When the rains may come (Science Fiction)

7. Storm before the rain (part 2)

Then there was the night when they had to relocate. The night they left their home. The night the sirens started to blare.

Wwwwwwaaaaaaaaaooooooouuuuunnnn...

Marie's eyes snapped open. She sat up in the bed, her heart pounding.

"The disaster sirens," Clint said, sounding like he hadn't been asleep at all.

"There had been no warning on the radio at all," Marie said. "There's always an announcement about approaching disasters."

Clint sat up. "There wasn't this time," he said. "That means they learnt about this disaster just a few hours ago." He sighed and rose out of bed and started to get dressed. "Grab your mask and gear. We are moving down into the basement again."

Marie shook Zack awake. The boy opened his eyes and heard the sound of the sirens. "We are going down to the basement?" he asked.

Clint nodded.

"I'll go and wake up Nick. He sleeps like a log. He probably didn't hear it," Zack said and rushed out of bed.

Everyone gathered in the hallway outside the master bedroom. Clint was still in his pajamas, Marie had pulled on a denim jacket over her nightgown. They'd forced Zack to put on a pair of jeans over his shorts and Nick wore simple trousers and a button down shirt. They all descended into the basement. Marie hoped whatever the sirens had warned against wasn't too bad.

But it turned out to be worse.

A storm. The wind howled like a wild animal to the cacophony of clattering and shattering shingles and exploding glass. Debris hurled against walls, against doors, against the windows.

They sat crouched by the walls in the basement, listening to mother nature taking apart their house, one brick at a time, hoping that they would at least have a roof left once they got back upstairs. A sodium-phosphorus lamp sat at the center of the small room.

Marie held onto Zack tightly as if afraid somehow the storm outside would blow her son away. The boy flinched every instance there was a crack of thunder outside. Clint stroked the boy's hair, trying to comfort him. Nick sat with his back against the opposite wall, watching them through the visor of his gas mask. He smirked at Zack. "Hey, kiddo. Wanna see a magic trick?" he said.

Zack raised his head, looked at him. Nick raised his palms, holding his fingers wide open, showing that his hands were empty. Then he gripped the thumb of his right hand between the thumb and forefinger of his left. Then he moved both the hands away from each other, his right thumb stayed in the grip of his left hand as if he'd severed the finger from his palm.

Zack pursed his lips, unimpressed. "That's lame," he said. "We used to do this trick back in kindergarten."

Nick smirked at him. "How about this one then?" He pulled out an old silver coin from his pocket. He held it up between his thumb and forefinger before closing his fist around it. When he opened his fist, the coin was gone.

Zack gasped. "Where did it go?"

Nick grinned at the boy and beckoned him with a finger. "It's right there." He reached behind the boy's ear and pulled back his hand, revealing the coin.

Zack gasped again. "Where did it come from?"

Nick chuckled. "I'll tell you, but keep it a secret, okay?" He smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

Zack giggled as Nick told him the trick.

Marie was smiling under her gas mask as she watched Nick and Zack managing to have fun while the storm kept stirring things up outside. That's when she turned to Clint but noticed the frown on his brow, the anger in his eyes.