Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“You ordered it,” he says through gritted teeth.
The balls on this one.
“I did,” I agree in a clipped tone. “Almost two hours ago.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” he snaps back. “I’ve been stuck in the elevator of your building.”
My ears start to ache again as pressure builds. I rub at my temples in an attempt to make the throbbing subside. “Just go. Take that cold sub with you.”
He gasps, and I wait for his retaliatory answer. But when I look up, he’s no longer glowering at me, but instead gaping out the window. I turn to see what has his attention.
The low, dark, and ominous storm clouds are retreating.
But that’s not what’s so strange.
Dread twists my stomach and bile creeps up my throat. I’m no longer pissed about my sandwich because something bad is happening.
“What’s happening with the water?” the kid asks, confusion in his tone.
I step closer to the window, trying to understand what I’m seeing. In the whole decade I’ve been here, I’ve never seen anything like it. The water is just…disappearing.
Somewhere else on my floor, I can hear nervous chattering, so I know the others can see it too. The bay is being drawn back rather quickly, as if someone pulled the plug and it’s all draining away.
I’m unable to provide the kid an answer to his question, nor am I able to whip out my phone to look for weather updates. I’m transfixed by the unusual vanishing bay. For each inch the storm clouds retreat, it seems to take the water with it. And because of this strange happening, we can’t see beyond the storm clouds to know what exactly the water is doing.
But it can’t be anything that bad, right?
San Francisco was voted the safest city in the world for the past three consecutive years.
The pressure in my ears increases and I groan, covering the sides of my head with my palms. I’m aware of the kid muttering something, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. All I can do is stare.
Boats, once docked at the many visible piers, are sitting on the rocky bottom, leaned over and bumped up against each other. The San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge looks out of place now that there’s no water beneath it.
A low vibration can be felt beneath my feet that buzzes its way up my body and to my teeth. The entire office seems to clatter quietly, clearly the rumbles being felt by everything everywhere. I’m vaguely aware of the kid cursing as he attempts to dial someone on his phone. I’m too transfixed to try to call anyone.
The lights in the building flicker, not for the first time today, but remain on. I let out a sharp exhale as another excruciating blast of pressure assaults my ears.
Wind whistles and the massive glass panes wobble slightly. Birds fly away from the building this time, getting tossed around as they try to make their escape. Some slam into the building across from ours, this time against their own volition, dying instantly.
“What the hell?” the kid exclaims at the bird spectacle.
I’m no longer interested in the birds. What’s more concerning is the empty bay. Where’s the water, and more importantly, when is it coming back?
The vibrations increase and it no longer feels like buzzing. My legs beneath me quiver. Movement catches my eye. The San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge is swaying and bouncing slightly. I would hate to be on that bridge right now.
Although, being up here, watching the bay vanish before my eyes isn’t much better.
Thunder rumbles in the distance and the sky lights up with a spiderweb of electric light. The clouds are nearly black as they paint the horizon with impending doom.
I feel as though I should be doing something but can’t find the strength to move my feet. I’m rooted in place, watching as this bizarre horror unfolds. The kid, like me, is gaping outside, like he also can’t believe his own eyes.
“They’re out there,” the kid chokes out, palm slamming against the glass. “My family is out there.”
Pity replaces the anger I felt earlier. “I’m sure they’re fine.”
Lies.
Nothing about this is fine.
Something terrible is happening. I can feel it deep in my rattling bones and the throbbing inside my ears.
The bay is gone.
It’s just gone.
Another rumble grinds its way through the building, making me unsteady on my feet. My desk chair rolls away and bumps into a credenza near the windows.
The loud chopping sounds of a helicopter break the eerie rumbles and it flies dangerously low just above the buildings toward the empty bay. It’s then I realize, like the birds, it doesn’t have control. The wind is carrying it toward the massive, angry storm clouds in the distance. And, like some action flick with great CGI, it gets sucked into the dark void.
For a moment, my mind spins as it grabs for answers. The obvious choice is that we’re experiencing one of the strange weather happenings around the globe. However, having always been a King and Koontz fan, I can’t help but wonder if it’s aliens or some sea monster or a figment of my fucked-up imagination.