Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
It was unacceptable.
I had to get a fucking grip.
And figure out how to fix the situation moving forward.
Sure, I’d gotten a fair amount of information out of her so far. But I imagined there was a lot more to learn. And Ace was the type to want to know everything possible, so he could help us all navigate this new world we were entering into.
“What’s got you down, my friend?” the bartender asked as he wiped a glass with a rag that didn’t look clean enough for the task.
“I fucked up,” I admitted, swishing the amber liquid around in my glass, suddenly wishing it was possible for me to get drunk. All the asshole young adults around me seemed to be having a fuck of a good time thanks to the liquor they were drinking.
“We all do that sometimes,” the bartender said. “I’m sure it’s fixable. What’d you do?”
“Fucked a coworker,” I said, telling half the truth.
The whistle the man let out seemed to say that my problem was a tough one.
It wasn’t even him who answered me next. That honor would go to the college-aged guy waiting on a drink beside me.
“Just act like it didn’t happen, man,” he said, shrugging. “No, I’m serious,” he said when I must have shot him a dubious look. “Two years back, I got horny and stupid and fucked my tutor one night. Problem was, I really did need the help for that class, and none of the other tutors I’d tried were any help. So I just showed up the next day like I didn’t know what the inside of her pussy felt like.”
“And that worked?”
“Yeah. I mean, she was taken aback. Maybe she was even a little upset about it. But I’m guessing she was embarrassed that I didn’t seem to even remember it, so she never said anything. It’s worth a try. Why let shit get messy if you don’t have to?”
I didn’t know a lot about humans and their development, but it did seem like that the older they got, the less likely they were to be stupid and unsure of themselves. So maybe that worked on a young woman, but wouldn’t work on a slightly more mature one.
Either way, it was likely worth a shot.
I didn’t exactly have any other ideas.
“Oh, shit. That’s the third one this week,” the guy said, looking up at the TV above the bar, making my gaze follow. “Fucking global warming, am I right?” he asked, but was talking to himself.
My gaze went to the crawl at the bottom of the screen.
Thirty-three confirmed dead with ninety-five still reported missing.
That was a lot of dead. Even with the human’s mass-murdering-their-own tendencies.
Just as I finished reading, the newscaster shifted from an older guy to a carefully coiffed woman who had adopted sad eyes and a somber tone to go into the news story.
“Tonight, the search and rescue continues to find more of the reported ninety-five missing people from this morning’s flash flooding that has already claimed the lives of thirty-five people and displaced thousands. Matthew Rowe is on the scene. Matthew, what are things like there?”
Chaos.
That was what it was like around the newscaster. A video of him speaking with a neighborhood completely submerged behind him was interjected with footage of people in canoes and life boats, or floating on doors, of helicopters lowering down to save people from their roofs, and overcrowded makeshift shelters where thousands of people were cramped, wet, looking lost and scared.
“Now, Michael, am I right in saying that this area has never experienced a flash flood?” the female anchor asked.
There was a short pause as Michael pressed his hand to his ear to hear her better.
“Yes, that is right, Maria. Citizens are left shocked and devastated tonight as there was no way for them to have ever predicted a storm of this magnitude. Experts are still scrambling to explain this natural event.”
Natural?
Or, possibly, not so natural?
Charlotte’s words were echoing in my head. About storms. About the gods showing themselves through them.
“Were there other disasters this week?” I asked the kid who’d just gotten his drinks.
“Been living under a rock?” he asked, brows screwing up.
“I don’t watch any TV,” I admitted.
“Well, yeah, man. There was this flash flood. Then there was a storm with lightning so bad it set a fire that they are still working to put out. And then a tsunami. Like, in South America. Weird shit. They tried to warn us about that ozone layer when we were kids. But did we listen? No, we didn’t. They should have told us that the ozone layer could strangle ducks or some shit, ‘cause I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t cut up their plastic can connectors.”
With that, he shook his head and turned to go back to his friends.
Sure, Earth was known for natural disasters. And, yes, they’d been increasing in severity for decades thanks to careless corporations and an insane amount of waste produced by the humans.