So I'm trying to get into the habit of updating every other Friday, we'll see how that works out ;D
Quick advertisement: I'm doing a quick little Christmas story involving MCR, Ev, Para, LP, Flyleaf and VersaEmerge-check it out, it's on my profile x)
Thank you for all your kind reviews, I'm glad everyone likes it 3
Here's the chapter!
CHAPTER 4: RAIN CLOUDS COME TO PLAY AGAIN
The Bennington Residence, Westchester, Los Angeles, California
3:29 PM
Chester woke to a soft rustling noise next to him. He rubbed his eyes blearily.
On the other side of the couch, Amy sat brushing her long hair carefully. She was humming a familiar tune under her breath, and Chester realized it was the song he had written that morning.
He coughed, and Amy twisted around quickly. "Oh, I didn't mean to wake you up!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry!"
"It's fine," he replied, reaching for his cell phone to check the time. "Whoa, when did it get so late?"
"We slept for a while," Amy giggled. She set down her hairbrush and stood up, revealing that she'd changed into a clean pair of jeans and one of Chester's plaid button-downs. Her stomach grumbled, and she laughed again.
"Jesus, we haven't eaten in twenty-four hours!" Chester muttered under his breath. He, too, rose from the couch and shuddered at the sudden chill in the air. It had cooled down quite a lot since last night and he was still only wearing a pair of boxers.
"But we don't have food," Amy replied, confused.
"Yes, we do!" Chester said. "Last night, while you were asleep"—
Amy gasped. "You didn't go up, did you, Chester?" Her eyes widened in shock.
"Well, yes," he admitted. "But I was fine…"
She bit her lip, staring at him tensely. "Was there…was there fire?"
"Not here," he said truthfully.
Amy relaxed and kissed his cheek quickly, then turned back to the bag of supplies and began to rummage for food. "Check the TV," she called out. "Maybe there's something on about what's happening."
Obediently, Chester turned on the device. There was one channel working, and it showed a lone news reporter standing outside. "Well, folks, I'm still holding on up here in San Fran," he said. "I'm being told this is the only channel still working in California. It's not safe to leave shelter yet. We're not sure what's happening now, but I'll keep you updated till it all blows over—or until the apocalypse gets me, too."
Chester frowned and turned off the TV again, picking up his guitar instead. Amy returned with a bag of chips and a handful of granola bars.
"So that's why you really went back up," she observed.
"Yeah," he replied absently, picking out a chord, then another. He began to strum quietly.
"Were you playing last night?" Amy questioned softly.
He nodded. "You heard that?"
"In a dream," she murmured. "I wasn't sure if it was real."
Chester's response was to strum the introduction he had improvised. "I wrote it for you," he whispered, before beginning to strum.
Give me a smile, give me your name, girl
Give me a sign, to guide my way
And get what I came for you,
Cause you don't come easy
Chester closed his eyes, letting his feelings overtake him. He felt only the smooth strings under his fingertips and the soft weight of Amy's head on his shoulder. He heard only her quiet breath and the music that filled the open space.
Give me a smile, give me your name, girl
Let them know that you're mine
And I'll do the same for you
Cause our love comes easy
This whole ordeal was almost worth it, just so this moment could exist.
Chester began on the bridge, letting his fingers fly across the fretboard. Beside him, Amy's eyes had slid closed, but the biggest, most beautiful smile had taken over her face. For a moment, the boy was struck breathless by her beauty.
And I fall into the ocean
Inside of your eyes
Taking me deeper
Giving me new life
Chester neared the end of the song, finally finishing by murmuring "you're my whole life." He looked at Amy, his eyes shining. "I love you, Amy Lynn Lee," he whispered passionately, almost angrily. "I love you more than anything else in this world."
"And I love you, Chester Charles Bennington," she whispered back. The words were nearly made indistinguishable by the small sob she let out halfway through his name. With tears rolling down both their cheeks silently, their lips crashed together and somehow they knew that as long as they had each other…everything would be alright.
