Ten
Amari
The rumbling at first sounded like thunder.
I twitched.
“Still afraid of storms.” Caden held me close.
Before I could speak, the rambling increased in volume, and a low vibration shook the shed.
From a distance, sirens sounded and one monitor blinked an alert. It was too far away for us to read.
Caden leaped to his feet. He ran to the screen.
“Oh shit.” He ran back to the bed and pulled on his pants.
“What’s happening?” I crawled up on my knees. My heart raced a mile a minute, and the vibration grew stronger.
“Get dressed.” Caden handed me my clothes. He ran to the back wall of the shed.
“Caden.”
He pulled some stuff off the wall and punched a code into a keypad I hadn’t noticed before.
The door’s seal broke, and it opened inward.
I scrambled off the bed and pulled on my shirt and my pants.
Caden came back and grabbed my boots.
“What is going on?”
“Avalanche.” He spoke the three-syllable word in a calm sing-song cadence.
I shook my head and blinked.
Caden continued gathering stuff—blankets, my sock, and boots.
My other sock had disappeared under the bed. Caden lay flat on his back and grabbed it along with a backpack. He threw them both in the corner near the open door.
Wherever the door led was dark.
“I need to put those on.” I sat back on the bed, my brain not able to get my body to respond. I knew we were in danger, and we needed to hurry, but how and where. From what I’d heard, you couldn’t outrun an avalanche. It would bury us alive in this little shed or out in the open. Neither choice sounded good.
“Mari.” Caden grabbed me by the shoulders. “We have to move. Now!”
When I didn’t respond, he bent over and grabbed me around the waist.
His fingers dug into my sides.
The rumbling grew louder. I covered my ears, but it made no difference.
The shed shook on its foundation.
Caden threw me over his shoulder, took two steps over the bed and through the open door.
My back scraped against the side.