Don't Talk To Me | BOOK 3

seven

Riley Murphy
2048

We took shelter under a broken ledge. There was a crawl space that we could fit our bodies into. Big enough to move around, small enough to keep anything out of.

There was a small crack in the top of the ledge that let us breathe fresh air.

We huddled in that spot.

I felt myself getting drowsy as Dakota nodded in and out of consciousness.

"My head hurts." She moaned, holding her head, "I know. I'm sorry."

My shoulder was in excruciating pain as I tried to ignore it.

I kept hearing blasts of glass that had exploded, the fire was out of control.

Shielding my eyes, I covered mine and Dakotas bodies as much as I could.

I must admit, having Dakotas body so close to mine, her arms wrapped around my waist is a nice feeling.

I don't want to let her go.

"Wait- listen." Dakota mumbled. I stayed quiet, trying to slow my breathing.

Silence.

"Why is it silent?" I whispered, peering around the corner.

For a split second, I swear I saw a shadow moving behind a car. But there was nothing out there but silence.

"Riley-" Dakotas hand gripped my shirt, "I know. Shhh."

Just as I had stood up to go check, my ears were blasted with a high pitched ringing noise, completely deafening me.

I was thrown back, my spine hitting the ground. I groaned and rolled onto my stomach.

But when I opened my eyes again, all I saw was darkness.

Panic filled my system, "Holy fuck am I dead?" I said to myself.

I heard a light chuckle and then a groan, "No you idiot. We're trapped."

I didn't register what she said until a few moments later, "Trapped? a what do you mean trapped?"

"I mean- the second explosion caused something to cover the hole. So basically; we're stuck here."

No fucking way.

"Dee-" I reached out for her but she was already next to me. "I know." She mumbled.

Sighing and laying my head on my hands, I felt the need to cry.

Let's just hope that they find us. Quickly.

* * *

"No I definitely think you should've checked the water before you swam in it."

I laughed at Dakotas worrying when I told her the story about the scar on my leg.

"Okay Mom, sorry." I said. She exhaled and I felt her hand grip mine harder.

There was silence. Not awkward, just silence.

I was sitting up now, leaning against the thing that trapped us in here. It feels like metal. Could be a car door.

I tried to kick it down but it feels like something is holding there.

"Do you think we'll make it out of here?"

I sighed, "Honestly Dee I'm not holding my breath. I'm not going to lie and say we will because if I'm honest I don't know."