Joanshea: Thank you!
Guest: Well, it is getting close to Christmas.
Pixie1913: I hope you took it - there is not much breathing from here on out.
SunDanceQT: Good, cause their relationship is about to get much stronger.

Arrhythmia

What if death is nothing but sound,
Electrical noise, uniform, white.
Sometimes it sweeps over me;
Sometimes it insinuates itself into my mind little by little.
I try not to talk to it.
Not now, Death.
- Datarock

It feels like morning has chosen not to come.

The thunder and lightening stop. The rain lets up into a light drizzle. It remains pitch black outside – and they have no indicator of what time it is.

"Chloe, do you have your phone?"

Chloe nods against Aubrey's shoulder. "It's probably in my bag."

"I would like to know what time it is." I needto know what time it is.

Chloe lifts her head and sits up straight, inching out of the booth after Aubrey. They both kneel by her bag, and Chloe unzips it to sort through it.

Beca lifts her head to watch them.

"Maybe I put it in a different bag?"

Aubrey checks her pockets – vaguely remembering taking Chloe's phone from her at breakfast before gunfire broke out. It isn't there. Maybe she put it in a bag. She unzips her own bag.

"What are you looking for?" Beca asks.

"Do you have your phone?" Chloe asks.

"Yeah." Beca joins them to open up her bag. "I thought I did."

Aubrey shoves her bag across the floor in a sudden outburst.

"Someone must have grabbed them while we were sleeping?" Beca phrases her thought as more of a question then a statement.

"Why would they take our phones?" Chloe asks, "We don't even cell service."

So they can't tell what time it is. So Aubrey spirals even deeper into losing her fucking mind.