It’s quiet.
End-of-the-world, humanity-wiped-out quiet.
No rain, no wind.
Even the clouds have disappeared.
“Oh my god,” I whisper.
Now that I can see, the damage is insurmountable. It looks like a bomb went off and wiped out half the block. Trees are down. Thirty-foot palms and three-hundred-year-old oaks lie like matches on the ground, snapped in two. The gas station across the road has crumbled, leaving nothing but the remains of its foundation. The main road is flooded, the water inching closer to our building, and a car is upturned in a ditch on the right.
“I’ve chased a lot of hurricanes.” Sebastian pulls me to him, my back flush against his front, and his arm folds over the top of my chest. “But I’ve never been directly in the eye. It’s …”
“Mesmerizing,” I finish for him. “It’s cruel how something so destructive can be so alarmingly peaceful. God, it’s beautiful. Haunting, but beautiful. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” he says. I turn my chin, glancing at him. He’s not looking at anything but me. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I suck in a sharp breath knowing he’s not talking about the storm. Not anymore.
Only me.
You care about him, too, the tiny voice whispers, and I step away, trying to grapple with the understanding.
“Watch out for wires,” Sebastian calls out. “The rain could start back any minute.”
I heed his warning and forge ahead, careful when I maneuver over to the palm tree in front of our room. It’s still standing, our cameras intact, and the footage is going to be unbelievable.
“How long do you think we have?” I ask.
“The eye wall is eight miles wide. Georgianna is moving at eighteen miles an hour, so twenty-seven minutes before the eye passesover us. We lost ten minutes already, so we only have about ten more before we need to head back.”
“This is—”
“Unreal.” Sebastian pulls out his phone, videoing the area around us. He makes a couple comments about our location, noting the current conditions. “Apocalyptic shit. My producers are going to lose their minds.”
“I’m glad other people aren’t outside.” I try to see what’s happening up the road, but a clap of thunder booms overhead, distracting me. “That’s odd. You don’t get this much lightning in the eye.”
“I think we can agree this is not a normal hurricane. It has a mind of its own. Following almost the exact same path as Charley and repeating history.”
“Same small, compact eye. Same fast-forward movement. It’s like it copy and pasted itself.”
“Water is getting high.” He points to the street submerged under a rush of waves. The rain picks back up, fat drops falling on us, and we might’ve misjudged how much time we had. “We should start to head back inside.”
“But we’ve only—”
“Quincy.” My name is ripe with warning. “Inside. Now.”
“Okay. Just one more—”
A tree branch above us snaps. I scream and cover my head just as Sebastian pushes me out of the way. I tumble into the mud, rolling three times before coming to a stop on my stomach. I jump to my feet, checking myself for injuries and finding none.
“This is why we’re going inside,” he grunts. There’s a scratch on his arm, blood trailing down his bicep. Another on his cheek and a clump of leaves in his hair. His eyes rake over me, an exhale leaving when he sees I’m unharmed. “Right fucking now. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Areyouokay? Did the branch hit you?”
“Just a graze.” He plucks a leaf from my hair. “Standing near a tree wasn’t my brightest idea.”
“I contributed. I’ll take half the blame.”