Somewhere off the Coast of California
7:46 AM
Terry could now see why the girl had been right to panic.
The flaming ship was split in half down the middle, both portions almost completely submerged underwater. There was a loud, continuous wail emanating from it—the screams of a thousand dying people.
He didn't dare get any closer to the wreck. There were burning pieces of debris falling from the frame, and if one landed in his boat, well, he was sunk. Literally and figuratively.
Terry was torn. He wanted to help desperately, but there was no way he could rescue anyone from the actual ship. He had sent out multiple calls for help with his radio, but there had been no response. The only way it seemed as if he could do anything was to sit there and to pick over the remains for survivors.
It was the most gruesome thing Terry had ever seen. He couldn't see close details from this distance, but he could see the flaming objects that fell from the ship routinely, flailing as they dropped. He had long ago realized that they were human bodies hoping that the waves would quench the fire.
There was no one else on the ocean. No coast guard, no rescue ships, not even another small craft like his. He alone had the power to save these peoples' lives…and yet he was powerless.
Somewhere off the Coast of California
7:15 AM
The water hit Lacey like a slap to the face—a freezing, cement-hard slap that reverberated against her entire body. She plunged deep under the waves, her short hair tangling around her face and the salt stinging her eyes painfully.
Her chest began to ache from the lack of air, and she frantically kicked out against the water, clawing her way upwards. Her head felt light.
Just a bit farther, she begged herself. Just to the surface…
At the very moment her tired arms gave out, her head broke through the top of the water and into clean, salty air. She gasped it in gratefully, heaving saltwater from her lungs back into the ocean.
Her fingertips made contact with something floating beside her. She wrapped her arms around it, realizing it was a surfboard from the simulation wave pool aboard the ship, and hung on for her life.
Lacey had no idea how long she drifted there, in the icy surf, with her family burning behind her. It might have been seconds, or it might have been hours. But somewhere inside her, hidden reserves of energy rose to the surface, giving her the power to keep holding on.
Slowly, she became aware of a low, constant buzz. It stirred a distant memory in her mind: the roar of her grandfather's motorboat as she sat in the prow, wind caressing her face…
Her grandfather's motorboat…
"A motorboat!" she gasped. She coughed, her throat stinging from the saltwater she had ingested, but all the same, forced herself to shout out.
The buzz grew louder.
8:02 AM
Was that a yell?
Terry could swear that there was a sound from somewhere out by the wreck. The last tip of it has sunk below the surface only a moment before.
Without any debate, he gunned the engine, zooming towards the sound of the shout.
8:03 AM
It was definitely a motorboat. Lacey could see it now, far away but coming closer ever second.
She cried out again, lifting an arm to wave above her head. The sudden action almost made her lose her grip on the slick surfboard, and she quickly slammed her arm back down.
But the boat had definitely seen her.
8:03 AM
The small figure waved its' arm once, and then put it back down. Terry sped towards it, sending up a massive wake behind his boat.
8:04 AM
The boat pulled up alongside her, and a tall man rose from the drivers' seat. His long dreadlocks were tied back in a ponytail, and he looked downright intimidating standing there. But Lacey didn't care.
"Hi," she gasped out, raising a hand feebly to wave.
"Hi," he responded, chuckling. He cut the engine and walked to the back of the boat, where he grasped Lacey's lower torso and lifted her up and onto the leather seat at the back. "I'm Terry Balsamo."
"Lacey Mosley," she replied, shaking his hand. "I owe you my life."
Dead Pegasus Gas Station, Mojave Desert
10:28 AM
"Jesus…" Phoenix moved a hand to his stomach and burped loudly.
"Ew, Phi…gross…" Rob groaned languidly. He was collapsed against the checkout counter, surrounded by wrappers.
Nearby, Mike lay sprawled on the tiled ground. "I haven't eaten like that since…well…since we moved in and started the band," he confessed to the others.
