Page 15 of Waves of Fury

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.

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