Trapped!

It was a horribly hot day in late June. Lila had spent the morning inside on the phone to her landlady regarding the roses growing up the side of the house. Lila lived in a two story house that had been converted into two studio apartments, one on the top floor, and one on the bottom. She occupied the bottom apartment, and the wild roses growing up the side of the house were now covering her living room window. Normally, Lila liked flowers, but not when they obstructed her view of the driveway.

The landlady told Lila that she would have the roses cut down by the end of next week, the same thing she had said about the matter for the past two months. Grumbling, Lila had hung up the phone and decided that she would just do the job herself. After all, it was a nice day, although hot, and she had nothing better to do.

She went outside and around to the back of the house, where the entrance to the underground storm cellar was, hoping to find some hedge trimmers or other tool to make the job easier. But there was a padlock on the door of the cellar, and Lila did not have a key. She glared at the padlock in frustration, also noticing the ax propped up next to the cellar door. Idly she chewed over the idea of chopping the door open with the ax, not that she wanted to cut down the roses that badly, but just for the pleasure of causing the landlady some inconvenience. But she turned away, thinking, and then remembered that she had a hunting knife in her apartment. It had been a gift from an ex from long ago. She had thought it a strange gift at the time, until he told her it was for protection. Lila remembered when he had broken up with her to date a man, and her stomach churned a little at the memory.

She went up to her apartment and after a ten minute sweaty search found the knife. It was still encased in its leather holder, never used, which Lila hoped meant it was still sharp. She took it outside, and after worming her way through the tangle of roses and vines at the side of the house, began the laborious process of cutting the rosebush branches. It was hot, sweaty and slow work. But she found a certain pleasure in it, because she was pretending that every branch resembled her ex-boyfriend's head. He had broken up with her over a month ago with no reason, and she was still furious with him. She had not dated much since then, having no tolerance for the opposite sex yet. But then, going to school and working full time did not leave her much time for a social life anyway, a major complaint her ex had had about their relationship. Today was the first free day she'd had in nearly two months, and here she was spending it cutting down roses. And getting quite scratched up in the process.

"Isn't the landlady supposed to take care of that?"

Lila whirled around, startled at the sudden sound of a voice behind her, and faced her upstairs neighbor, David, standing behind her with a grocery bag in one hand and his keys in the other.

David had already lived in the upstairs apartment when Lila had moved in seven months ago. He had spoken cheerfully to her every time she ran into him, and he had also helped her out of a tight fix when the hot water heater had broken down in the cold of March, a problem the landlady had not seen as dire as Lila had. David was apparently a jack of all trades, especially good at maintenance work, and his help had been a tremendous relief when faced with the prospect of taking cold showers.

He was a tall man, leanly built with wiry muscle, and he had dark brown hair and a pleasant, intelligent face. Lila had always thought he was good looking in his own unique way, something rare in most men. She liked him very much, for his quiet ways drew her. He never made any noise at all, in fact, he seemed to be a bit of a recluse. In all the time Lila had been his neighbor, she had never seen any guests come and go from his upstairs apartment. He seemed very content with his life, and the more she saw of him, the more her curiosity about him grew, wondering what, if anything, made him tick. Of course, she also did not mind looking at his wiry, muscular body.

Lila dropped the hunting knife and shoved her long black hair off of her sweaty forehead. "Yes, she is supposed to have it done, but I want it done before we can't find the house anymore once it's buried in roses," she replied in a tone heavy with sarcasm.

David nodded and grinned a little, and Lila, in a small corner of her mind, got the same feeling that she had gotten many times before when talking to David, that he was concentrating on keeping his eyes on her face and not staring at her ample chest, which at the moment was barely covered by a white tank top. David was not a guy to express thought or emotion to anyone, but Lila had, on occasion, noticed him watching her when she was coming and going or outside tanning. Why did she sense an intensity behind his silence? The intelligence in his eyes attracted her, but she knew she could never tell him that he had any effect on her. He was simply not approachable that way.

