The Tide

The wind whips my hair into a tangled mess. The incessant howl makes my ears ache. The streets are deserted; everyone sought shelter when the first wail of the sirens was heard. Those of us on the roads keep our gaze down and walk briskly. No one wants to be caught outside in what is to come. I steal a glance towards the sky, and what I see makes my heart sink. The usual shade of light cerulean has darkened into a dusky aquamarine. Formidable clouds loom over the landscape, casting the entire city into darkness. With my heightened senses I can just make out Cathedral Towers where the tomb is located. The scene is enough to make me shiver. I turn my focus back to getting home and continue on my way. I round the corner and my house comes into view. I sprint past the boarded-up houses and leap onto my porch. I pound my fists against the door, praying that my family will let me in. The fierce wind stops abruptly and releases my hair to fall around my shoulders. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I slowly turn to face the quiet street. A beam of light shoots into the sky so intense that I have to shield my eyes. A thunderous crack soon follows, causing dread to fill my stomach. I stumble backwards into my now open front door. The hands of my mother encircle me, while my father slams the door, shutting us in. Breathless, I look at my family with a horrified gaze, "The Tide is coming."

The Tide was something that older siblings told their brothers and sisters to instill terror in their young hearts. It inspired nightmares among many of the youths. We didn't have monsters under the bed; we had the Tide in the vents. When you got older, you learned about the Tide in history class. The teachers brought back your childhood nightmares, but tenfold. The truth was much worse than any of the stories you'd heard. Cold terror crept into your heart with each statistic. Before long, fear of the Tide held our entire population in its icy grip. Now we're all frozen in the face of our oldest enemy.

Our house explodes into a panic, upon my arrival. My mother runs around the house, making sure we're locked in tight. My father follows in her wake, pushing furniture in front of doors and windows to form a second barrier. This leaves me to corral my siblings and protect them.

"Cassie, what's going on? What's happening?" The shrill voice of my younger sister turns my stomach into knots.

"Don't worry, Leah," I reply, my voice breaking and betraying me. "It's just a little scare over a small tremor. We'll be okay."

"Promise?" I look down at the chubby face of my sister. There's the darkness of fear reflected in her light eyes. I swallow hard and silently pray for it to all work out. She's just shy of six, she doesn't deserve to experience the Tide so young.

"I promise," I lie.

After that we don't talk much; I just hand more clothing to them. The three of us layer up, covering every inch of our skin.

"Come here, Goose. Let me help you with that." Leah gives up her fight with her coat zipper and waddles over to me.

"I can do it," she protests, sticking her lower lip out.

"I believe you, but big sisters make sure your hair doesn't get caught. I'll hold it for you while you zip up." I gather her blonde tresses in one hand and hold them free from her movements. She clumsily tugs the zipper up to her chin. "There you go, kiddo," I grin at her and plant a kiss on her forehead.

Her lips turn up in a shy smile, "Thanks for the help."

"Anytime. Sam, come here and let me check you."

Sam walks over with the indignant attitude of a boy just turned twelve. "I'm too old," he whines, "You don't have to check me anymore."

"I'll keep checking you until you're a wrinkled old man. Now hold out your arms." He mutters complaints, but complies. I inspect every seam, stitch, and meeting of fabric to ensure his safety.