vision.
“Not now, Todd,” Ben said, connecting the call as he concentrated on his route. The wind behind him began to swirl, howling like a funnel cloud was forming right behind him. He peeked into his rearview mirror, seeing exactly what he didn’t want to.
“Oh, God…”
7
Marriott Stanton Hotel
South Beach, Miami, Florida
We continue our retreat and turn right, heading around the northern end of the hotel. Nicole and I flinch in time with one another when the sound of a gunshot echoes off the buildings around us. I hurriedly check us both but see no wounds. It’s only when we stop and turn back towards the water that we see the tree I slammed the waiter into begin to fall.
“No way,” I say a little awestruck, Nicole tugging on my arm.
“Yes way,” she says, getting in front of me. “We need to get to the car and get back to D.C.”
“And then call in the army…” I add. I meet her serious gaze and understand what she means, shaking my head in disbelief. Best case scenario, we get away unscathed. If this goes poorly—a likelihood that’s becoming more and more of a possibility with every second—the people of South Beach are going to get a magic show of a lifetime.
The two differences are A) it’s starring me, and B) the magic is quite real and not some cheap illusion or slight-of-hand trick.
“Rargh!”
The angry shout reverberates around us like the tree snapping, pushing us forward even faster. We round the northeastern corner of the hotel and continue into the Marjory Stoneman Douglas Ocean Beach Park. We enter, cutting through some of the decorative shrubs and flowers, completely ignoring the marked pathways. It sits directly between our hotel and the next one to the north. Looking around, I see stunned expressions turn our way. I guess seeing two people only dressed in bathing suits, pushing through the hotel’s hedges is an odd sight.
If only they’d seen what I have.
A rumbling sound starts shaking the grounds around us, drawing our attention back to the beach. Voices of shock and panic erupt from the other people in the small park, sending them into a frenzy—and for good reason.
Nicole sees it first, gripping my arm hard, digging her nails into my flesh. I ignore the pinch in my bicep, seeing what she did a second later. While she’s holding onto me, all I have to hold onto is a false sense of hope.
A wave, easily thirty feet high, is coming straight for us, racing across the surf like it was just summoned by…
Damn.
I’ve seen this before, but it was in a dream—a vision really. Nannot—The End—did the same thing to his homeland, just before he wiped it off the face of the earth. The only positive is that this wave is considerably smaller than the one that helped flatten Atlantis. It’s not directed at the coast as a whole either. It’s heading directly for the park.
“Damn.”
It’s as wide as the area around us, aligned with our exact location.
Nicole turns to run, but I stop her and pull her in close.
“What are you doing?” she asks, not understanding my motives for staying. “We need to go!”
“Trust me,” I say, motioning to the people around us. “We need to get them out of here first. I having a feeling that if we run the wave will just follow us and even more people will die.”
She bites her lip, but agrees and starts yelling for people to run, as I do the same to the other part of the park. Thankfully, the wave is easily seen and everyone—minus us—starts to scatter. I watch as the hotel patrons head into various buildings, or instead just sprint north or south down Ocean Drive.
“So,” she says, standing beside me, fists clenched, “what’s the plan.”
I just smile and pull her in close, kissing her hard on the lips. She kisses me back, sharing the odd moment. It’s not exactly the most romantic of settings, but it’ll have to do with what I’m about to attempt.
“If this doesn’t work—”
“I love you too,
“Not now, Todd,” Ben said, connecting the call as he concentrated on his route. The wind behind him began to swirl, howling like a funnel cloud was forming right behind him. He peeked into his rearview mirror, seeing exactly what he didn’t want to.
“Oh, God…”
7
Marriott Stanton Hotel
South Beach, Miami, Florida
We continue our retreat and turn right, heading around the northern end of the hotel. Nicole and I flinch in time with one another when the sound of a gunshot echoes off the buildings around us. I hurriedly check us both but see no wounds. It’s only when we stop and turn back towards the water that we see the tree I slammed the waiter into begin to fall.
“No way,” I say a little awestruck, Nicole tugging on my arm.
“Yes way,” she says, getting in front of me. “We need to get to the car and get back to D.C.”
“And then call in the army…” I add. I meet her serious gaze and understand what she means, shaking my head in disbelief. Best case scenario, we get away unscathed. If this goes poorly—a likelihood that’s becoming more and more of a possibility with every second—the people of South Beach are going to get a magic show of a lifetime.
The two differences are A) it’s starring me, and B) the magic is quite real and not some cheap illusion or slight-of-hand trick.
“Rargh!”
The angry shout reverberates around us like the tree snapping, pushing us forward even faster. We round the northeastern corner of the hotel and continue into the Marjory Stoneman Douglas Ocean Beach Park. We enter, cutting through some of the decorative shrubs and flowers, completely ignoring the marked pathways. It sits directly between our hotel and the next one to the north. Looking around, I see stunned expressions turn our way. I guess seeing two people only dressed in bathing suits, pushing through the hotel’s hedges is an odd sight.
If only they’d seen what I have.
A rumbling sound starts shaking the grounds around us, drawing our attention back to the beach. Voices of shock and panic erupt from the other people in the small park, sending them into a frenzy—and for good reason.
Nicole sees it first, gripping my arm hard, digging her nails into my flesh. I ignore the pinch in my bicep, seeing what she did a second later. While she’s holding onto me, all I have to hold onto is a false sense of hope.
A wave, easily thirty feet high, is coming straight for us, racing across the surf like it was just summoned by…
Damn.
I’ve seen this before, but it was in a dream—a vision really. Nannot—The End—did the same thing to his homeland, just before he wiped it off the face of the earth. The only positive is that this wave is considerably smaller than the one that helped flatten Atlantis. It’s not directed at the coast as a whole either. It’s heading directly for the park.
“Damn.”
It’s as wide as the area around us, aligned with our exact location.
Nicole turns to run, but I stop her and pull her in close.
“What are you doing?” she asks, not understanding my motives for staying. “We need to go!”
“Trust me,” I say, motioning to the people around us. “We need to get them out of here first. I having a feeling that if we run the wave will just follow us and even more people will die.”
She bites her lip, but agrees and starts yelling for people to run, as I do the same to the other part of the park. Thankfully, the wave is easily seen and everyone—minus us—starts to scatter. I watch as the hotel patrons head into various buildings, or instead just sprint north or south down Ocean Drive.
“So,” she says, standing beside me, fists clenched, “what’s the plan.”
I just smile and pull her in close, kissing her hard on the lips. She kisses me back, sharing the odd moment. It’s not exactly the most romantic of settings, but it’ll have to do with what I’m about to attempt.
“If this doesn’t work—”
“I love you too,
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