Solar Storms: Dawn
an excerpt

David Flourens

David groaned, back screaming in pain. “Wha...” Did they shoot me with a tranquilizer? His right hand clumsily moved to the welt on his back, just below his right shoulder-blade. He half cringed in anticipation of more blows to come when he moved, but... nothing. They had unceremoniously dropped him on a hard stone floor, minus his shoes. Slowly, he rolled around and opened his eyes.

It was a small, maximum security prison cell – the door was sealed, though there was a grate open to the sky some eight feet up. A toilet and a washbasin... but no bed. Is that even legal? He clumsily got himself to his feet to get a better look around the room. He could hear the waters of the Long Island Sound echoing through the grate, as if close by.

Wait, the hurricane!? His face flushed pale at the thought, slamming his fist on the steel door. “HEY! I'M AWAKE!” The door vibrated, leaving a long echo sounding throughout the room.

He waited for several minutes, the wind getting noticeably louder, and the sky dimming. He backed up to the wall, running to the door to try and kick it in... or at least catch someone's attention. All he earned for his troubles was a louder echo and a bruising heel. “HEY! I'M STILL IN HERE!”

Another few minutes passed, and David felt a rush, anxiety welling up within him. He started slamming his fist on the door in a rhythmic fashion, once every few seconds. THOOM... THOOM... THOOM... THOOM...

He lost track of how long he was pounding, his thoughts wandering, trying to think of where he screwed up, or who told on him. Something I gave to Wendy? No, the hospital relied too much on his supply. A lot of hospitals relied on 'formula pirates' to keep costs down. But it wasn't like the network was traceable – there were millions in the 'underground', but they came after him. Besides Wendy, the only people that knew were his parents...

David paused at the thought, his mind adrift in a haze at the betrayal. His body was shaking like it was freezing, but so much blood was rushing through his veins he felt like he was dying of heat exhaustion.

He wasn't entirely sure how long it was raining by the time he noticed it, though it stopped shortly afterwards. The room got brighter again, before darkening only a few minutes later, and the rain started again. He slowly sank to the ground, hugging his knees and watching the grate.

David was quivering – eyes peeled open, too much adrenaline rushing through his veins to really cry. Eventually, only the occasional flash of lightning brought enough light to see by, and the pounding howl of the wind blowing into the grate drowned out any noise he could hope to make now. The cell filled with the pungent smell of polluted sea water as it was blown in, and worse smells as sewage began to bubble back up through the toilet.

He wrapped his shirt around his face to keep the smell out, rising to his feet as the water began to puddle on the floor. For whatever good it might do. The spray of water became heavier and more constant, the occasional leaf or other piece of debris adding to the mixture. A large gout of water smashed through the grate, receding quickly, but David let down his head, knowing what would soon follow.

Fleeting thoughts danced through his mind as the storm surge poured into his cell. A promise to Wendy, anger at his parents, a morbid thought of hope that, with the rising water, he might be able to force his way through the grate.

Hope gave him energy, at least, forgetting hunger or thirst. It was some time before the surge water lifted him close enough to the ceiling that he could pull himself along it, fighting his way to the grate. Soon underwater, he took the steel bars in his hands, thrashing and pulling with all his might.

Of course, they did not budge, no matter how he tried to brace himself. Every strain and tug made him lose more air, more seconds. No longer able to hold his breath, he inhaled the seawater – surprisingly comfortable, compared to the stinging in his eyes, the cold, the pain in his back...

And the dark, morbid thought that, of all the things he believed might happen to him in life, it never occurred to him that he would die alone.

Wendy

David hated flowers. She was bringing them anyway. Wendy would honor David the way she felt was best appropriate... At least no one dared repeat that gods-damned joke about her being the hurricane. Not to her face, at least.

Wendy knelt in over the grave site, adding her bouquet to the mass already present, gently tracing her finger over his name, a sort of silent prayer, only for him to hear. The only way for her to truly touch him again, the sum of his physical presence on Earth now represented by a cold, polished granite tombstone..

DAVID FLOURENS
2003-2025

“You didn't die alone, you know.” She started speaking, not entirely sure why. She didn't really believe in ghosts or an afterlife. Wendy passed it off as speaking to the boy that was left within herself. Like that would make her seem to have a better grasp on her sanity. “There were eight of you in that prison, all isolated. You weren't supposed to die – or, at least, so they claim.”

She sighed a small bit. “I still blame them, of course.” She shook her head in moderate disbelief. “Apparently, they wanted to interrogate you, to get your encryption codes out of you.” A smile crept to her lips. “The storm brought down their helicopter and killed them too. Imagine that.” She looked down, fingers now gently tracing out the years of his life. “I figured... after this, you would go Midwest, with the others. I would finish my degree, tell my parents to piss off, and run out after you. It would be like we promised.”

Her lip was bleeding, and she drew in a long, cold breath. “Things don't always go as planned, they say.” Wendy's finger tapped the marble lightly. “When bad things happen, someone has to bear that burden, they say.” She was shaking lightly, her voice quivering. Her next word came out only as a gurgle, a painful, scratching lump that forced its way out of her throat.

Face erupting into tears, Wendy threw her arms around the tombstone, sending flowers and their petals flying airborne, falling about her and her love, the gentle wind carrying many of them back to her. “Why us?”

After regaining a sense of composure, she pulled herself back a bit, staring at the ridiculously geeky epitaph. The sight of it made her shudder inwardly.

“Information wants to be free.”

Her parents had raised a martyr, and had now taken up the cause of their son. David was not the most eloquent man, true, but he did occasionally say something original. Millions of his words were of scattered across thousands of databases on the Internet, and his thrice-damned parents had to choose five that weren't even his.

“There were protests in Hartford in your name, and the others.” She tilted her head a bit. “Not all of them for you... or us.” She bit her lip again. “Saying the same things. We're an affront to God, but he's speechless with anger right now, so they'll speak for him.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “It turned into a riot.”

“The jokes about this being a civil war really... aren't funny any longer.” She sighed again, calming herself somewhat by tracing his name with her other hand. “Do you remember? The night we saw the falling star...” She took a deep breath again. “Our conversation drifted, somehow, from that meteor, to our future.”

“The reason I came here... was to talk about our promise.” Her voice grew slightly firmer, more confident. “That if we were ever separated, we would find each other.”

She closed her eyes, bending her head down. “I know I failed you... I can't hate myself enough for that. Should have sought you out, rescued you...” She shook her head at the tangent, and swallowed hard.

“David... love... I am not going to forget. I don't care how long it takes, I'm not giving up.” Her voice shook with her, and she grabbed the headstone again. “If I have to tear a hole in Eternity itself, I will find a way. I don't care what or how long it takes...”

“I will find you.”