Chapter 2
After that day, our city was freed from the chaos, set apart from the rest of the world. Some, many, called the horrors that enveloped our planet the dawn of the apocalypse. The result of years, decades, and centuries of sin: Noah's flood rebirthed, fire and brimstone redefined for the new age. And why not? It explained that which we did not understand. There had never been a majority of people content to be killed, their reality destroyed, for no reason. Others called it coincidence that our country, every corner of the world, was blanketed in chaos. From unrelenting rain to electrical storms, from tornados that obliterated cities to hurricanes that submerged them: the world was crumbling. Only a scarce few, desperate to keep a cool head during the crisis and deny what was beyond them, called it coincidence. Everything was disintegrating, slipping beyond the realm of our specie’s control, everything except our insignificant little town. We'd never been included on a map, now it seemed we’d be the only thing left to include.

It still rained.
Every day the news, or what could be deciphered through the static, would overflow with tales of another city slipping from the map, along with an estimated death toll for the day. There was no peace, no sanctuary, not even for a moment. It wasn't long before people caught wind of our salvation and wanted a chance to escape the chaos. Settlers City: the place that could keep you alive. Any houses unoccupied, even those not fit to live in, were awarded to the highest bidder for ten times their worth. There’s nothing like desperation to incite corruption, even as the value of our soggy, tattered currency began to disintegrate. Others who knew relatives in town, remembered friends, vaguely recalled a milkman from their childhood, found a way to stay with them. Others still just took to living in hotels. No one would serve them, but by paying their unreasonable day-to-day charge, they could buy protection.
Eventually Settlers’ citizens grew annoyed, after all, we were the blessed ones and didn't want to share our salvation, or risk outsiders contaminating our obviously impeccable slate of karma. After town meetings and property battles, everyone was on edge. And supplies were dwindling.
The pounding of it put me to sleep every night, sending me thoughts and dreams of him. Who was he? Had he truly stopped the rains? Was it possible or had it been just an illusion congealing before my eyes among the remnants of shock from near death? Was he even on the roof at all?  He couldn't have saved my life, spared my city; it was impossible.  I wanted to see him again, to know whether these wild thoughts were even plausible, but weeks slipped passed and I began to lose any certainty.  The pendant kept me hopeful.  I scarcely took it off. The necklace had become my most prized possession. Regardless of the destruction that surrounded me, it kept me calm.  Thoughts of him,  conscious or otherwise, kept me calm.
“Bobby. I have the suitcase ready. Where’s your sleeping bag?”
“I put it by the door like you said.”
I looked my brother up and down, “I’m going to get you your other coat. It’s warmer.”
“I wanna leave. We’ll be late.”
“With everything that's been going on with the planet, I think they’ll understand if we’re a little late.”
He was young and occasionally I would see him look to the window and tense up, unintentionally recalling the storms, the first nights when it was as if the wrath of heaven was outside of the front door.
“Ok, let’s go.”

Our Uncle and Aunt lived in the next town over and the growing unrest in our small town was making me nervous. Two incidents had broken out already over property and with the majority of the police off protecting their own families, there was little being done to keep the peace. Scanton was still close enough to our precious home to be somewhat protected, but much too far to be safe. Their city harbored a simple plague of furious winds, speeds wavering between 50 and 100 mph, but once all the towering trees scattered throughout the city had fallen, they were relatively protected, as long as they avoided the windows and were fortunate enough to have a securely fastened roof.
I paid a neighbor we could trust a large sum from our emergency funds to guard our house.  Knowing our parents weren't even in the country, they’d offered to lend a hand if the need arose.  They were a good sort, returning borrowed lawn tools and attending our barbecues, though the sudden emergence of the patriarch’s hunting rifle collection into the living room made me nervous and served as the inspiration for me to turn down their offers of sanctuary in their fortress.  All over town, people were placing defense above rebuilding, leaving basements and first floors seeping while stacking water-damaged couches and tables against the doors.  I wanted to get my brother somewhere that the people were still too petrified to turn to violence.  Having just turned seven, he was scared enough already.  I wasn't sure how many more days he could take of huddling together on a mattress on the living room floor, and I didn't know how many more nights I could take of him crying himself to sleep, being helpless to ease his fears.  I loaded a few precautions (two first aid kits, several blankets, a lantern, the extra gas our parents kept in the garage for the lawnmower, etc.), bolted the door, and boarded our small, silver Honda. We stepped out of our sanctuary and into the real world.
I didn't want to hear the sound of the crushing winds, reminding me of the confusion that invaded my thoughts and the destruction that surrounded us, I didn’t want to see the look of apprehension on my brother’s face, so I put in the soundtrack of an animated movie he liked and allowed him to turn the volume up ridiculously loud. The highway leading away from the city was deserted, though occasionally a car, overladen with passengers, would pass in the opposite direction. I half-heartedly gazed into the rearview mirror, back at our little town, just in time to see dark clouds begin to suffocate the surrounding sky. In shock, I turned abruptly and the car turned with me. My tires skirted the graveled edge of the road.
“Eden!”
My brother’s panicked voice called me back and I slammed the breaks. He looked at me and whimpered. Leaning over I pulled him into a hug and looked back at Settler’s City. My hand found its way to the pendant resting on my chest as I stared speechlessly at our paradise, now rocked with newly formed tempests in only a few short moments. Ahead of us, the winds were dying down. I held my sparkling pendant up to my eyes. It had changed: the jewel was no longer the flowing blue of water, but a swirling white- like wind.
Speechless and stunned, my thoughts were unintelligible. It had been no coincidence that the chaos had stopped only over our city; it had stopped only over me. My mind was spinning, I needed someone to tell me I was merely trapped in the folds of my imagination, for my brother to look up at me and explain that it was only an incomprehensible dream from under my bed or the back of my closet. With my thoughts racing into a frenzied focus as quickly as the wind had just arisen moments ago, I knew through the surreal haze that it was true. I had been given a gift, something to redefine value, and it was up to me to unlock it.