Non-classifiable
One by one, we raised our flashlight beams to the underside of the roof. It was dark. But even in the dim light, we could see that the darkness was moving. It undulated like "the wave" at a hockey game. The cockroaches protested our entry by releasing their hold on the ceiling and flying down at us.
"I'm outta here," Caleb said, heading for the doorway.
"Not so fast," I said, my fingers closing tightly on his collar. "Pull your hood up, Caleb, and get on that ladder. I'll go last."
I hoped that last sentence didn't sound too bitter. I also hoped that all the weights I'd been pumping would help me haul my nonworking leg up. I gripped the ladder beneath my three buddies and hung my cane on one of the lower rungs.
My breathing was heavy, my hands were sweaty. But with one pull after another, I kept climbing.
The rhythm of the motion lulled him. The water felt warm and comforting, like he was wrapped in protective arms. But he had to press on. Had to get away. Had to fight the urge to let the water pull him down.
Distant Dominion
