cracks on the outer walls that let in natural light don’t reveal anything aside from the steady stream of rain.