Free The Luminosity Series (Book 1): Luminosity by J.M. Bambenek Page A

affection—a requirement that would
never be fulfilled.

8 BLACKOUT
     
     
    It
wasn’t until later that evening I broke out of my despair. I whipped my head
around, the wind howling through the open window. The implosion of particles pierced
through the quiet room, splitting the vase into pieces on the floor behind me.
Eager to stop the gusts, I yanked back the curtains to slam the window shut.
Upon looking up at the darkening sky, vertigo took me. I blinked, regaining my
balance beforekneeling down to pick up the
fragments scattered across the floor of the small hospital room—a space not
much different than the one I recovered in after the accident. But before I
could dispose of the broken glass, my wooziness returned. Shaky, brutal images
raced through my memory from that night—my windshield cracked, the microscopic
shards poking into my skin as Evan screamed my name. I wanted to wipe that
night from my memory for good, but I couldn’t.
    I
stumbled backward against the floor, retrieving my breath. Then, adding to my
disarray, the lights in the hallway flickered.
    Within
seconds, rapid chatter and footsteps rattled the floor. Between the gleams of
light, nurses and volunteers scrambled in every direction. In the darkness, a
red alarm flashed near the exit doors. My heart dropped as I shot up from the
floor. Around me, panicked voices and cries of hospital patients rung in my
ear. Newborns wailed from a few rooms away, the faint scream of a siren from
far-off penetrating the windows as dirt and debris scratched up against the
glass. Only when I cusped my hands against it could I see what was happening
outside. In the distance, a sharp beam circled through the dusty air, guiding
and signaling soldiers out of their watchtowers to prepare for an incoming
windstorm. The beacon radiated through the window as it passed, blinding me in
a lucent wave. And without warning, the lights went dark from one angle of the
hall to the other in a domino effect. Then, the gleam of a flashlight stung my
eyes.
    “Miss!
Get into position, now! We will evacuate you into the vault once the staircases
have cleared!” the guard demanded as he pushed me into the hallway. My body
collided against the floor after I plunged forward, failing to catch myself. I
recoiled from the pain as I crouched down next to the rest of the startled nursing
staff along the wall. Guards gathered in the center of the hallway, equipped
with their rifles ready. I gulped back the air as I squinted my eyes, placing
my hands behind my collar.
    “There’s
been a breach! Get them underground, now!” one of the guards yelled. I leaned
my head back up. The only thing lighting up the halls now was the dim glow of
the swirling auroras coming through the windows. With the wind, they spiraled
in the sky like vortexes, reflecting through the glass.
    After
five minutes of enduring shouts, sirens, and howling blasts, I was pulled to my
feet by a guard. I fought to catch my breath again, looking in every direction
as we evacuated to the fully occupied staircase that led into the basement. Desperate
cries came from the opposite direction. Fear for the infants took over me in an
instant. And once the guard was out of sight, I spun around to face the girl
behind me.
    “What
should we do about the newborns?” I asked within the continual chaos. Her face
froze in distress as she stood there, ignoring me, as if she were incapacitated.
“Hey! Isn’t someone going to do something?” My eyes widened as her silent fear
persisted.
    “It’s
not up to us,” she answered carefully, nodding to the guards in annoyance.
    “Somebody
has to help them. We can’t leave them up here if their lives are endangered.”
The girl looked furious.
    “And
if you think you’re the one to do it, you’re crazy. You disobey their commands,
you’ll end up just like your mother,” she said.
    “What
did you say to me?” I gave her a surprised glare.
    “Everyone
here knows who you are, Aubrey. Your