Storms Ahead

The convoy pushes on, tires humming against the ruined road. Dark clouds roll overhead, threatening to unleash a storm. 
          “Seriously?” Norio mutters in the cab of his SUV, glancing at Cinder and Dosei. “I’m so sick of the rain.” 
          The first drops come light, a faint patter on the roof. Then the drizzle builds into steady rain. Within minutes, the sky opens, unleashing a full downpour. 
          In Rubble and Halo’s SUV, the missing windshield turns the cab into a torrent. Sheets of water lash their faces, blinding them. Halo squints against the spray, clutching the dash as Rubble grips the wheel tight.
          They can barely see the other SUV ahead of them, only the faint red glow of Norio’s taillights flickering through the curtain of rain.
          “Just stay on him,” Halo shouts over the storm. 
          Rubble nods, leaning forward, eyes narrowed. But the road veers sharply and the taillights vanish from sight. 
          “Where’d they—” 
          The SUV smashes through a guardrail with a screech of metal and plunges down the slope. The world tilts, ground and sky rolling together as the vehicle rolls. 
          It slams into the hillside and comes to rest upside down. 
          The overturned SUV creaks, wheels spinning uselessly in the air. Inside, Rubble hangs upside down, seatbelt cutting into his chest. He fumbles with the buckle until it clicks free, dropping hard to the roof. 
          He groans, then looks up at Halo, still strapped in above him. Rainwater seeps through the broken frame, dripping steadily onto her face. 
          “Unfasten your belt,” he says, reaching his hands up. “I’ll catch you.” 
          She hesitates, then clicks the buckle. Gravity pulls her down. Rubble breaks her fall as she crashes into him and they tumble back together. Halo lands sprawled across his chest. 
          Her cheeks flush as she pushes off quickly, sliding to his side. “Sorry,” she mutters. 
          They take a moment to breathe. They’re alive, but separated from the convoy. Stranded. 
          The rain drums harder against the SUV’s crumpled shell, the sound deafening. The vehicle is clearly done for, axle bent, frame twisted, engine drowning in mud and water. 
          They crawl out through the shattered side window. Clothes plaster to their bodies, hair dripping into their faces. The storm is merciless, wind ripping at their soaked clothes, thunder cracking above them. Lightning slashes the sky, trees bending and groaning in the gusts.           When they reach their feet, they see the slope they’ve slid down, the city looming behind them. Ahead stretches only open field, dark and endless. 
          Another flash of lightning ignites the horizon, just long enough to reveal a vast, swirling funnel tearing across the distance. A tornado, black against the strobing sky. 
          Halo stares, frozen. Rubble swallows hard, voice low and steady despite the dread pressing down on them. 
          “…We need to move.” 
          They scramble up the slick hillside, mud clinging to their boots, and flee toward the jagged outline of the city. Lightning splits the sky in furious bursts. Rain cascades down the ruined streets, pooling in the cracks, flashing silver with every strike. 
          As they sprint, debris begins to tear past them, whipped into the air. 
          They reach a narrow street lined with boarded windows and barred doors. In their panic, they rattle handle and pound on the boards, but everything is locked tight. The tornado’s funnel looms behind them, bearing down. 
          “Rubble!” Halo gasps. 
          He’s already moving, pointing. “There!” 
          At the back of a building, half-hidden by a collapsed fence, are cellar doors. They vault the fence, water splashing around their ankles, and throw themselves at the doors. The hinges groan as Rubble wrenches them open. 
          Wind surges in, nearly tearing the metal from his grip. His muscles strain as he forces them closed, the storm clawing for them. With one final heave, the latch slams shut. 
          Inside, the sound of the storm echoes in the tiny the room. The cellar is pitch black. Halo reaches blindly, fingers finding Rubble’s sleeve. She grips tight. Their ragged breathing is the only sound besides the fury outside. 
          Slowly, their eyes adjust. Rusted shelves line the walls, stacked with dust-caked cans and cloudy jars of pickled vegetables. A warped wooden table sits in the center. 
          “Are you okay?” Rubble asks, wringing water from his shirt. 
          Halo lowers herself onto the table, exhaling hard. “Yeah,” she says, though her voice trembles. “And you?” 
          “Never been better.” He tries for a smile, weak but real. 
          The metal doors rattle violently above them, shaking with each blast of wind. Rubble steps away from the rattling hinges, moving closer to Halo instead. 
          “How are we going to find the others?” Halo asks softly. 
          “Well, first we’ll search aimlessly, screaming their names so every Skelloid in the city knows exactly where we are.” Rubble smirks. 
