The Storm — Theodore Stroud
CHAPTER 1: Mary
Mary lifted up her tank top and gently rested a hand on her toned stomach. She sighed, gingerly tracing circles around her belly button. The hairs on her naval stood on end, stimulated by her soft caress.
It was coming. And soon.
Though she didn’t know if she would be one of the women affected, the chances were likely. Mary was only 20, the prime age for the storm. She couldn’t feel any changes yet, but it was too early to expect such things. The anticipation was almost worse than what was to come. Almost.
As a junior in college, Mary had strong career aspirations. She wanted to open her own business, be her own boss in a male-dominated world. As an intern during her freshman year, her superiors had leered over her, admiring her lean curves. More than once she had caught her boss checking out her firm ass as she had bent over to pick papers up off the floor. It made her sick to be so objectified.
That had been two years ago. Mary considered herself lucky to have avoided the effects of the last two storms. Some of her friends had not been so lucky. Sure they were happy now, more so than they ever were before. But she still shuddered at the complete shift that had come over them. They were hardly the same people. Would she notice the changes? Would she gracefully accept the changes that would most likely overtake her in a few short hours? Or would she always be internally screaming with no way to take back control of who she once was?
A shiver ran down her spine. With annoyance at herself, she yanked her shirt back down to cover her belly. The sky outside was darkening with black, heavy clouds. An electric current seemed to hum in the air. The world felt both still and chaotic at the same time. She was in the eye of the storm and she knew it.
Her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a text message. It was from Janelle, her friend from business school.
“Are you still coming over tonight?”
Mary hesitated for a moment, her finger hovering over the screen. She slowly typed her reply.
“Yep. Still on. See you in a bit.”
A week ago, when the news had announced the approach of the storm, Natalie and Mary planned a party. Only girls were invited of course. If it had been a co-ed party, the night would probably end in disaster for them. No, this was their last-ditch effort to defend themselves from the nightmare that crawled toward them. If they could somehow watch out for each other, prevent each other from doing something stupid while under the storm’s power, then maybe, just maybe, they would survive this year with their wits about them.
The phone buzzed again.
“I invited Alexis and Courtney as well. Hope that’s ok. They’re freaking out pretty bad.”
Mary grimaced. Courtney and Alexis were not her favorite people. They were also going to school with her, though she couldn’t quite figure out how or why. They weren’t exactly the brightest girls on campus. Alexis was tall and blonde, with an amazing pair of breasts that she showcased in tight shirts and low-cut blouses. She giggled nervously at everything and was too quick to agree with what you were saying. Alexis seemed to lack any sort of personality. In fact, Mary wasn’t sure why she was so afraid of the storm. It seemed perfect for a girl like her.
On the other hand, Courtney was abrasive and cold. She was the typical mean-girl stereotype from high school. She had long, red hair that was always pulled tight in a ponytail. Courtney bossed Alexis around like she was her crony, and for some reason Alexis always obeyed. In the past, Mary had always walked away from conversations with Courtney feeling agitated and annoyed. She had a way of turning everything you said into an argument, and loved playing devil’s advocate.
Mary sighed and pocketed her phone. She supposed that they should stick together, even if the other girls weren’t necessarily her best friends in the world. The storm was no time to hold petty grievances against other women.
She gathered her things and made for the door. Mary stopped suddenly and walked back into her bedroom. She felt foolish as she opened up her nightstand drawer, digging out a silver cross her mother had given to her as a child. Mary was not at all religious, despite her mother’s efforts, but tonight felt like a night to maybe give the all-mighty a chance. She draped the necklace around her neck and fastened the clasp. The cross hung delicately between her perky breasts.
“Here goes nothing,” she thought miserably.
Mary walked with fake confidence to the door. She stopped, looked at her apartment, wondering if she would ever find her back here. Shaking her head, she grasped the knob and made her way out to the street.