"You're going to end up melting out here," he finally said, looking up at the sky, which had gone from a bright blue to a rather odd hazy color of gray. Yet in the short time Lila had been outside working, the heat had grown worse.

"Probably," Lila agreed. She wanted this conversation to end before she said something to embarrass them both. She bent down to retrieve her hunting knife.

"Why are you using a knife to do that?" he asked. "Aren't there any hedge clippers or something around, maybe in the cellar?"

"I can't get into the cellar," Lila replied doefully. "It's padlocked and I don't have a key. Do you?"

"She locked the cellar? It wasn't locked last week."

"Well, it's locked now."

David rolled his eyes. "I wonder what she's worried about losing out of there," he muttered.

Lila sighed. "Well, I'm getting the job done. Slowly." She turned to resume her sawing at the branches, unaware that David was staring at the exposed skin of her lower back, now quite scratched up from the thorns.

"Don't hurt yourself," he said, and turned to go inside. Lila murmured something in response but did not turn around.

David took his groceries inside, and just in time, because he did not want Lila to see the flush on his face that he knew was there. He always felt that heat in his face whenever he was around her for any length of time. Especially when she was wearing only cutoff jeans and a halter top.

He turned on the television, just for something to listen to as he put away his groceries, but his mind was on his downstairs neighbor. Ever since Lila had moved in, David had tried to work up the courage to ask her out, or even just ask her over for a drink or something. She was extremely attractive, with long jet black hair and ebony eyes to match, yet her skin was pale and delicate. She jogged every morning and had a body that he often dreamed about at night, waking up to wet sheets, something he was embarrassed to even think about. He did not have a great deal of experience with women, in fact, he'd only slept with three, all of which had been one night stands, and nothing much to remember. It was not that he was unattractive, although he felt that on a scale of one to ten, he was just average. No, it was simply that he never had all that much to say, and a lot of women found him boring. They could not be comfortable with his silences. He enjoyed his life of solitude, though he cherished the few friends he had who had been patient enough to wait until he would let them get close to him.

As he finished putting things away he heard the slam of the door as Lila went into her apartment, and a few minutes later he heard her shower start up. The walls in the house were quite thin, and most sounds from either unit could be heard. Lila never really made any noise though, except on occasional nights, when David had lain awake and listened to the unmistakable sounds of sex from her bedroom below. Hearing Lila's moans on those nights nearly drove him out of his mind. However, he had not heard anything of that sort for quite some time. A couple of weeks ago Lila had mentioned to him that she'd broken up with the guy she'd been dating. David knew he should have grabbed the opportunity then to ask her out, but she had seemed angry about her breakup and his nerve, again, had failed him. He just couldn't find the right words, and the thought of making a fool of himself always stopped him.

The television suddenly began to make a noise that cut into David's thoughts. He wandered into the living area and saw that the program he'd had on had been interrupted by the Emergency Broadcast System. He waited for the announcement that it was only a test, but instead, the National Weather Service announced that a tornado warning had been issued for their area. Apparently a funnel cloud had been spotted on the ground and was heading their way, and residents were to take cover immediately.

David went into the kitchen again and looked out of the window. From his upstairs apartment he could see the sky clearly. It had gone a little grayer, but there was not a breath of wind and no sign of severe weather kicking in. Another false alarm, he thought. Their state was known for tornado activity, but the warnings were issued much more often than the tornadoes appeared, and most people took the reports with a grain of salt.

He went into the bedroom to change into a pair of very old, thin cotton shorts, not wanting to wear anything more in the oppressive heat. Then he returned to the living room, where he found to his surprise that the television screen was now just a screen of snow. He glanced out the window again, and his heart skipped a beat. In the few minutes it had taken him to change, the wind had picked up rapidly and was now bending the trees in the yard halfway to the ground. The light outside had taken on a greenish cast and the sky was black.

