The Storm Was More Than Just a Storm
By nightfall, the storm had become a living thing. A howling, furious beast, clawing at the cabin, rattling windows, shaking the earth beneath them. The trees outside twisted violently, their branches thrashing like panicked limbs.
Then—CRACK.
A deep, splintering sound tore through the cabin. Wood snapping. Something giving way.
“We need to go NOW!” Ivy Mae shouted, grabbing Jas’s arm and yanking them toward the door.
Roman was already moving, cradling Milagro in one arm, clutching the tiny kitten—Stormy—in the other. The name had been a joke earlier, but now, it felt like an omen.
They stumbled through the howling wind, barely reaching the root cellar before the next deafening gust slammed into the cabin. The door banged shut behind them, sealing them in darkness.
Inside, the air was damp, thick with the scent of earth and candle wax. The tiny space had sheltered them before, but tonight felt different. Tonight, the world above them was unraveling.
Then—another surge.
The dim bulb overhead flickered—just for a second. Enough to see each other's wide-eyed faces. Then—darkness again.
And then—a voice.
Not from the radio.
Not from outside.
From the book.
Jas nearly dropped it as the old pages seemed to tremble in their hands. The ink on the open page shifted, rearranging itself before their eyes.
New words. A warning.
“If you are reading this, it has already begun.”
A gust of wind slammed against the cellar door.
Ivy Mae’s grip tightened on the roof beams. “Hold on,” she whispered. “We can’t let it fly away.”
Outside, something groaned in the storm.
Something more than just the wind.
Then—static.
The old radio, thought to be long dead, crackled to life for just a moment.
Then, a voice.
“…classified communication from Washington… situation critical… investors fleeing… POTUS unaccounted for…”
Jas’s breath hitched. The words sounded too real. Too close to what they had just read.
Ivy Mae fumbled for the radio dial. The static cleared—just enough.
“…billionaire departures… financial collapse… U.S. dollar now at One Dollar to Four dollars and Forty-Four cents for the Canadian dollar… Wall Street in free fall…”
A beat of silence.
Then another voice. Shaken. Urgent.
“We have a leak. Someone—someone got the memo out.”
Jas’s fingers tightened around the book. “What memo?”
More static. Then—clear as day.
“White House classified memo—full economic and security collapse. Mar-a-Lago—under siege.”
And then—the radio died.
A deep, distant boom rippled through the sky.
The storm was no longer just a storm.
It had begun.
[To be continued…]