Page 58 of The Storm

I don’t even have to say anything. I don’t think he has to see me. My need is in the air all around us, plain as day. Nothing about what I want from him is hidden from him. I’m an open book, and not poetry or something challenging that needs to be deciphered. I’m a picture book at best, everything spelled out.

He leans closer.

“Blue,” he says. Leans even farther. Until our foreheads touch. He breathes out, and I breathe him in. “I’m…” he says. And then nothing else. He tries again. “I…” Stalls. “Blue, I?—”

Whatever he’s planning to say next is stopped by a sound. A faint rumble in the distance.

We both go still. It’s really quiet at first. So quiet you wouldn’t be at fault for dismissing it as nothing.

You’re imagining it. Don’t get your hopes up.

“Did you hear that?” I whisper.

“Yes.”

The rumble of the engine is now accompanied by faint beeping.

Something patters down on the sides of the fridge. Almost like rain.

I flinch, look up, and tense.

“Okay,” I say. “Okay.” My heart slams in my chest.

The sound comes again, this time even louder. There’s a low groan of something heavy being dragged away and then tossed aside. A loud scraping sound follows.

“Is it getting closer?” I ask.

“Fuck.” He scrambles up and turns the light on. “Holy shit.” He’s pounding his fist against the fridge then, the sound loud like a gunshot. “Hey!” he shouts. “We’re here. Hey! Hello!” He follows that with another few pounds of his fist. Something slams against the top of the fridge, and I instinctively cover my head with my arms for a moment.

Nick keeps hammering his fist against the side of the fridge until finally something happens. Somebody knocks back.

Nick whirls around.

He whoops, and I’m not sure who moves first, but suddenly we’re hugging.

Somewhere there are muffled voices and more rumbling of engines. There’s a dull, repeated thud. Metal against metal.

I freeze.

“Nick,” I say.

“I hear it.” He grabs my arm, fingers digging into my skin.

Then a voice, muffled and faint, but there.

“...here I think.”

“Hey!” I shout. “We’re here.”

“Down here! We’re trapped!” Nick shouts.

The fridge creaks and dust shakes loose above us.

“Careful,” Nick says immediately, pulling me closer to him.

“Hold on,” somebody calls out from somewhere on our left.

Something inside my chest lurches.