Now, alone on the roof, Lucas had no idea if they were alive.
He didn’t know if help was coming.
All he knew was that Max was breathing, warm against his chest, and that as long as he held on, at least one thing in his world was still intact.
Cold, Fear, and Waiting
The rain didn’t ease. It came sideways, stinging his face, blurring his vision. His legs ached from crouching, his fingers numb from gripping Max too tightly, afraid that even loosening his hold for a second might take everything from him.
Thunder cracked overhead, so loud it made the roof tremble. Lucas flinched as another surge of water slammed into the house. The entire structure groaned, lifting slightly before settling again.
Max whimpered and pressed his nose into Lucas’s chest.
“It’s okay,” Lucas murmured, though his voice shook. “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He stood unsteadily and waved his free arm toward distant flashes of light — rescue helicopters somewhere beyond the thick storm clouds.
“Help!” he screamed into the wind. “Please! We’re here!”
For a moment, a helicopter appeared, its lights flickering through the rain. Hope surged in Lucas’s chest — then vanished as the aircraft drifted away, swallowed by darkness.
