Page 98 of From Rivals to I Do

Just then, in the midst of the tempest, a figure emerges, and a surge of relief courses through me as I realize it’s Derrick. At that moment, the world shifts, and I see him as more than just the man next door and a want-to-be grump from the airplane ride.

Derrick doesn’t hesitate. With the precision and speed of a well-trained soldier, he grabs me and pulls me away from the collapsing entrance. The world around is becoming an ocean of debris, and he drags me toward his home. It’s a desperate dash, every second counting. I cling to him, the urgency and fear pushing me beyond what I thought I was capable of.

We rush through his front door, and he leads me upstairs to the roof. As our feet hit the steps, I can hear the raging water right behind us. It seems we could not run fast enough. We finally make it to the exit door for the roof entrance. Derrick rams into the door, and we soon realize the door is stuck. Derrick quickly takes a few steps back and runs into the door with a powerful Karate kick, and the hard metal door swings open to the winds and roar of the waves. We enter the rooftop panicking and gasping for air. Derrick slams the door shut, and instantly it feels like a refuge, an island of safety amid the chaos. The ground continues to shake, the sound of destruction echoing in our ears. But on the rooftop, we find a respite. It’s a haven above the turmoil, the concrete roof and brick building offering protection as the world underneath continues to drown.

Trying to figure out what is happening and thinking about Alex, I feel my mouth swell with blood. I’d gotten a lip cut, so I spit it out immediately. I can hear Derrick’s breath, it’s as ragged as mine. I am suddenly swallowed up by our ragged breaths, and every emotion that I have encountered this past year enters my head. Beyond that, all that’s now enshrouded me is fear, as I see the water surrounding the building, and the reality that we have been stricken by a massive Tsumani sinks in. I keep trembling, like a leaf in the wind, unsure how we will ever get out of this.

I don’t know if I’d flown into some fantasy fiction, but what I am inside has claws and fangs.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs and wish all this away. I want my sister back and want to wake up from this bad dream.

Chapter fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Imake my way to the rooftop, each step heavy with an internal tension that I try to conceal. Amber clings to my arm, her fingers digging into my skin as the sounds outside become increasingly ominous. The roaring of the tsunami echoes like a beast unleashed, and the tremors beneath our feet intensify. The world under us is tearing itself apart.

Amber’s voice, laden with fear and worry for Alex, is a constant presence, like a mantra of concern. “Is Alex safe? What’s happening to him out there? Derrick, I can’t bear the thought of something happening to him!”

I try to keep my voice steady, though the unease festers within me. “Amber, we need to stay strong. I’m sure Alex is safe, and we’ll find him as soon as we can.”

Around us, the chaos worsens, as if the world itself has turned against us. Objects collide, and the earth shudders with each monstrous wave. Amber’s words become frantic, a lament of fear and uncertainty. “How can we stay strong in this, Derrick? What hope can we hold onto when everything is falling apart? The buildings are crashing, will this building hold? I mean how do we know we're safe up here?"

I turn to her, my eyes locked onto hers as I muster all the conviction I can find. “Hope is all we have, Amber. It’s what keeps us going in times like this. We must believe that we’ll get through this, that Alex is safe, and that you’ll be reunited with him. It’s not even twenty minutes yet, and we're safe for now, We can’t lose hope now.”

But Amber’s frustration mounts, and she cries out in desperation. “What good is hope, Derrick, when it feels like the world is ending? I need to know that Alex is safe. I need answers. I need something real!”

I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, as if my embrace alone could shield her from the turmoil around us. Immediately, I place her as far from the edge of the roof as possible, her back to a wall. The noise around us grows deafening, the building groaning under the relentless force of nature. The beams creak, and I can feel the walls quivering. We’re trapped in a nightmare, a world collapsing around us.

Amber’s voice quivers, and her eyes fill with tears. “Derrick, please, tell me what’s happening. Is this the end?”

I lean ahead to listen to the noises under us, my mind calculating our chances of survival.

I can’t bring myself to answer her with words that echo her fears. Instead, I grip hold of her hand tighter and respond with a resolve that I hope will reassure her. “Amber, we don’t know what’s happening, but we’re going to make it through this. We’re going to find Alex. You have to believe me.”

The rooftop feels like our sanctuary in a world turned chaotic. For now, it’s the only place that provides a shred of safety. And within these walls, I hope I’d be able to do everything I can to keep Amber calm, to hold onto hope, and to assure not just her, but us.

I reach out to turn on the entrance door light as the day darkens. The bulb comes on with a weak light, dimly lighting the area around the door. The cool, concrete walls are painted a pale shade, lending a sense of space to the room. A series of support beams run along the ceiling, showcasing their robustness like vigilant sentinels. An old, heavy wooden door stands as the last defense between them and the chaos outside.

Racks and shelves line the walls, each bearing the weight of forgotten possessions, tools, and supplies, now cast into eerie silhouettes by the feeble rooftop lighting. Dust motes dance in the air, suspended in the dimness. I haven’t been up here in a while. Thank goodness it’s at least good enough to give us safety for some time.

In one corner, a collection of camping gear and emergency supplies is neatly arranged, a testament to my preparation for unforeseen events. Stacks of bottled water and non-perishable food items in a black navy seal duffle bag ready for crisis and serving as a lifeline in times of uncertainty.

Amber and I sit on the dimly lit rooftop floor, surrounded by the dirty water and debris, her petrified eyes fixed on the water, and the residual effects of the tsunami. I can sense the tension and unease hanging heavy in the air. Amber’s pallid face and quivering lips say it all; she’s scared, and that fear seems to be inching its way into her temper.

She spits out a terse demand, not minding my presence, her voice sharp. “Is there water?”

I rise, my footsteps echoing as I make my way toward where I had stored the supplies. I grab a bottle and bring it back to her. My expectation, however, falls flat as she snatches the bottle from my grasp without a hint of gratitude.

My patience, which was already wearing thin, gives way. “At least a thank you would do,” I mutter, my words laced with irritation.

Amber suddenly raises her head, her fury blazing in her eyes as she locks her gaze onto mine. The atmosphere up here grows even tenser. She opens her mouth and unleashes a torrent of accusations, her words carrying the weight of her emotions. “How can you be so inconsiderate, hard-hearted, and unsentimental,” she lashes out. “The world is falling apart, and all you can think of is receiving a thank you?”

I can’t let her words go unanswered. Frustration bubbles within me, and I retort, “The world is falling apart, yes, and you could have been falling apart with it, but someone rescues you, and the best you can come up with is anything but a thank you?”

Our voices escalate in a slightly heated exchange, each word holding a weight of its own as Amber’s hoarse voice stands above mine. The woman, once a stranger I welcomed into my home on a whim, now confronts me with a storm of frustration and discontent. I can’t help but notice the irony in the situation.

My remark takes a more sarcastic tone as I can’t help but give voice to my frustration. “It’s beautiful to see you act off-script, Amber. At least now, I know what you’re really like.”

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