"Neither have I, dude," Brad agreed, patting his stomach contentedly. "In fact, I think we ate too much…"
Joe was the only one who had remained standing, although he was leaning against the counter. "We should really get up and move…guys…" he said. "What if there is a store owner, and he comes back and finds us here?"
"Good point…" Rob agreed, squinting up at Joe. "How 'bout you go stick some food in the car while we get our shit together?"
"Seriously?" Joe threw up his hands angrily.
Mike moaned and pushed himself off the floor, picking himself up slowly. "C'mon, Rob," he grunted, tugging the other man to his feet. "It was your idea!"
"But I don't wanna…" Rob whined. All the same, he allowed himself to be pulled up and grabbed an armful of junk.
"Where are we going now?" Mike questioned the other two. "I'll drive, I just need to know where to…"
"There isn't much out here," Joe laughed bitterly. "We just need some form of shelter to wait out the disaster in."
"A motel," Rob supplied.
"Yes, like a motel," Joe continued, "but somewhere in the desert…"
"No, I mean there's a sign for a motel!"
"Huh?" Mike hadn't noticed the small road sign on the way in, but sure enough, it pointed down the road to a squat building far in the distance.
"Yeah, and suppose that one's deserted, too," Joe argued.
Mike shrugged passively. "Hey, it's at least worth a try, don't you think?"
So as soon as the convenience store was virtually empty of almost everything useful and Phoenix and Brad had been coaxed into the car, they set off towards the distant hope of shelter.
It was farther than it had seemed. It took almost half an hour for them to reach the small Motel 8 on the side of the desert highway. But they finally pulled into the empty parking lot, a neon sign blinking 'vacancy' standing proudly over their heads.
"Are you sure it's safe?" Brad asked, peering out at the sign with his eyes shaded.
"I dunno, man," Mike said softly, "but it's all we've got."
Mount Lee, Santa Monica Mountains, Los Angeles
6:07 PM
The rain started at exactly six o'clock that night.
Frank remembered the exact time. He had been staring at his watch morosely, counting down the seconds till the end of the day, when something wet had hit his nose. It stung.
He had glanced up at the sky, holding a hand up to shield his hand, when another raindrop fell into his palm. He lowered t to find a perfectly round pink wound burned into the skin.
"Shit," he muttered. "That doesn't look good."
That was when Gerard, who was too full of nervous energy and had gone to explore the hill, had called out that he had found a cave. The four had hardly made it into the rocky, dry area before the sky really opened up.
Gerard shivered against Frank's side. Next to them, Mikey and Ray huddled underneath the other blanket. The air temperature had plummeted with the downpour, plus all of them were damp from the burning rain.
"What is that stuff?" Mikey murmured. He watched a small green plant outside the edge of the cave wither and turn brown as the rain battered it.
Frank shook his head. "Whatever it is, we better hope it ends soon."
"I'm cold," Gerard whispered faintly. He shifted closer to Frank, shuddering slightly.
"We all are," Frank replied. "Relax, it'll be over soon…"
Slowly, Gerard's breathing slowed and Frank realized he was asleep. Ray and Mikey, too, had passed out under their blanket. Ray was snoring quietly.
"Thanks, guys," Frank muttered under his breath. He didn't really mind—his position, with Gerard's arms wrapped around his waist and his head in his lap, was actually quite comfortable.
He absently stroked his fingers through Gerard's soft black hair, staring out into the rain. He could feel his best friend's warm breath against his leg.
Frank sighed and resigned himself to a night of staying awake to keep his now-only family safe.
A Deserted Warehouse, the Mojave Desert
6:21 PM
"God damn tin roof," Tré muttered, staring up at the ceiling. The din of the rain on the metal was deafening.
Mike looked up from where he was laying on his sleeping bag, reading a book. "Try headphones," he suggested.
"Already tried it," Tré growled.
"What about the CD player?" Billie called. "It's out in the car."
"Fine." Tré pushed open the doors and his jaw dropped. "Shit. Holy fucking shit. You guys…"
"What?" Billie asked.
"You better come see this."