There was no doubt that the warning just issued was real this time.

Hot adreneline started to pound through David's veins, and without a moment's hesitation he tore his door open and raced down the outside steps and around to the front of the house to Lila's front door. He did not waste time knocking but just burst right into her living room, nearly colliding with Lila herself, who was just coming out of her bathroom. She was wrapped in a short bath towel, her black hair hanging damply down her back.

"David!" Lila cried, shocked at his sudden intrusion into her apartment without even knocking. Her TV was not on, and in the shower she had not heard the wind pick up.

Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the sound of the tornado sirens rising to a high pitch and screaming out their warning.

"Come on!" David shouted, grabbing Lila by one tiny wrist. Lila, who had grown up in Oklahoma, in Tornado Alley, needed no further persuasion. When they got outside, real fear shot through her. She knew what the early signs of an oncoming tornado looked like. They had to get to shelter, and fast.

The wind by now had risen to a dangerous strength. Lila and David struggled against it, moving around the house and slowly making their way toward the storm cellar in the back. Lila had to hold her towel up with one hand, and she held on to David's hand tightly with her other. Without his guiding her, she knew she'd be no match for that wind, which kept throwing her into him. They were both barefoot, and David, who had forgotten he wore only shorts, was brutally reminded by a flying tree branch that rammed into his bare back. He staggered, but Lila tightened her grip, and though her hand was very small, she was strong and kept him on his feet.

It seemed to take an eternity for them to reach the storm cellar door, and once they finally did they were faced with the padlock locking it shut. David shouted a curse which could not be heard above the wind. Lila did not bother. Her eye had fallen on the ax she had spotted earlier, and she had absolutely no hesitation about using it now. Knowing that David could not hear her even if she screamed, she simply let go of him and reached for the ax herself. The wind threw David into the cellar door as Lila took aim and, praying that her towel would stay knotted onto her body, swung the ax as hard as she could.

To her delight, her aim was impeccable, probably the only time in her life she would ever hit a mark so well. The rusted old padlock broke open and fell to the ground. Lila dropped the ax, not noticing the quick look of admiration David shot at her.

Using all the strength in his wiry body, David pulled the cellar door open and grabbing Lila's hand again, pulled her into the dark storm cellar with him right behind. They both almost fell down the three wooden steps leading down into the underground chamber. The wooden door crashed down behind them, but they both knew there was no time to latch it. They had to find cover down here, and it was nearly pitch black. Lila had never been down into the cellar before, but David had, and he knew there was a heavy metal table down here, shoved into a far corner against the back wall. Even down here, the noise of the approaching storm was deafening and conversation impossible. So David, still holding Lila's hand, began to lead her in the direction that he knew the table to be in. Lila allowed herself to be led, her heart pounding and her mind fuzzy with fear. Having lived through tornadoes before, she knew what they could do, and the noise she was hearing from above told her that they were truly in danger.

David bumped into the table and reached out to feel it with his hand. He tugged gently at Lila's hand, and she understood that he wanted her to squat down. She too reached out to feel for the table. Once her hand found it, she lost no time in ducking down and scooting beneath it. David was right behind her.

Lila scooted back until her back hit a wall, and she reached out into the darkness and felt another wall to her left, telling her that the table was in a corner. She prayed that it was the corner in the opposite direction of the oncoming tornado. She started to scoot farther toward the corner, as far away from the two open sides of the table as she could, but before she got very far they both heard from above what sounded like an oncoming freight train, and she knew that the funnel cloud had just found their house.

David, also realising this, pushed Lila down flat on her back and threw his own body on top of hers, trying to shield her and pushing her head into his chest. Lila wanted to tell him that he should protect his own head but she knew he would not hear her. She clung to David with all her might as the wind rose to a terrible roar and something crashed above them. David's heart pounded as he tried to remain still and wait, wait to live or wait to die. Lila shrieked into his neck as the entire cellar suddenly shook and things were falling all around them. The noise was almost unbearable. Lila's eyes were squeezed shut, and a voice in her head kept praying, please let it be quick, please let there be no pain...

