Chapter one: Circular Formation
May 29th, 20XX (three years concluding the death of Kira)
"Your evacuation plan for your family should include at least two possible escape routes (in nearly opposite directions) and each route should have a planned destination. Study a good map of your area and learn all the back roads and short-cuts. Take some practice runs and imagine that there are many other cars leaving the city at the same time - ask yourself which route might be the best in that situation. Make sure you are aware of your city's or community's emergency alert system besides an audible siren or alarm there should be an emergency broadcast system set up (radio stations) and emergency telephone numbers."
How to Plan an Escape Route
Boredom is caused by lack of stimulation to the brain, most often occurring through countless acts of repetition. Slowing the brain, most find themselves with a lack of response to stimuli an innate uninterest of immediate surroundings. Physical labor might form a type of ennui, falling into tedium. Thus, a dull ache resonated through my arms, my grip straining to keep hold of the grocery bags, the lack of stimuli failing to distract me from the stinging of my muscles.
Still a number of blocks from my home, my muscles, screaming, demanded a need for rest. With a hiss, I gently set the groceries on the sidewalk, my stiff fingers, releasing the plastic, prickled as blood recirculated through my veins.
Now free, the bags rattled harshly, chorusing with the cacophonous clattering of leaves and the animalistic howling of the wind. The air smelled of dust and rain. Hanging clouds layered the sky, darkening a normally bright afternoon to an unnatural dusk. Thick and full, the clouds seemed as if they would, at any moment, unleash a torrent of water from their clutches to drown anyone foolish enough to be out and about.
I groaned. My situation, despite my break, had remained unchanged. My stomach churned as I realized, suddenly, that the storm seemed all the more closer, becoming increasingly ominous.
Shit.
I grabbed the bags, jerking them from their spot on the ground as cool droplets fell onto my skin, a vague warning to the inevitable. Mere moments later, the sky opened up, letting loose a deluge of water.
I hurtled through the streets, not bothering to only keep to the sidewalk. My heart hammered in my chest. The wind threw the water into my face with blinding force and a high pitched wail rose above the howling wind and thunderous rain; THE TORNADO SIREN. My heart froze as the sound raked through my ears. I immediately contemplated abandoning the groceries and rushing the rest of the way home before realizing the unrealisticness of the plan.
The wind whipped around me, tearing at my clothes as I hurtled down an alley, searching for a door to a basement. The thin road of twin brick served as a shield the cutting air. I crossed a street and into another alley, desperately wishing for a shelter from the storm. Frustrated, I didn't find a basement in this one either. I ran through the street again, exiting the alley.
The roaring vibrated through the air, sending an earthquake through my core. In a last ditch effort, I burst through the doors of the next office building.
The waiting room was a stark contrast to the hell outside. While the roaring was still prevalent, it was dulled by the thickness of the building's glass and brick. The decor was plain, white with no accents, and immaculately neat - no cushion or pencil seemed to be out of place. It felt wrong to standing in the pristine room, soaking and disheveled.
I tore through the waiting room, a river of water following my path. A side door indicated to "wait for receptionist to walk you in". I tried the door, desperately trying to yank it open with my wet hands. I hit the door, yelling, "help!" My pleas went unanswered. In a desperate attempt, I tossed my grocery bags to the counter and clamoured over, soiling the paper on the receptionists' desk, tracking black residue from the asphalt and leaving an imprint of my shoes. I grabbed my bags and opened the door to the side hallway. The hallway was equally white, the floor paved in gray tile.
My shoes squeaked as I ran, searching for a door to a basement or a bathroom. "Anyone here?" I yell periodically. The doors were were lacquered with black, their silver handles locked and unyielding to my desperate attempts to search behind them.
"Here!" A masculine voice finally answers my calls as I turned a corner. I saw him farther down holding open a door. "Hurry!" I ran to the door and ducked under his arm into the dusky landing of a staircase, panting.
The man shakes as he pulls the door shut, dead bolting it to the frame. He turns, nodding his head before making his way down the stairs, a white knuckled hand using the steel handrail as support. I follow him, my eyes trying to adjust to the darker surroundings. Moments later we stood in a dark basement. The smart scent of sanitizer and paint permeated the room. A single light bulb hung in the middle of the ceiling, a long cord dangling from it. Shelves of plastic tubs lined the walls, several chairs were placed sporadically. In the corner, a thin bed hugs the wall, sheets as blindingly white as the wall it sits against.
A boy sat, his clothing and hair embraced in the same white as if he had meant to match with the theme of the room.. Before him laid a puzzle, pieces lying everywhere. He moved in a rhythm, fluidly placing each piece in line one after another.
"You can set your stuff anywhere," the man was wringing his hands, his face contorted in worry.
I sat my groceries next to one of the chairs, my fingers stiffly unclasping the plastic. I hissed as I flexed them, silently hoping to help blood circulation move through my veins. As blood returned to my hands I glanced up to the ceiling, straining my ears to hear anything through layers of building. While I heard nothing but the sound of the nervous man next to me breath sporadically, I couldn't help but feel a something settle in me, something un-normal and uneasy.
"Perhaps we should get underneath the bed," the nervous man says, his forehead glistening in sweat. He quickly strides over, bending down before shimmying underneath. "There's enough room for all of us, come on Near!" He moves over, rolling onto his side before curling into a ball, his hand covering his head.
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Gevanni." The boy's voice was light and feminine and his words words were muffled, as if he were muttering under his breath. He glanced over to the poor man underneath the bed before returning his attention to his puzzle, his shoulders rising slightly in a noticeably visible sigh. It seemed the boy seemed content to allow his companion to wallow away in fear underneath the bed.
Slightly annoyed at the boy for his lack of concern for his companion I crossed the room and bent down to kneel next to the bed frame. "Mr. Gevanni?" I called out, using the name the boy had used for him. "My name is Madison Rowe!" I smiled to his quivering back, waiting a moment to see if he'd turn around to introduce himself as well. After it was obvious that he wouldn't I continued, sifting so I sat on the ground fully, the tiles cool on my bareness of my thighs. "Hey, it'll be okay. The kinds of storms are no big deal. They'll blow the sirens for every little thing! I bet the worst has already passed u-"
The room pitched violently, the light on the ceiling swung like it was a pathetic string and ball attached to a kodama. I braced myself against the bed and the wall, spreading my feet to gain some semblance of balance. "Fuck!"