White Impact- Niam

White Impact: Ch. 10- Escape

Liam’s POV

Niall looks at me like I’m crazy. Then again, I suppose I am. I’m crazy about him. And I think he knows it. What he doesn’t know is that I’m scared out of my wits of that fire escape. That body is the worst thing I have ever seen with my own two eyes. Ever. It isn’t even a question in my mind that it is the worst. I puked because of it. I freaking had to throw a bag full of vomit out of the window because of it. Maybe we wouldn’t have to actually go past the man though. Maybe we could… who am I kidding? There’s no way down that fire escape except for right past that body. I think I’m willing to try if Niall is. If we have to go past it to get out of this mess then I guess I’m in.

Those thoughts are shot down almost the second I think them. “WHAT? THE FUCKING FIRE ESCAPE?” I guess Niall isn’t that enthusiastic about trudging down a fire escape decorated with a dead man. His expression is a mix between an are-you-crazy look and a look of disgust.

“Well… yeah.” I say it plainly. I don’t know what else to say. How am I supposed to convince him to do something that I’m not even sure that I am comfortable doing?

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He states it matter-of-factly.

“I just don’t know what else we’re supposed to do.” I try to explain, “What are we going to do? Just sit here and starve to death?”

“We’ve got food!” I stare at him.

“How long is this going to last?” I gesture to our tiny supply.

“We can make it last!” I take a deep breath and stand up. This is hopeless. I start pacing the room. I feel like Niall has already made up his mind, and there is doubt that he is ever going to change. I think he’s given up, but I can still feel his eyes on me as I walk back and forth across the cheesy carpet.  

“Okay… so maybe we do need food.” I look up at him surprised.

His eyes are calculating. He has taken on an air about him that I’ve never seen before. He is weighing the pros and cons. I start my own mental list. The pros can’t even be determined for sure. We might be able to find others, and there might be food. But the cons are terrible. Even if there are other people what if they don’t accept us? In every cliché movie people go psycho during Armageddon, and would they share their food? What if there aren’t even people there?

I try to brush off the thoughts that swirl themselves around my head. We just need to find food. That’s all there is to it. If we are going to survive this, we need food. A couple of string cheeses and fruit cups is just not going to do it.

My mind betrays me. My thoughts keep slipping back to that of a certain dead man. He is our first issue in this whole fiasco. How would I face my fright? I’m not sure I would be much help if Niall got upset along the way.

I’m still pacing. Niall sits watching me, and thinking, on the bed. I just do not understand how or why we survived. So many things could have gone so wrong. We could have decided to stay out later and then be on ground level when the wave hit and drowned. We could have been killed in the first place by the glass. We could have decided to commit suicide like the man on the fire escape. The building could have tipped over from the force of the wave itself. I shudder. I look back at Niall. He’s still sitting on the bed.

His legs dangle off the side and his toes barely skim the carpet. He looks young. He looks young but I know the hardened conscious underneath. He’s been through a lot. My gaze skims over him up and down. He could make even this ugly comforter look pretty. Wait. The comforter. LIGHTBULB. “NIALL!”