          “Rubble!” She pushes his arm, half-annoyed, half-relieved at the levity. 
          He catches her hand before she can pull it away, holding it close. His expression shifts. “You’re healing really fast.” 
          Halo blinks. She looks down. A thin coating has begun to form over the metal of her fingers, soft and pale. “What is it?” 
          “Your skin,” Rubble says gently. “It’s growing back.” 
          Her chest tightens. “It’s been so hectic today, I completely forgot about all of this.” Her voice dips, a little disappointed to be reminded of what she is. 
          Rubble steps closer, bracing his hands on the table, his body pressing in with her legs caught on either side of him. His eyes hold hers with quiet conviction. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you are.” 
          Halo’s breath hitches. She looks into his blue eyes, searching for doubt but finding none. “I… missed you,” she admits, stumbling over the words. “While you were gone.” 
        Rubble leans closer, pulling her toward him. His voice lowers, steady, certain. “I came back for you. Now that I know you, I don’t think I can stay away.” 
          The space between them dissolves. His lips brush hers, then claim them fully. The kiss is a rush of relief, something she hadn’t realized she’d been waiting for. Her fingertips trail up his arms, over his shoulders, to the sharp lines of his jaw. The kiss deepens, hungry with all the words they haven’t said. 
         A thunderous crack tears the moment apart. The cellar doors burst open with a howl of wind. The tornado is closer, its roar filling the shelter. 
          They scramble into the corner, shielding themselves as glass jars topple from the shelves, shattering across the concrete floor. 
          Wind whips through the opening, snapping at their clothes. A tarp at their feet flaps violently, sliding from beneath their boots. It peels back to reveal a set of wooden planks hidden beneath them. 
          “What’s that?” Halo yells over the roar of the storm. 
          Rubble pulls the tarp aside, revealing a trap door. He glances up at her and manages a quick smile before he swings it open. A ladder disappears into darkness below. 
          “I’ll check it out.” He lowers himself in and vanishes, leaving Halo with the wind tearing at her braids. A long moment passes before his voice echoes back up. “Come down!” 
          She carefully steps onto the rungs, the ladder slick with condensation, and descends into the dark. The storm’s howl fades with every step until she drops into a tunnel. Metal walls stretch forward, coated in peeling paint and streaked with rust. Water drips steadily from the ceiling. 
         They walk together quietly. Halo’s thoughts drift back to the kiss, replaying it in her mind. Was it just the storm, the fear, the moment pressing them together? Or did it mean more? She can’t stop wondering how Rubble feels and if he’s thinking about it too. 
         The tunnel seems to stretch on without end, every turn looking the same as the last, until Halo wonders if they’re moving forward at all or trapped in some looping corridor. 
          At the far end, another ladder rises into shadow. Halo climbs first and pushes herself into a storage room lined with neat rows of shelves. Dust coats the boxes stacked high, labels faded. Rubble clambers up behind her. 
          He pulls one box down and tilts it open. Small metal parts shift inside, clinking together. “Replacement pieces,” he murmurs. “For androids.” His expression darkens, puzzled. 
          Halo opens the door. Rain continues to pour as she steps outside into a sprawling compound. Military buildings stretch in every direction, their walls marked with unfamiliar logos. 
          “Where are we?” she whispers. 
          They wander through the mud, boots squelching, rain hammering their shoulders. A single flower pushes through the muck near a discarded android corpse, its frame half-buried in the road. 
         They turn a corner and stop short. 
         A massive ship looms on a landing pad, its steel hull gleaming wet in the storm. 
         “Why is this here?” Halo breathes. 
         Rubble studies the vessel. “Maybe this is how they moved the healthy humans to CC1-Alpha. Or how they shipped empty android bodies.” 
          “I guess that makes sense,” she says softly, eyes tracing the ship’s towering frame. 
          A faint scraping sound interrupts her thoughts. Metal on stone. They both freeze. 
          Rubble pulls her against the wall, spears ready. Shadows stretch across the ground as the sound grows closer. 
          With a sharp motion, Rubble bursts out, spear leveled. 
          Another spear meets his point instantly. 
          Thorn lowers the weapon, his dark eyes narrowing. “How did you get here?” he demands, confused. 
         Rubble doesn’t flinch. “I could ask you the same thing.” 
         “We came through a tunnel.” Halo adds. 
         Benji saunters up behind Thorn, his swagger intact despite the storm. “We used a car,” he says with a crooked grin. “Much easier. You should try it next time.”