Mike dropped his book and joined Billie and Tré near the door. "Motherfucking…"
Their car was falling apart. The metal frame barely remained intact, and the seats were full of holes where the rain had eaten through the upholstery.
"This fucking weather!" Billie cursed. "As if we haven't had enough already?"
The three stood in the doorway, staring hard at the car as if willing it to fix itself. But it continued to rust away before their eyes.
"How are we gonna get home?" Mike asked suddenly.
Billie gritted his teeth. "We aren't. Not on our own, at least," he bit out.
"Oh, that's just fucking fabulous! Perfect!" Tré threw his hands up angrily, storming back into the warehouse where he flopped onto his mattress, ignoring the other two.
"We're stuck here. I can't believe it," Mike muttered. "And with only two months' worth of food. Billie, you've always got a plan—what do we do?" He turned to his friend, his blue eyes searching his face hopefully. "Billie?"
But Billie could only shake his head. Because this time, for the first time in his life, Billie didn't have a plan.
McDonald's, Outer Suburban Beverly Hills
6:33 PM
Taylor, Hayley and Jeremy silently watched the rain sheeting down from the safety of a fast-food restaurant. At about four o'clock, they had realized that no one else was coming out of the school. They had walked the four miles into town in two hours. Hayley had ended up on Jeremy's back, piggy-back style, about halfway through the hike. She had been holding on admirably, biting her tongue so that her small whimpers of pain due to her injured leg couldn't be heard by the others. If they could be this brave, well, so could she.
But eventually, Jeremy had noticed. Hayley had initially been shocked by his offer that he carry her, but she soon realized that it was more than a suggestion. They had to protect each other now…after all, the only things they had left were each other.
It had begun to rain fifteen minutes after they arrived in town. They had ducked into a nearby McDonald's not a moment too soon. They had watched, shocked and disgusted, as people were caught in the downpour and literally began to dissolve away before their eyes.
None of them had really been hungry after that.
As a way of thanks, Hayley had bought them all large cups of coffee. It was tasteless, but at least it warmed their hands.
"What should we do once it's over?" Taylor finally voiced the question that all of them had been wondering in their heads.
"It depends," Jeremy said carefully.
"Depends on what?" Hayley asked.
"If our families are still alive or not."
His statement was met with silence. Hayley gaped. She hadn't even thought of that before—her only plans were of how to get home.
"We could try…calling," Taylor suggested.
Hayley perked up again. "My mother always keeps her cell phone on. She'll answer it. She'll come get us. We can all live at my house!"
"Hayley…" warned Jeremy. But Hayley had already pulled out her expensive cell and was dialing her mother's phone number.
The two boys watched as the young girl's facial expression changed from excitement, to confusion, to worry and finally to pure, unadulterated horror. She punched the off button violently and set the phone on the table with shaking hands. Her face was white.
"The number…is unavailable," she whispered. "That doesn't make sense. Her number is always available. Even when it's turned off."
Taylor put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off and put her head on the table, her red hair flaring across the surface. Her tiny frame began to shake silently.
Their situation had just become a lot more real.
The Bennington Residence, Westchester, Los Angeles, California
6:46 PM
"Stay inside. I repeat, find shelter and stay inside at all costs. There is literally acid rain outside, and it will kill you. I'm not exaggerating."
Chester and Amy stared mutely at the radio. Above them, the rain pounded on the solid concrete, and wet dripping sounds reverberated through the room.
"I'll be here with you until it's safe to go out again—believe me, I won't be going outside anytime soon, either!" The announcer gave a small, mirthless laugh. "Based on estimates and reports from other states and countries, there has been a total of three and a half billion casualties that we know of."
Amy let out a tiny, high-pitched squeal. Chester blinked, sure he had misheard the announcer. The population of the world couldn't have halved in twenty-four hours…it was impossible, that many people couldn't have died!
"Yes, folks, three point five billion. You heard me right. This includes the 250 million from the USA and the 3 million from Los Angeles alone. And these are approximate numbers. No one knows the actual amount of deaths so far, communication is terrible and more connections are lost every minute. But for now, let's just hope it's only three and a half billion."
