They entered the apartment. Magazines and other detritus floated past them. Tommy led Angela to the kitchen. The countertops were just above the waterline, islands of white marble resting in a brown sea.
“I’m going under,” Tommy said.
Angela hopped from foot to foot, her body growing numb in the cold water. “You need help?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Tommy dove beneath the surface. The water was so murky Angela couldn’t see any part of him when he submerged. Air bubbles popped in his place. Something brushed against her leg and she jumped, hoping beyond hope it was only Tommy as he rummaged through the lower cabinets.
A minute later he reemerged. He held in his arms a stack of canned vegetables. He placed them on the counter and winked at her.
“See, told you,” he said. “And I think I felt a case of bottled water down there, too. I’ll be right back.”
With another deep breath, Tommy plunged back into the murk. Angela took a garbage bag from the shelves to her rear and loaded it with cans. Once more Tommy brushed her leg, only she didn’t jump this time. She giggled a bit instead.
“You gotta be more careful!” she yelled at the rising bubbles. “One of these times you’ll get a little too close to you-know-where, and then…”
Something caught her eye; flashes, like sparks, coming from the doorway. Slowly she turned her head. Through the opening appeared a clump of shimmering lights. It moved gradually, gracefully, like liquid within liquid, coming toward them. Angela backed up a step.
“Uh, Tommy?” She swallowed a lump, tried to call for him again, and couldn’t. Fear choked her.
Tommy hadn’t come up.
In a panic, she thrust her arms into the water. Her hands searched blindly for him, but came away with nothing. A quick glance told her the approaching tube of sludge and light was halfway across the kitchen. She searched harder. Her foot caught on something, and she fell forward. Her face splashed below the surface. Stinging salt water ran down her throat. She thrashed around, trying to regain her footing.
“Ang, what’s wrong?”
Angela stopped her flaying and looked at the voice. Tommy stood before her, away from the counter, on the other side of the room. He held up a twelve-pack of Evian with his right hand, oblivious to the thing coming up behind him.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Did I scare you? Sorry. I thought it’d be a good joke to swim around you. You know, surprise you a little. I guess it was a stupid idea.”
The thing in the water started to encircle him. Tommy never saw it. He simply stared at Angela with a look of concern in his eyes. It wasn’t until the thing’s flashing, ethereal lights floated in front of him that he looked down.
Tommy screamed. A cylinder of brown water rose up and wrapped itself around his chest. One moment he was above water, the next he disappeared. Angela watched with eyes bulging, afraid to move. A frantic pool of air bubbles appeared where Tommy had stood. Then they stopped.
Angela held her breath. All was quiet but for the sway of the water. She inched to the side, along the counter, heading for the door. Her elbow struck an open drawer. She winced but kept on going.
Tommy’s head exploded from the water. Angela screamed. He lashed out with his arms like a drowning man. Strange veins of a substance that looked like seaweed clung to him, pulling him back under. He fought against it. The flesh on his neck singed. The brown water around him turned red. The veins then worked their way to his head. His eyes bulged and he offered a gurgling, blood-filled scream before his cheeks caved in. A few more veins pulled off his lower jaw. It sank into the depths.
Angela dashed out of the kitchen fast as she could. The waist-deep water fought against her with nightmarish force. Tears streamed down her cheeks. In a few moments she was out of the apartment and back in the hallway. Still more clumps of shimmering light approached. She turned away and waded toward the stairs. She could feel their slimy fingers on her heels. The roof access door, still open, was only a few feet away.
Gasping and dripping water, she scurried up the stairs and never once looked back. When she got to the roof, she slammed the door shut and slid down it until her wet butt smacked the concrete.
She sat there and cried, with her head in her hands, for hours.
September 15th
It was night. Angela’s stomach cramped. She lay on her back in the middle of the roof, staring up at a star-filled sky. She traced lines from one star to another, making pictures in her mind. Every one came out looking like Tommy.
Another pang wrenched her gut, and she moaned. She hadn’t eaten in days. The diseased rainwater she drank tore up her insides. Her throat burned with every sip, and when she looked at her reflection in a puddle, she saw her cheeks were pallid and sunken. She looked like a corpse.
Growing bored and depressed, she rolled over and curled into a ball. She needed sleep, though it seemed sleep was all she did. She closed her eyes and hoped the next time she woke up it wouldn’t be in the middle of a nightmare.
September 22nd
Dry weather arrived, and when it did, the seas stopped rising. It was only two feet from the top of the apartment building. Every so often, if there was a strong wind, waves would lash over the sides, covering the roof with brown, tainted water.
Not that Angela cared much. She had no food, no water, no hope. She lingered in the same spot for hours, staring at the cracks in the concrete below her. Her lips were dry and split, her body emaciated and dying.
Her eyes started playing tricks on her. As dehydration set in, she began to see ships in the distance; giant sea-faring vessels that towed behind them nets filled with the remains of all the people she’d known. These ships always stayed just beyond the horizon, painted gray against the curve of the earth. To her mind’s eyes they were as big as cities.
She should have been frightened, but she wasn’t.
Another crack caught her attention, and she watched it.
September 26th
“King me.”
Angela placed one checker on another and grinned. “Good job, Tommy,” she said. “Why can’t I ever beat you?”
“I’m just good,” he replied.
She looked in his eyes. They were so kind and loving. She could gaze into them forever.
“So, what’re you lovebirds doing?” asked another voice. Angela turned around. It was Rachid Freeman. He sat in a beach chair, bouncing his little daughter in his lap. He smiled, and his white teeth reflected the sunlight. Roberta approached, handed him a glass of iced tea, and squeezed his hand.
“It’s so beautiful out today,” she said.
“Sure is. Sun’s shining, sand’s not too hot, water’s cool… could be the best day ever.”
Angela grinned. She ran her hand through the sand. They were right. It was cool. She giggled, thinking herself silly for not noticing before.
“What’s so funny?” asked Tommy.
“Oh, nothing,” she replied. “I can just be ridiculous, you know?”
They reclined on a towel that hadn’t been there a second ago and let the sun warm their flesh. “Can I ask you a question?” asked Tommy.
“Shoot.”
“What do you want to do with your life?”
Angela cocked her head. “Do with my life? What kind of question is that?”
“Just curious.”
“Oh, well, I don’t know, really. Haven’t thought about it much. I guess I’d like to have a good job and…” She bit her lip. “No, that’s not right. I think, more than anything, I just want to be happy. I want to be in the moment and live. I’ve seen too many folks live like they’re scared of life, and I don’t want that to be me.”