Broken Orbit | ONC

Storm

              Time seemed to crawl in comparison to how it had dragged before coming to the village. Every second felt three times as long. Ever step through the snow took twice as much energy. I dragged my feet through it, air ripping through my lungs painfully.

    There was no other goal than finding the Ark, now. Nothing else.

    Snow blanketed every inch of the planet, but I could see the terrain slowly shifting as we drew closer to the land bridge between Central and South America. I was forced to stop often to adjust my direction to make sure that I didn't get myself turned around.

    Four weeks later, and every time I blinked, I still saw the image of Doran's body. Every blip and his corpse flashed into my mind's eye. It was permanently etched into my eyelid. When the image was particularly strong, I'd shrink into myself and clench my fists, waiting for the storm to pass. Chance would see me stop and sit on my boots, waiting for me to ride out the wave of grief.

    Nightmares plagued my sleep. The wound on my back stopped hurting a few weeks ago, but my sleep was disturbed nonetheless. Traces of memories of Doran and I as children faded in and out. Some nights weren't bad, and others left me an exhausted mess in the morning. Nothing I did made them leave. I'd seen bodies before – I'd come across multiple gruesome crime scenes in my time. Regardless, Doran's body haunted me.

    One particular morning, I worked to pack my things. Last night had been one of the milder ones. I'd been fortunate enough to be able to start a fire and heat up a bizarre concoction of water, dried meat and vegetables. Chance licked his bowl clean. We were both dehydrated from the severe winds the past day. Chance's face and slippery licks quickly told me that the stew was his favorite meal, thus far.

    I snagged the empty bowl, shaking my head. Chance reared onto his back legs and swatted at it. "Chance, sit." He sat. I nodded. We'd been working on voice commands for two weeks. "Good. You can try to finish it, but there's nothing left." He still buried his face into the empty bowl as I sat it back down.

    After he'd stopped pretending there was food in it, I put it back in my bag and shouldered it. Chance sat patiently as I finished strapping on the last of his coat. Once we were ready to go, I opened the door to the house we'd been using. My body halted and my jaw fell.

    The usual clouds had faded into a faint mist. Straight ahead, to the east, was a wall of clouds. It stood taller than the eye could see. A pure wall of dark, black clouds that promised danger. They rolled from the top of the wall down the sides. It touched the ground and the clouds disappeared under the heavy mass of moisture. I stared at it, aghast. In all my life, I'd never seen anything like it.

    They weren't snow clouds. That color was way too dark. A thunderstorm . . . That did not bode well. It appeared I was about to experience a new kind of storm: an electric blizzard. There was electricity and moisture in that storm, and it was too cold for sleet. Snow and lightning.

    What direction was it moving? I hadn't seen it at all yesterday, so it was fast-moving. I sealed my lips in a thin line, irritation flicking through my synapses. There was no way I was going to risk getting trapped in that storm. It appeared that Chance and I would be staying another night.

    If that storm was headed our direction, I only had a few hours to secure the building. The windows were boarded up, but I could do more. Gather more firewood. Stepping back, I closed the door. Chance paused chewing of his antler. I let him carry it, now. He preferred to have it in his jaws when we walked. Whenever we paused, he'd chew on it eagerly.

    His eyes watched as I examined the mobile home, thinking. This wasn't the best place to hold a temperature, but it was the best building in town. The rest had shattered windows and no boards. Maybe there were some inside the houses, if I could get through the snow piled through the windows.

    Chance pranced after me as I stepped outside, immediately heading for the next house. Chance was puzzled, but he followed.

    A few hours later and I emerged from the fifth house, my arms laden with firewood. I'd torn down some walls and broken out the wood from within. The storm had gotten close enough that I aimed for the house we were staying in, quickening my stride. The wind picked up and threatened to take off my hood.

    A sudden gust of wind tried to prevent me from closing the door. I heaved my back against it and slammed it shut. Panting, I pulled away and walked to the center of the room. Chance shook and started sniffing around the house again.

    The storm hit us half an hour later. It had been looming closer with faint booms. It announced its arrival in the form of lightning striking directly outside the house. Thunder rocketed through my eardrums and I clapped my hands over my ears, gritting my teeth. The walls shook.

    Chance shrieked, his back legs launching him forward. Ears flat against his head, he dove into my stomach. I hoisted him up, slightly amused at his shock, before another strike slammed outside. His body trembled with nerves. With him in one arm, I stoked the fire, keeping it at a soft burn. It'd keep us warm but not fill the house with smoke.

    I'd spent the few hours before the storm boarding up the windows twice-over. Hopefully, the wind wouldn't tear them off. They howled outside the flimsy walls. I heard a tree nearby break and the branch fall to the snow in a crash.

    This was going to be a hell of a night.

20,012 total words