The Chaos Walker

The Storm

Regis sat on the sofa, his untouched mug of growing cold on the rustic oak coffee table in front of him. His mind replayed the moment in the shower over and over, each replay a fresh wave of uncertainty. How could he have let himself go like that? How could he have betrayed Sarah—his Sarah? Sure, there were bizarre forces at work, but could he live with that excuse?

"It wasn't my fault, really. Right?" the voice in between his eyes said, "Would anyone else have been able to react differently? Honestly! Why am I beating myself up about this? It's basically Sarah, anyway!"

Sarah-ß walked in from the kitchen, her hair still slightly damp. "Family is fed and the dishwasher is doing it's thing" she said with a soft smile. She reached out to touch his arm, but he flinched, pulling away instinctively.

Her smile faltered. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just...tired," he muttered, not meeting her eyes.

His internal watchdog started barking furiously. "Ug, I can't tell her the truth, can I? But surely I could come up with something better than that."

She sat down next to him, her brows knitted in concern. "You've been quiet since before dinner. Did I do something wrong?"

Regis shook his head. "No, it's not you. It's...it's me."

"Woof, woof, woof!" went the imaginary bloodhound again. "Good God! Got anymore horrible, transparent cliches in there, dumbass? Why don't you just tell her? She's not going to believe you, anyway. Maybe she'll just call the EMS and have you taken in for evaluation. At least that way there would be some time to figure something out."

Sarah-ß reached out again, her touch gentle. "Regis, please talk to me. I don't understand what's going on."

He looked up, meeting her gaze. Her tone of voice, so familiar. The genuine look of concern coming out of the face he knew so well almost broke through his defensive silence. But then the pink stripe of her hair fell over her face, reminding him that this wasn't his Sarah. "I can't...I can't do this right now," he said, his voice breaking. He cast his gaze around the living room, desperately looking for something to divert the conversation.

The sky outside the living room windows was darkening much faster than it should have for the time of day. He seized on that like a drowning man grabs for a dangling tree branch.

"Was there supposed to be a storm coming in? Look outside!"

He snatched up the remote control from the coffee table and flipped through the channels searching for a local weather report. Sarah jumped up from the sofa to close the doors that had been left open all evening to catch the breeze coming off the water. The wind had definitely picked up and the sky was a mass of roiling black clouds.

"Yeah. You remember us joking about Tropical Storm Sara?" she said with a sigh, not wanting to let go of the conversation. "It's just supposed to be a little rain. No big deal. What does the news say? This looks like it's gotten stronger than they thought."

He finally found a newscaster with a local weather map filling the screen behind him, waving his arms in a circular motion around a mass of clouds. His finger found the volume button and turned it up loud enough for them both to hear.

"Tropical Storm Sara has tapped into an unexpected source of low pressure and the system has strengthened rapidly in the last few hours. It is now approaching the coast at 15-20 miles an hour with winds gusting up to 80 miles an hour," the weatherman was saying. "Authorities are advising residents to be extremely careful even though this isn't officially a hurricane yet. We will continue to follow this and update you regularly."