As quickly as the twister had hit, it was over. The next thing David and Lila heard was silence, mingled with the pounding of their own hearts in their ears. They both remained frozen, listening to the quiet that was almost as deafening as the wind had been, and even more terrifying, neither of them ready to trust it yet. After almost five minutes, it was Lila who broke it.

"David?" she asked in a small and shaking voice. "Are you all right?"

David slowly lifted his head a little bit. "I think so," he told her, shifting a little. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Lila shook her head and answered, "No, you didn't. I'm fine."

They both slowly became aware that they were alive and unhurt. Quick on the heels of that realisation came the notion that it was darker than it should have been.

And the space under the table had changed somehow, but they could not pin down how.

David lifted himself slowly up off of Lila's body, trying to sit up, but whacked his head on the bottom of the table top. "Dammit," he muttered, deciding to try and scoot backwards, toward the open end of the table behind their feet. But when he did, his bare feet didn't find open space. Carefully, he used his foot to navigate around behind them, and all he felt were brick pieces and slabs of wood, what could only be debris. And it stretched all the way to the table top, and probably beyond.

He reached out with one hand, supporting his weight with the other, toward the front of the table, the open space they had scooted under by, praying his hand would find nothing. But his prayers were denied, for again, he hit a wall of rubble. A wall that completely blocked the table opening, by the feel of it.

And cement wall still blocked the opposite side and the side behind Lila's head.

The table they were hiding beneath was completely buried in rubble. There was no way for them to get out. Pinpoints of light shone in through the debris wall, which was a small comfort, for it meant that they would also have enough air so that they would not suffocate.

Not for a while, at least.

"What's the matter?" Lila asked. She had not moved throughout his entire inspection of their blocked escape routes, but she knew something was not right. She also thought she knew what it was, and she was praying to be wrong. But David's words cut that hope off quickly.

"We're buried under this table," he told her, in the same calm and quiet tone he used to say hello to her occasionally. Oddly enough, his tone delayed immediate panic for her. "I think your apartment, and probably mine too, has collapsed into the cellar."

Bright tendrils of panic pierced Lila's mind. With a superhuman effort, she fought them down. "Can't we dig our way out?"

David was still propped up on his elbows, holding his body off of Lila's. "I don't think so. Neither of us is strong enough to move that wall of rubble, and we'd probably bring even more down. We'd end up buried even more than we are now, or risk the table breaking. It's a miracle it stood. We have light, and air, and at least we're not hurt."

"So we have to wait," Lila said in a dull voice that did not even begin to convey the fear rising up within her. She hated small spaces with every bone in her body, and the urge to scream and try to fight and kick her way out was very difficult to control.

"I'm going to try to move so we can sit up," David told her. Lila did not answer. She just lay still as David tried to maneuver his body off of hers. But his height was working against him, and no matter which way he scooted or bent, he hit a wall of rubble, cement, or the table top. Rubble was only an inch away on their one side, and the wall was an inch on the other side. And behind and in front was only an inch more, not nearly enough to change position.

"I can't get off of you, Lila," David told her. "You're smaller, maybe you can scoot out from under me."

Lila felt him raise up as high as he could, and she tried to move, but she got less than an inch before rubble poked her in the side, making her suck in her breath. She tried to scoot backwards but hit her head on the wall. The problem was that the table they were sheltered under didn't stand very high.

"I can't," she informed him. She bit her lip hard, because moving around made her realise just how confined a space they were in. It was like two people crammed into a coffin.

"Okay," David said, in that same quiet voice that now barely helped to hold her fear in check. "Then we'd better just try to be still and conserve our air and energy. It's going to get really hot in here before too long. You sure you're okay?" He asked her because although he could not see well, he got the feeling that she was terrified and barely holding it together.