The Storm

Classes ended for Jon. He had been the first to arrive in the clubroom and took his usual seat in the back of the class that was unoccupied for the span of their activities, at least until the next club had hold of the space. He kept thinking back to what Leslie had said. She was not known for overextending gags, or taking jokes to their extremes so he could not help but feel a measure of validity to her words. He wanted it to be a joke, but the wrestle-maniac, if nothing else, was astute. Despite her outer visage looking akin to a villain from a comic book, or in her case a wrestling character: she was pretty smart and one of the few who was here on scholarship. Her family owned a farm out of town. She was raised around tractors and pigs. No one was more down to earth. As he sat there in the dead silence of the room, with naught but the old, fluorescent lights humming overhead, Jon couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. The buzzing of the lights grew higher in pitch. He looked up from the desk, eyes slowly drifting from the light before -- pop! A low, sputtering hum before the lights went out, the audible sound of breakers tripping as the room and all of the hall became pitch black.

Pushing from his seat Jon rushed towards the windows, looking around. “What? A power outage?”

Power outages weren’t terribly uncommon in town, especially during inclement weather. Generators were a mainstay at many of the homes and farms that dotted the down as the power grid was old and oft was unable to keep up with many of the modern conveniences such as personal computers and heating systems. It took a small surge to take out a block and it looks like that was what had happened. From his place he could see a few bodies spilling from the darkened campus buildings, their forms gathering in the front steps. They seemed to be pointing off, the sound of talking becoming muffled cacophony as the collective bodies became excited. Jon looked up and out towards the woods, which separated the campus from the mountain paths and roads that led to the farmlands. He was taken aback, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, as the swell of clouds in the distance made clear what had them worried. The deep green hue that painted the edges of the clouds made clear enough what sort of storm had been stirring up.

“Jon!” The familiar voice of Leslie rang out from the door. He looked back, only for the woman to thumb behind her as a river of students hurried past her. “We’re being sent to the shelter in the basement.” She figured she would find him here. He was a man of habit and this club had been a major part of his life since he started university. “Come on!”

Jon sputtered for a moment. “R-right!” He hurried to collect his backpack, pushing his doodle covered notebook and pencil haphazardly into the pack and shoved his phone into his back pocket.

As he reached the threshold of the door Leslie moved to hook her arm over his shoulder to walk with him. She had a smile on her face, this sort of situation a welcome normality with finals having pushed students to their brink. It was an adventure for many! The atmosphere was hardly fearful. Morbid curiosity warbled up through conversations as teachers attempted to herd the students into the basement. It was the most solid place in the school and served as an emergency shelter when dangerous weather was imminent. As the last of them were packed in some noticed that friends of theirs were missing. As Jon looked around he too would notice there was no sign of Nathan or Nikki who had been out in the fields at this time. He felt a nudge on his side. Looking up Leslie was grinning down at them.

“Don’t worry about your crew. Nat and Nick are probably in the cleared out gym.” It made sense as it was closer to the field.

“I wonder what’s happening -- is it a tornado?” He was never good with storms. The anxiety rolled in his belly as he tried blocking out the more intrusive thoughts of more immediate doom. “It can’t be that bad, right?”

Leslie hummed and laughed, patting her hand onto his chest. “Nah, but the windows on campus are really old. They’re probably worried that it’ll shatter and hurt folk.” It was probably the worst thing about the old campus buildings: their fragility. They were not designed to last this long or to exist in weather this bad.

There was a lot to consider, but it grew more difficult to hear one’s personal thoughts as the winds began to howl. The building shook and the excitable murmurs of the students reached their peak as the crowded basement began to undulate with the moving bodies, anxious to leave the space, curious to see the storm, and many more hoping to see some real damage when they got out. In particular Jon caught the voice of one of the students that hung out with their club. He was a fellow Jon did not keep close company with because of his grossly antagonistic tendencies. He always went above and beyond to attempt to get a reaction out of folk by interjecting with such outrageous comments that often left people feeling uncomfortable and out of place.

“Yeah, if they’re in the old gym someone might end up with a steel girdle slammed into them.” His words caused some people to groan, or angrily complain.

Jon has since learned to pay no mind to him. In fact if he took a moment to think on it: wasn’t that a scene from a popular horror movie? It had a lot of parts to it, so he wasn’t quite sure which it was. He knows he had seen it more than once, a natural movie maniac himself. But before he could think further on it a crashing sound: a violent clap of thunder overhead was so loud that it had drowned out many of the chattering chipmunks among the grown, silencing many more who were starting to feel the anxiety. It was becoming palatable and Jon was finding it harder and harder to forget Molly. Seeing her -- doesn’t really cause death, right? Someone shouted.

"Who groped me!?" The feminine voice bellowed out with a pitch that could only be described as grating.

“Move you pervert!” A deeper voice called, “Leave her alone!” The male, presumably her boyfriend, accosted.

“H-hey, it was an accident!” The stouter man responded as he adjusted his glasses. “I can’t see with all you giants crowding!” He complained.

“Then get taller, nerd.” Another aggressively added.

The arguments started from the back. It was too crowded for people to be comfortable for long. Leslie and Jon looked back, the people who were nearer the door starting to feel the push from the back. The crowd slowly started to inch forward towards the door as people were hit by a wave of anger and claustrophobia. Those amidst the aggressors felt the intense push first and tried to get out of the way, but as they did it pushed those in the middle already feeling the heat of the crowd and the invasive breathe of their neighbor: to try and squeeze to the front, but there was no room as professors attempted to calm the movement, only to get pushed themselves as some tried rushing the door. It was getting harder to push back the wave, only for a silence to overcome the crowd as voices hushed each other. Something was going on just above them. A stampede of feet cascaded across the floor above, shouting. It had gotten so quiet in the basement that one could hear a pin drop.