DEFEATISM

26

Tempest wasn't sure what would happen when she finally went to bed. She was sure she would wrestle with the events of the day. She doesn't have enough hands to grapple the party that morning, the tunnels, the poisoning, the power outage, and Damien Arlington. It was too much for one day and one head, and her thoughts were always racing.

She fell asleep easily, but every brush of wind on the outside door made her shiver. Tempest was somewhere between sleep and consciousness, where she couldn't move, but she is sure if someone were in the room and they spoke to her, she'd hear every word. She just wished she could properly sleep.

Then she did. Then, she didn't. Something cold hits her nose and she shoots upright in bed, panting heavily. She can barely breathe, trying to race through her throat. She sits up. It's raining outside. She can't believe she left the window open. With the power outage, they were supposed to close them all. It's raining outside. Whatever parts of the road were melting are now surely turning into sleek ice. Tempest doubts they will be rescued today.

She reaches over to look at the time, and her alarm clock looks back at her. It's just past four in the morning. Rubbing her neck, Tempest switches from side to side.

Darlington isn't here. She didn't invite him back and he didn't ask. She wonders if he's sleeping or still clutching that damn walkie.

Tempest resigns herself to getting up, at least if just to check on him. She has another candle she can light.

She shifts her feet on to the ground and a shock runs through her entire body. She peels away, the skin burning. Her floor is frigid, her toes wet, and she realizes her window isn't open.

Tempest stands up, trying to breathe. She uses her hands to pull across the wall. Balancing on her bed, she leans over and opens her blinds. It's overcast, and cloudy, but there is just enough light to see her floor. The water is nearly ankle-deep, she guesses. It's dripping down, mostly on the walls but some by her door, which might be why she only just noticed it.

She grabs her desk chair while standing on her bed, moving it toward her door. She hops into it, quickly throwing on clothes for the day since she'd rather not run around in her pajamas. Choosing her rain gear, boots and coat, is calculated. Her winter coat is water resistant, and she'd rather not be soaked in something heavy. Whatever she's going to be moving, she'll do so slower in her rainboots than her snowboots or running shoes, but her feet will stay dry at least.

Tempest heads out of her bedroom. The hallway is pitch black. Residence halls are known for thin walls, but as she steps out, she realizes how loud the sound of the rain coming down is. It's ambient. She pulls up her hood since it's going to soak her hair. The hallway is pitch black. In the wet, a candle won't do.

She finds her way to the wall, creeping toward the stairwell. It's moving blind, terrible, but at least she can be pretty sure she won't be electrocuted in the water. She can feel her teeth chattering.

"Maverick!" she shouts his name, unsure if it's even as loud as it would be normally if she screamed.

Tempest makes it to the stairwell. In the dark, she makes her way up the stairs to the next floor. It's a struggle, but she manages to find the door. Breathing in, she enters the fifth floor.

There isn't rain, but she can hear water gushing, muffled, from somewhere down the hall. It must be one of the bathrooms. Tempest struggles to get closer and closer. The water is slightly lower up here, but is still at least two inches deep. In her head, she counts each door she passes. Benedict is above her, and all the floors besides the first have the same layout. She counts carefully until she gets to Benedict's room.