Page 1 of Apricity
Chapter 1
Alessandra
Rain continues to pour down, pummeling the tin roof of the small one room cabin in rural North Carolina. The sharp taps echo throughout the space creating a loud cacophony of chaos. If it was a regular rain shower, it would be nice to listen to. Relaxing. Therapeutic.
Not so much during a hurricane.
“We’ve got hail!” Hawk calls out as he keeps watch at the front window. Raising the mug in his hand, he takes a sip, shaking his head at what he sees outside. He’s been standing there monitoring the storm’s progress for over two hours. Instead of letting up, the deluge has only gotten worse as the minutes pass.
I’ve experienced the sheer power of a hurricane before. In what feels like almost a lifetime ago with completely different company, I used to live in coastal Carolina. Minutes from the ocean. I didn’t stay long enoughto get used to it but I learned quickly that the routine never really changed unless there was an evacuation. In any other case, you got the alert and you hunkered down. Bought enough bread, milk and other supplies to last at least a week and filled up your bathtubs to have enough water in case the power went out. You brought out the flashlights and lanterns, board games and cards, and simply waited until it was all over. Until the powerline crews could get to work and bring everyone back online.
I think it’s safe to say it’s going to be a bit different this time around.
Hawk turns from the window, singing under his breath about somethingbiting dustwhile bobbing his head to the tune. Not seeming the least bit bothered by the storm, he lets the gauzy curtain fall back into place before coming to sit by me at the kitchen table. He kisses the crown of my head and rubs his calloused fingers along my jaw and cheek before taking his seat. I smile back at him and take another sip from my cup of coffee just as Jax scowls maddingly out the back window.
“And there goes the solar panels. Son of a bitch,” he huffs loudly, raising his outstretched hand to the window, clearly agitated with the storm’s progression. Typically, the hurricanes don’t really do any damage this far inland, but every once in a blue moon, they tear it up.
Jax spent years preparing his estate to be fully self-sufficient. It was an off-grid paradise complete with solar panels, a wind turbine, generators, a cute little garden, plucky chickens, and a big ass security fence. He had it all. His home at the northern end of the lake was state of the artin comparison to the bungalow, but this place still has its capabilities, albeit limited. Or at least it did.
Jax’s estate burned down a month ago during the fight with Earl’s brother and his crew. From what the guys tell me, it’s probably nothing but a pile of wood and cement now, which is why we’ve been staying at the cabin, otherwise known as the “bug-out-bungalow.” It’s not nearly as impressive but it still came with running water, a wood-burning stove, gas-powered appliances, a generator and even solar panels.
At least we still have the generator…
One by one the lights slowly flicker out, leaving us in the shadow of the storm. It’s only three o’clock in the afternoon so the sun is still out but the clouds’ overcast prevents any ray from giving us reprieve. I expect to see Jax go to the electrical panel to relay the power to the generator but instead I see him pull out dozens of candles. Cole’s right there, helping him light the wicks before placing the tiny tea lights all around the small cabin.
“What’s wrong with the generator?” I yell over to Jax, curious as to why we aren’t using that. We have the fuel. It’s hardwired into the power box. What gives?
Jax simply shakes his head in response, refusing to answer my lingering question. His jawline exposes his frustration as he clamps his teeth together tight enough to make the muscle protrude. Cole takes pity on me, however, and puts the matches down before turning in my direction.
“Hail, beautiful!” he shouts over the sharp pangs battering the roof, nodding to the window in front of me. I tilt my head to the side, confused for a second.
How big is this freaking hail?
Standing, I take my coffee with me as I head towards the front window, pulling the curtain to the side. The wind is blowing furiously, making the loblolly pines bend almost all the way over and touch the ground before springing back up in the opposite direction. I can’t understand in the least how they’re not breaking but that’s not what has my jaw dropping. It’s the size of the hail Cole alluded to.
The individual pieces look to be bigger than a golf ball. Maybe even as large a baseball. The chunks of ice screaming down to us are literally tearing through the earth and everything else in their path. No wonder it’s so loud in here. I can barely hear my own thoughts let alone any of the guys speaking to me. The tin roof isn’t doing us any favors today but, strangely enough, the weatheris.
Apart from the horde, there've only been minor handfuls of infected bodies to deal with lately. More of a nuisance than anything else. Today, however, it seems we don't have to deal with them at all as another ball of ice crashes down into one of their skulls, splattering grey and white matter around like confetti.
I look over to where the generator is staged outside to see it dented all to hell. The metal housing looks like the Hulk went apeshit on it. For all we know, it could be completely beyond repair at this point. I can’t help but sigh sorrowfully at the sight.
Why couldn’t winters in North Carolina be like those in New York?
Wait, what the hell am I thinking? New York winters are God awful. Especially those in western New York. Gnarly blizzards and five feet of snow accumulating overnight? Ice storms? Lake effect nonsense complete withuninvited polar vortexes? No, I’m good. Spank you very much.
Honestly, I’m not sure which one I’d take over the other. They both suck.
But, now that I think about it, Iwouldtake a Californian winter. I’ve never been there personally but from what I hear, it’s paradise. Sunshine and seventy-degree days on the regular. I could be completely wrong but that sounds marvelous. Count me in whereverthatweather is. What we have here on the east coast is fucking bullshit.
I feel the wet, loving licks of Sadie at my side, her small whimpers pulling me to come to her level and reassure her. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to go outside anytime soon, cutie. Sorry.” I grimace but she’ll be ok. Luckily, Jax took her out on a long walk before the bottom fell out earlier so, hopefully, she’ll be able to hold it at least a little while longer. I can’t imagine the storm will keep up like this all night.
At least I hope not…
When I turn back around and face the room, my jaw drops at how beautiful it is in here despite the ugliness taking place outside. Hundreds of little tealight candles are staged around the cozy space. The intimate setting instantly calms my worries, allowing me to release the tension that seemed to fill my shoulders.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Hawk calls, sitting on the floor near the wood burning stove with his arms outstretched as if waiting for me to fall into them, which I do, causing us both to crumple into a heap of limbs in front of the roaring fire.
It’s gotten much colder here in the past month. Not as crazy as anything I’ve experienced up north but chilly and damp enough that a sweater is definitely needed. A nice fire doesn’t hurt either.