"Three million in LA alone!" Amy seized on the slightly more manageable number, only a fraction of the total death that had been brought on by the past day's catastrophes. "Three million, Chaz—that probably includes our families!"
Chester's face had hardened into a stoic expression, and wordlessly, he reached over and flipped off the radio. "Ignore it for now, Ames," he said softly.
"But Chester…three million people!"
"Forget it, Amy," he said more forcefully. Amy shrank back, frowning.
Chester, noticing his girlfriend's sudden discomfort, softened. He reached out for her cautiously. "Let's not worry," he whispered in her ear. "We've got each other, and that's what's important."
Slowly, she nodded and accepted his embrace, nuzzling her face into his neck. He held her tightly as they lay back down.
"Love you, Ames," he whispered. The phrase was still so unfamiliar to him. He delighted in repeating it, getting used to the words, feeling exactly how much he meant them each time he said it.
"Love you too, Chaz," Amy whispered back, pressing a delicate kiss to his neck. The small movement sent bolts of feeling through Chester's body. His heart swelled with love for the girl lying in his arms.
In that moment, they could almost forget about the world around them. In that moment, everything was perfect.
Terry's House, the Edge of California
8:38 AM
In the rearview mirror, Terry observed the girl huddled in the backseat of the boat, swathed in towels and blankets. She was young—he would estimate about seventeen at most—and small, with big brown eyes and short, wavy brown hair. She looked like a drowned rat at the moment.
She hadn't said a word since thanking him, instead sitting in silence. The only noise she made was the chattering of her teeth.
Terry never had been a talkative person to start with, and so, faced with this unfamiliar young girl, he completely clammed up. The only times he had spoken were to tell her that they were almost home and to ask if she needed anything, to which she would always mutely shake her head.
"We're home," he announced, pulling the boat up next to the dock and securing it quickly. Lacey lifted her head to look at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and fear.
"C'mon," he continued, "I bet you're freezing."
She bit her lip, watching him, and Terry could tell that she was sizing him up, trying to see if she could hold her own in a fight if that's what it came down to. Strangely, Terry realized he liked that about her. She obviously wasn't a naïve idiot—she at least tried to fend for herself.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," he told her, "and you can stay here as long as you want to. But LA's only a half-hour walk away if you've got family or friends there."
Without waiting for her answer, he turned his back on the girl he had saved and walked into his house. He had to give her time. He couldn't push her. If she wanted to, well, she'd stick with him.
Quietly, the door creaked open behind him. Terry couldn't help the smile that grew on his face.
It looked like he was having a guest for the first time in years.
A Motel, Somewhere out in the Mojave Desert
11:09 AM
"She looks fine, man, she's just a harmless old lady."
"Harmless old ladies always turn out to be the Devil in disguise in movies…" Phoenix sighed. "How did I get elected to do this anyway?"
"You volunteered." Mike rolled his eyes. "You said, and I quote, 'Oh look, it's just some grandma. She's no big deal."
"That was not a volunteer to go talk to her!" hissed Phoenix.
"Sure sounds like it," Rob interjected.
"I'll go with you if you do all the talking, babe," Brad offered.
Phoenix growled angrily. "I hate you all. Sleep with one eye open." But nevertheless, he grabbed Brad's hand and marched forward to the reception desk in the dirty, small lobby.
"Three connecting rooms, don't forget!" Mike called out after him.
The lobby doors swung open once again, and Joe popped up behind the pair. "No one else in the entire place," he reported. "We're the only car in the parking lot—looks like it's just us and Grandma there…"
"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing," Mike muttered.
Brad turned around and flashed the other men a quick thumbs-up. Mike watched Phoenix take out his wallet, count some bills and confer with Brad before Brad dug out a few grubby dollar bills out of his pocket. They exchanged the money for a handful of metal keys attached to lanyards.
