Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“Athena to all. Code Red. We are at Code Red, evacuate now.”
I shut my eyes for half a second before bolting from the room. The fear in Nova’s voice on the radio makes my stomach hit the floor. The rice I scarfed a few hours ago threatens to come back up.
Stay calm. Nothing matters more in an emergency than staying levelheaded.
My dad burned that advice into my brain. I take a deep breath, reminding myself I don’t stop fighting until I’m dead. With Marcus gone, there are two hundred eleven people in camp right now, and they need help.
What if it’s not the volcano? A frenzied laugh bursts out of me when I realize the Code Red could be Theron kidnapping someone again, or Rising Tide mounting a full attack on us with Marcus gone.
I key in the code to the Sub’s door, which slowly inches off the ground. A massive boom penetrates through to my bones, making them feel like they’re vibrating. The ground shakes, making me crouch to stay on my feet.
Something is very wrong. The sun hasn’t set, but there’s no daylight coming in through the opening made by the rising door.
When I duck under the door and find dark-gray ash particles swirling through the air, an assignment I did for my earth science class in high school roars back into my consciousness.
Volcanic ash is deadly. It has tiny glass and rock particles that can impair vision and breathing. Why didn’t I remember that sooner?
Amira and Niran are close by. He has his hands on her shoulders and she’s giving him a panic-stricken look.
“Go! You can do this!” he yells.
I race up to them. “Take your shirts off! Wet them in the well and cover your heads with them. This ash is deadly. Tell everyone.”
Amira nods, stripping her shirt off immediately. They both take off toward the well. I pull my radio from my waistband and push the button on its side, yelling into it.
“Aphrodite to all! Wet clothing or blankets and cover your faces with them! You have to—” An acrid taste floods my mouth at the same time tiny, sandlike particles fly into my eyes.
I turn my face to the ground to finish my message, my eyes burning. “Filter out the particles. You have to filter out the particles. It’s going to be hard to see and breathe. Stop moving supplies. Just get everyone to the beach.”
I bend and spit on the ground, the strong sulfur smell in my nose and mouth making me nearly gag. Something roars through me, dropping me to my knees.
“Briar! Briar, where are you?” Amira’s scream of terror cuts through me.
“I’m here.” My words are barely audible, so I take a deep breath of ashy air in and try again. “Here!”
It hurts. Every cell of my body is screaming in pain. I can’t move. My head throbs with blinding pain more intense than anything I’ve ever known.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
I can’t scream. I can hardly even breathe. It’s not the volcanic ash and gases that are killing me, but something much bigger. A tidal wave of agony swallowing me and everything else in its path. I’m burning and choking, begging death to move faster.
And finally, everything stops.
“I’ve got you. Just keep breathing. That’s all you need to do. Keep breathing, Briar.”
I’m wet. My throat burns. I try to crack my eyelids open, but I don’t have enough strength. There’s something covering my mouth, but I can’t lift my hand to move it.
All I can manage is a short hum.
“Briar, can you hear me?” It’s Amira, and she’s crying. “Are you okay?”
I try to talk, but all I can manage is another hum.
“She’s waking up!” Amira says.
“Want me to take her?”
That voice is a man. Niran, I think.
“Yeah. My arms are about to fall off.”
Water splashes my face, my eyes finally opening. Niran’s taking me from Amira, holding me over-the-threshold style.
“Welcome back,” he says. “You’re officially a volcano survivor. The prize is pretty shitty, though.”
It’s nighttime, and we’re in water. The ocean, I think, as water laps lightly against my arms and legs.
I’m hollowed out. Exhausted. But I have to wake up and help evacuate camp. We have young children and people with mobility issues. I can’t let them get left behind.
“What’s happening?” My voice is a croak I don’t recognize.
“Just rest,” Niran says. “You’re okay.”
“No,” I manage.
“She wants to know,” Amria says softly. “Briar, you were unconscious. We covered your face with your wet T-shirt to help you breathe. Niran carried you to the beach we evacuated to. It’s been a few hours since the volcano erupted.”
“No.” It’s a helpless whimper because I don’t want to believe I failed everyone.
Not only did I not help anyone evacuate, but Niran had to carry me instead of saving someone else.
The roar I felt earlier is quiet now. There’s just a dull, flat sense of melancholy.