Norah woke up wet, sputtering water, and with a migraine so terrible that it was painful to think.
She heard the quiet drips of water before she opened her eyes to find…nothing. Pitch black darkness. She tried opening them again, thinking her lids were still closed, only to find more darkness.
She reached up and touched her eyes.They’re open.
The dark room shuddered and groaned, shaking the silence away and making the water splash over her wrinkled skin. Somewhere beyond her immediate perception, a terrible shriek arose.
Norah scurried to her feet, groping for her pistol. Not finding it, she backed away until she hit the wall on the opposite side of the room.
Everything came back to her as thunder, unlike any she had ever heard, roared through the dark space.
She slipped down the wall and covered her head as the laboratory fell apart around her. Unpacked beakers tumbled out of the cabinets, shattering; lab benches and chairs shook, and everything not bolted down joined her on the wet ground.
Norah didn’t move until she was sure it was over.
Slowly, she lifted her hands away from her head and bunched them into fists, pressing them into her eyes as her body tensed in fear. Her pants, her shoes, her butt were all soaked with water that grew more foul by the second.
When nothing slithered through the darkness to eat her and when the roof didn’t cave in on her head, reason came back. And clarity came with it.
“Robert?” she whispered, so low, so softly that she barely heard her own voice. “Robert?” she called out again.
No answer.
“Robert?” Her voice sounded like the cry of an injured animal.
She found the strength to move, knowing her fellow scientist could be in need of help.
The storm outside continued to bear down around the small outpost, but the thunder sounded farther off now. It was a short-lived relief.
It was then she realized that the sirens had stopped and so had the sprinkler system. She grasped for her wrist-con already knowing it wasn’t there but her fingers wrapped over her forearm anyway and squeezed.
How long have I been out?
Norah let go of herself and crawled toward the door, moving her arms around through the water to orient her location. She found her fallen gun and placed it back onto her hip. Her hands found Robert’s unmoving mass next.
She ran her palms over him. “Robert? Please wake up...”
No movement, not even a breath. He was on his belly, and a new panic rose up from the pit of her stomach to burn her throat and replace the stale taste in her mouth with acid.
His face was submerged in the water.
The tears she had successfully held back now formed in her eyes. “Robert?” her voice rose. She gripped his body and hauled him over, struggling with his sodden weight. “Please wake up. Please!”
Norah lifted herself over him and opened his mouth, performing CPR with the hurried desperation of an amateur. “Wake up, damn it!” She pumped his chest and sealed her lips over his again and again until seconds turned into minutes; until she realized that she was doing nothing more than kissing a corpse.
He’s dead. He can’t be dead. He has to get back to Lindsey.Norah laid her head on his torso and prayed for a heartbeat that never came.
The downpour settled before she lifted away.
Hours could have gone by. She didn’t know. Norah moved away from Robert’s body, uncertain what stage of decay he was in. She found his gun lying next to him and made it her own, placing it in the waist of her pants.
He’s dead.
The thought repeated in her head with numb reality.
She clambered around Robert’s body and crawled to the door, pressing her ear against its barrier. Her whole body strained as she listened for any movement beyond.
A chill crept up her spine.
