𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 | an apocalyptic novel ©

Chapter 101

Brilliant Ideas

2035

Aidan

We could drown. We could die.

And I am making sure that she knows what she means to me. No words, no action can express it.

For once, I feel like the fuse that has been sizzling between us has turned into sparks.

My eyes fly open.

I don't know for how long we have been staying like this.

Blinking, I pull away and clear my voice, trying to focus on the water on the ground, because else I'd lose my sanity in her presence completely. Although, that is quite challenging. I can't just pretend that what happened only seconds ago didn't happen.

"What will we do?" Valencia's voice is hesitant. We need to focus on the real issue here. Logical thinking, not emotional thinking. We won't drown. We have to make it.

Can we leave? Think, Aidan, fucking think.

The gears start to turn, and I remember one last thing – an option, if not only a faint one, but we have to give it a shot, as surreal as it sounds.

"You were right, we have to leave." With that, I grab Valencia's hand and pull her with me toward the ladder. I take the lead and climb up the rungs until I reach the leaking hatch.

It has a wheel to twist to open, I turn it and push it open, causing the clothes and fabric Valencia stuffed into the seal to stop the leak to drop. Doing so means that all the water that has been dripping down into the bunker is now dripping down again, on us both clinging to the ladder. And it doesn't stop. When I climb out of the shaft first and stand in the also flooded area of my upstairs shelter, I spot the issue. I don't know how much water is outside, but telling from how much is flooding my home, it must be a lot - three inches, everything I own has disappeared under the surface. The only things still peeking out are my kitchen counter and the table. I grimace. It's a similar image as I saw when the first flood I ever experienced hit, when I was seventeen. Outside though, not inside. Why is water here, inside? Did the seal give up? Or did I just not lock the door like last time?

"Oh my Fuck," Valencia mumbles next to me as she fishes something out of the water and holds up my now soaked and wet Korean book.

Oh, my fuck is right.

I wade through the water until I reach the window.

The low-hanging gray clouds we spotted earlier are pouring down with all their might, flooding the streets and vicinity with three inches of water. The hurricane is gone or never existed.

My mind races on what we should do.

I think back to my last choice of a plan - a brilliant, stupid, ill-conceived, suicidal idea.

Weather fronts usually only hit the Bronx this badly. What if we just... escape it then? Could we outrun a weather anomaly?

I climb the ladder back down and look for the jerrycan I always keep next to the generator.

"I have a brilliant idea," I tell Valencia after I climb back up.