Chapter 3

Layla was still coughing when Henry walked in.

"There's no more food. Also, I found a charger if you need it, Layla," Henry held it out for her.

"Thanks," she seized it and he took a seat. She plugged in her phone. "I feel bad for taking their food."

"The water might be theirs, but I put those chips there a while ago," Rachel assured her.

"How long ago?" Layla checked the expiration date of the bag she was holding. "Goes bad...four days ago...ew."

"That was only a couple of days ago and it had never opened. It's fine." Rachel patted Layla's shoulder.

"I'm not hungry," Layla held it out to Rachel. "You can have it."

After handing her the chips, Layla leaned back, ready to relax when a crash emanated against the tin roof above her.

Instinctively, she covered her head and ducked. Someone screamed. Raindrops stuck her shirt to skin. Layla looked up. The metal roof had torn and branches poked through the ceiling. Pieces of wooden trusses had broken off and suddenly struck Layla. Plaster had been reduced to dust and that dust had engulfed the trio.

Coughing, Layla averted her eyes downward, grabbed the keys from the chair, and tried to stick them in the keyhole. Copper tinged as Layla's shaking hands wouldn't insert the key. She shoved her body against the door to steady herself and finally turned the key.

Bursting outside, they all took deep breaths of untainted air.

Layla wiped her sopping hair from her face and glanced at her friends. Rachel was shaking, obscured by shadow. Henry was sitting on the ground. He covered his face with his hand. "My head is throbbing."

Layla dropped her head downwards once more. Her chest rattled and hiccuped as she tried to steady her breathing. Water dripped from her forehead and the hard, stone floor tugged her jeans as she moved to sit. Gales froze her back and nipped her face. Time slipped by as she zoned out, refusing to believe reality.

Uncontrollable shivers snapped Layla back into reality and made her take note of her surroundings. Henry was still huddled on the ground. And Rachel...well, Rachel was gone. Layla scanned the pool area. Thunder clashed as her eyes fell upon Rachel in the bushes. "Rachel?"

Layla ran towards her, sliding on the slick pool deck.

Heaves racked Rachel's body and Layla arrived to hold her hair back. She began to rub Rachel's back while blinking raindrops out of her own eyes.

Rachel stopped shaking.

"Rachel?" Layla shook her. "Rachel?"

Layla turned her friend to look at her. Rachel's eyes drifted to the side. "Rachel!"

Rachel slowly looked at Layla. "Whahmm?"

"No, no, no." Layla shivered but her friend was still. That wasn't a good sign. "Henry?"

Layla looked behind her, but Henry hadn't moved from his previous position. "Henry!"

Stress racked her body and she began to cry. Her friend's going to die and so is her crush. And she is too! No! This is not the time. "Henry! Help me or your sister will die!"

Hypothermia seemed to have taken hold of Rachel. If it took hold of Henry too, and he became apathetic, Layla didn't know what she would do.

Wet, sloshing footsteps arrived next to her. "What's wrong with Rachel?"

"She has hypothermia and we need to get her inside the poolhouse."

"There's a tree through the roof."

"What about the kitchen or the bathroom? C'mon, Henry, she doesn't have long!"

Layla grabbed her arms and instructed Henry to grab her legs.

Together, they hauled Rachel into the kitchen.

There was no tree through this room's roof and it seemed decently lukewarm. Layla and Henry gently set Rachel on the ground. She almost sat her in a chair, but then she remembered to keep hypothermic victims horizontal.

Struck by her memories of summers past, Layla rummaged through the drawers. A couple of summers ago, her friend had jumped into the pool and forgot he had his wallet in his pocket. Turns out, this happened frequently enough that the staff had a hairdryer to blow dry his photos, IDs, and cash. Now Layla just needed to find it. She checked through all the drawers—empty, so she opened the cabinets.

There it was, in its compact green glory, a hairdryer. It was at the top of the cabinet, so she had to climb on top of the counter to reach it.

"Get as many dry blankets and pillows from the lobby as you can," Layla said as she plugged in the hairdryer. Thankfully, they still had electricity.

Once Layla had tugged off Rachel's soaked sweatpants and hoodie, leaving Rachel in her dry leotard, she put the hairdryer's setting to low and began gently moving the warm hairdryer back and forth over Rachel's torso.

Henry returned with blankets in hand.

"Wrap her up with those and use the hairdryer to dry any wet spots," Layla advised as she left the room.

She walked into the main room and found her phone covered in raindrops but still relatively dry on a chair. She grabbed it and turned it on. Happiness warmed her when it powered on but soon left when she realized there was no phone service or internet.

She beat back the frustration as she hurried back into the kitchen.

She'll just have to go off of the things she's heard on the morning radio. It shouldn't be hard, she heard it on the radio every winter.

Okay, okay, think hard...first one! Move the victim very gently. Layla cringed. Step one butchered.

Next was to bring the victim somewhere warm and get rid of wet clothes. Done.

Layla used a hair tie to draw Rachel's wet hair into a bun away from her face.

What else? Probably just to gently warm the person up.

"Henry, use the hairdryer to heat this up," Layla handed him a blanket.

He nodded and began to do so. "Is your phone charged?"

"Yeah, but no service."

"That doesn't matter. Can I see it?"

Layla handed Henry the phone as she began to work on putting the warm blankets around Rachel's torso and heart.

The dial tone droned in the background as Layla pressed her ear to Rachel's chest. Her heartbeat was faint but regular. Layla could only hope it'd stay that way.