Hurricane Elena

A sudden storm changes the world as Nathan knew it. - Writer's Cramp Winner!

The thunderstorm came on suddenly. They called it Hurricane Elena. No one had expected it to intensify so quickly. One moment, the sky was gray and heavy with tension; the next, the wind screamed like a banshee, tearing through the city as if it were paper. Trees snapped like twigs, power lines collapsed in showers of sparks, and the ocean surged inward, swallowing the coastline whole.

Nathan had been watching the news when the power flickered and died, leaving him in eerie silence. The howling wind outside was the only thing that filled the void. Within minutes, his phone lost service, cutting him off from the outside world. The landline was dead. Water stopped flowing from the taps. The heat vanished with the electricity, leaving only the cold bite of the storm's wrath.

It took less than an hour for the world to change completely.

Nathan peered outside his apartment window, his heart pounding. The street was submerged under several feet of water. Cars bobbed like lifeless toys, their headlights still glowing beneath the murky flood. The wind ripped shingles from rooftops, and the heavy rain reduced visibility to nearly nothing. His world had shrunk to the four walls around him.

Then the building trembled.

The storm had weakened its foundation, and Nathan barely had time to brace himself before the walls groaned under the pressure. A section of the apartment complex collapsed, cutting him off from the neighboring units. Dust and debris filled the air, and when he called out, the only response was silence; except for one voice.

Mrs. Nelson, the elderly woman who lived a floor below, was crying for help. Her voice was frail, desperate. Nathan scrambled toward the wreckage, but the way was blocked. The collapse had sealed him inside his own space, and there was no safe way down. He shouted her name, told her to hold on, but her pleas grew weaker until, finally, they stopped.

Panic threatened to take hold, but he forced himself to think. He needed to act. He had some food in the pantry; a few canned goods, a half bag of rice, a loaf of bread that would go stale within days. No electricity meant no refrigeration. The gas stove might work, but without knowing if the pipes were intact, lighting it could be dangerous. He would have to ration everything carefully.

As night fell, the city was swallowed in darkness. The cold crept in, sinking into his bones. He layered every piece of clothing he had, wrapping himself in blankets, but it did little against the deep chill. Without news, without communication, he had no idea how widespread the damage was, how long this nightmare would last. Every sound outside sent his heart racing was it just the wind, or was someone out there, just as desperate as he was.

Days passed in a haze of survival. The silence was maddening. His body ached from the cold and the meager meals he rationed. With no running water, he collected rainwater in pots and pans, hoping it would be enough. At night, he burned candles sparingly, their flickering light barely enough to chase away the oppressive darkness.

The loneliness was the worst part.

Before the storm, Nathan had never considered how fragile civilization truly was. He had always taken the simple conveniences of life for granted. Now, he felt like he had stepped back in time, forced to live as people had centuries ago. Every decision mattered. Every resource was precious. There was no one to rely on but himself.

Then came the looters.

They must have found a way through the wreckage. As supplies dwindled, desperation turned people into predators. Nathan heard them moving through the complex at night, breaking into apartments, searching for anything of value. He barricaded his door with furniture and stayed awake, gripping a kitchen knife, heart hammering with fear. When the footsteps paused outside his door, he held his breath. The handle rattled. He braced himself.

Then they moved on.

However, hours later he heard them again. This time, they weren’t just moving through the building; they were on his floor. His stomach twisted with fear as he heard doors being forced open, furniture being overturned, people yelling. The sound grew closer, and soon, he heard them testing his door. He pressed his weight against it, knowing his barricade wouldn’t hold forever.

The relief of their departure earlier had been false hope. They would be back. And next time, they might not leave so easily.

The realization hit him hard; he couldn’t stay here. If the looters returned in greater numbers, if they were armed, he wouldn’t stand a chance. He needed to move, to find others, to see if there was any help beyond the shattered remains of his home.

With what little strength he had left, he packed a small bag: food, water, a flashlight, his last few matches. He wrapped his scarf tightly around his face and stepped outside into the wasteland Hurricane Elena had left behind.

The world was unrecognizable. The street he had once walked every day was littered with debris, drowned in filth and saltwater. Buildings had crumbled, their windows shattered, their contents spilled into the flooded streets. The smell of decay hung heavy in the air. But amidst the devastation, there was still life. Survivors like him, picking through the wreckage, searching for hope.

Nathan didn’t know what the future held, but he knew one thing; life as he had known it was gone. What came next would be a test of endurance, of resilience. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, into the unknown of his new reality.