"Man, these look ancient," Brad murmured as he passed them out. "I thought all hotels used those plastic swipe thingies these days?"
"This place doesn't exactly look like it keeps up with the times," Joe replied grimly. He led the troop of men towards a rusty elevator, jabbing the up button a couple of times before it registered and the door slid open with a squeak.
"I'm not sure I want to get in that thing…" Rob whispered to Mike under his breath.
"That's how I'm starting to feel about this entire place," Mike answered before the doors clanged shut behind him.
Mount Lee, Santa Monica Mountains, Los Angeles
8:23 PM
Against his will, Frank had finally succumbed to sleep, the rhythmic sound of Gerard's breathing and the drumbeat of the rain outside the cave his only lullaby.
The four men were oblivious to the world outside, each cocooned in his own little dream-world, ignorant of reality. There were all cold and far from protected, barely sheltered from the storm outside.
But for now, they were safe.
A Deserted Warehouse, the Mojave Desert
9:07 PM
Billie laid in the dark, listening to the acid rain drum on the tin roof. On either side of him, Tré and Mike had already been lulled into an uneasy slumber.
They hadn't come up with a plan, and so, tired, hopeless and bored, they had soon called it a night. But Billie couldn't calm his racing thoughts enough to reach slumber just yet.
He hated not having a plan. He absolutely abhorred admitting defeat and giving into the fact that they were stuck there. But somewhere in his mind, a small part kept repeating, "It could be worse."
After all, for now, they were safe.
McDonald's, Outer Suburban Beverly Hills
9:28 PM
For three hours now, Taylor, Hayley and Jeremy had sought refuge in the small McDonald's. It was empty now. They were shocked to find that it held up reasonably well against the rain, even though buildings just across the street had begun to dissolve under the constant barrage.
They were on their fifth cup of coffee each, but the caffeine was beginning to lose its touch, because they were all feeling drowsy. Hayley had dropped off first—at some point, her silent sobs had turned into snores. Taylor, too, had fallen asleep, his dark head resting next to Hayley's red one.
Jeremy knew he was about to drift off, too. But even in his drowsy state, a feeling of pride washed over him.
He had done it. He had saved lives. For now, they were safe.
The Bennington Residence, Westchester, Los Angeles, California
9:43 PM
Despite all their sleep earlier in the Day, Chester and Amy had dozed off again. The power to their basement had cut, leaving them together in absolute darkness.
It had taken Amy a while to forget about the disaster long enough to sleep, but her boyfriend's presence was, as always, a constant, calming force. His quiet humming was all she needed to slip into oblivion. He soon followed after her. The pair lay together and allowed themselves to forget the world.
There in their concrete haven, for now, they were safe.
Terry's House, the Edge of California
10:04 PM
"Thank you so much, Terry," Lacey murmured sleepily. "Seriously, I can never repay you."
"You don't have to," Terry assured her. He felt a surge of affection towards the young girl. She laid on his couch, swathed in blankets and some of his too-small clothes.
About an hour after Terry had taken Lacey in, she had opened up and began to tell him everything—who she was, where she was from, who her parents were, what her life used to be like. He had listened attentively to every word. When she was done, he promised her that for as long as she needed it, there was a place for her here.
"Try to sleep," he told her. A moment later, he could hear her soft snores.
Terry breathed a sigh of relief. He felt overwhelming gladness that he had been able to make a difference in someone's life, that he had been able to help the disaster after all.
For now, they were safe.
A Motel, Somewhere out in the Mojave Desert
10:35 PM
Mike laid in the darkness, concentrating on Rob's breathing from the bed next to him. His thoughts were going a mile a minute.
"We did it, Mike," Rob murmured. Mike jumped, startled. He hadn't realized that Rob was still awake.
"Did what?" he whispered back.
"Survived the apocalypse," Rob replied. "Well, probably."
"I think we'll be fine," Mike reassured him, yawning. Rob didn't speak again.
But they both believed wholeheartedly in Mike's words. For now, they were safe.
~~~END OF PART ONE~~~