Page 17 of Waves of Fury

“I’ve got you,” Tyler hisses, pulling with all his might. “This tip better be really fucking good.”

I bark out a hysterical laugh. It’s better than blacking out in terror.

“Is thirty percent not the standard when someone brings you a cold, now-wet sandwich but saves your life instead?”

He grunts, not bothering to answer, and drags me back into my office with a splash. Another wave tries to pull me back out, but he finds purchase and drags me away from the window. The building appears to be leaning. One corner of my office isn’t dry per se, but isn’t knee deep in water. He pulls us over to the corner, both of us stumbling and falling into a heap of exhaustion.

It takes only seconds for me to realize I’m half on top of this stranger, gasping for air like I may not ever get it again. He’s trembling so hard I have the urge to hug him to me to make him stop.

Despite being completely exhausted from my near escape of death, I manage to sit up and put my back against the wall. My eyes travel to the windows—or where they once were—and I survey the damage.

I’ve never in my forty years seen anything like it.

San Francisco is completely flooded.

Thankfully, the massive monster wave is gone, but the water continues to rush around the building, not receding any more than the bottom of the top floor.

I can’t hear anything beyond my office aside from the gushing water, creaking of the building, and occasional earth rumblings. Did my staff perish in the wave onslaught?

The floor below us never had a chance. If, for some reason, they managed to hit the stairwell and head up here, they might’ve survived, but considering the lack of voices, it’s doubtful.

Frannie.

I force myself not to think of what’s happened to her. I won’t mourn her until I see her body. Until then, I’ll believe she’s fine. I need something to believe in right now.

“What do we do now?” Tyler asks, voice quavering slightly.

I wish I were like my father in this moment, or even Knox. I wish I could look this kid straight in the eyes and lay out a plan to rescue him from this madness. I wish for a damn boat while I’m wishing.

Of course, none of that comes to pass.

“I don’t know,” I admit with a strained grunt, the stress of our situation finally crashing into me with the weight of a thousand tons. “I don’t fucking know.”

Tyler

They’re gone.

There’s no way the Angler-traz could survive that monstrous mutation the sea has become. The boat would have capsized or the waves swallowed it. Aaron is a good captain, but he’s not that good. He’s not invincible.

Pain lances in my chest, carving out a hole where my heart once was. My brothers—the only family I have—are dead and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I should have been there with them. I almost was. Instead, an elevator held me captive and miraculously got caught up arguing with Kellen. Had those things not happened, it’s definite that I’d be floating through the city, nothing but fish food.

At least I’d be with my brothers.

Someone wails in the distance, dragging me from my own self-pity. It’s not Kellen. He’s staring at the water lapping at our shoes, eyes wide with terror.

“Help,” the woman cries out. “Someone please help.”

Again, I wait for Kellen—clearly the boss of everyone here—to snap into action. He doesn’t flinch. I’m pretty sure he’s in shock. I sure as hell am.

We can’t just sit here and do nothing, though.

Aaron, and even Jesse, wouldn’t sit around, waiting for help. No, they’d snap into action to help people. If anything, I can honor my brothers by being like them.

“Hold my bag,” I croak out, slipping my backpack off my shoulders. “Do not drop it into the water.”

My harsh instruction has Kellen flinching. He eyes me warily but takes the bag, gripping the straps tight as he pulls it to him. Once I’m sure he’s not going to lose it—both the backpack and his mind—I scurry across the drenched carpet toward the area I believe was the doorway.

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